Celestial Roses

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I nodded.

Her name was Teeny. She was the child I bore after being sold by my parents.

I was seventeen that year. Teeny was one.

I hated her because her very existence was proof of my filth.

Countless times, I thought about strangling her to death.

But in those endless nights of loneliness, hunger, and cold, it was Teeny who waved her tiny hands, smiling and calling me "Mommy."

In the end, I never did it.

Later, I turned twenty-seven. Teeny was ten.

She carried a clean, cute little backpack, her hair in pretty braids, and said to me, "Bye, Mummy!"

Then she never came back.

I only found out later she had become one of Johnson's "plucked roses."

Now, I was thirty-seven. Teeny was still ten.

Inside Johnson's safe, I saw photos of all the roses.

My Teeny—she was only ten when she died.

Her tiny body was broken beyond recognition.

Her eyes, her organs, her hair, and even her skin, all turned into blood-soaked cash.

There were even hard drives filled with footage.

But I couldn't bear to look.

"So that's your motive..." Eugene murmured, dazed.

The wariness in his eyes faded, replaced by pity and sympathy.

But I didn't need that.

I smoothed my expression and smiled again.

"But your words—how did you make him hang himself?!"

"Don't rush. We're almost there."

I lit another cigarette, my voice steady.

Later, as I got closer to Johnson, he stopped hiding things from me.

He realized my beauty salon was the perfect cover for surgeries.

I joined his business.

We got married.

After the wedding, I discovered he had a partner—someone deeply entangled in his operations.

Eugene leaned forward. "Who was it? Did he get caught?"

My voice turned mysterious, almost dreamlike, "That is exactly what my words were about."

Eugene's expression tightened. "So what the hell did you say?!"

I looked straight at him.

"My words made him lose all hope. That night, he hanged himself."

Eugene moved closer, hanging onto every word of this five-million-dollar phrase.