"Dad, Claire has been with Adrian for years, and she still hasn't done a thing to help the family. I'm different. Once I become Mrs. Prescott, I'll make sure Adrian helps restore the Hartley family's fortunes."
Vanessa Hartley folded her arms, utterly confident in herself.
My adoptive father took a deep drag from his cigarette and slowly exhaled a ring of smoke.
"Claire, Vanessa has a point. After all, you've spent all these years living the life that should have been Vanessa's. Give the engagement back to Vanessa, and I'll give you your mother's ashes. I'll also give you enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your life."
She was my adoptive mother, but she had died because of me.
I snapped back to the present.
"All right."
My adoptive father and Vanessa both froze. Neither had expected me to agree so readily.
"But Dad, you know it won't do any good if I'm the one who asks."
I had tried to end the engagement before. Every attempt had failed.
When I was 18, the Hartley family went bankrupt, and I was sent to Adrian Prescott's bed.
That was when I learned Adrian wasn't the gentle, courteous man everyone else saw.
It was as if Adrian had been born with cruelty in his blood.
If even the smallest thing didn't go his way, I was a lamb to the s*******r.
It started with his hands around my throat. Then came the restraints and the whippings. I had nearly died beneath him in bed more times than I could count.
So I asked for the engagement to be called off.
The first time, he whipped me as punishment.
The second time, he held me underwater in a tub while forcing himself on me, pulling me up only when I was on the verge of passing out.
The third time, he abused me both physically and psychologically.
I couldn't take it anymore. I told my adoptive mother, and she took me to Eleanor Whitmore to plead with her to end the engagement and help me escape.
Adrian used the Hartley family as leverage against my adoptive father, forcing him to bring me back. My adoptive father cared about profit above all else, but since he couldn't take his anger out on me, he took it out on my adoptive mother instead.
She nearly died because of it.
I couldn't stand by and watch my mother die because of me, so I went back.
In the end, though, she still died because of me.
By then, I had learned to behave, to obey, and to accept my fate.
But fate had given me a lifeline.
I looked at the father and daughter in front of me, both as selfish as ever, and spoke calmly.
"But I have a way."