After I Let Him Marry My Stepsister, He Regretted It

Chapter 3

A jagged tear ran across the canvas.

I screamed, "Stop!"

Victoria seized the moment, throwing herself to the floor and crying out, "Lucian, help!"

Lucian rushed over and hauled her up. Victoria buried herself in his arms, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe.

"Lucian, I only wanted to get a closer look at the painting. Nora suddenly rushed over and shoved me."

Lucian did not ask a single question. He strode toward me, seized me by the throat, and slammed me against the wall.

A sharp pain tore through my throat as I struggled to breathe.

"You knew Victoria was in poor health, yet you still dared to touch her? Looks like I spoiled you rotten before!"

I offered no explanation. After Victoria died in my previous life, he had forced me to write a confession before her memorial portrait.

I had only asked, "Why should I?" He had grabbed my throat the same way, forced my head down, and smashed it against the floor over and over. Blood had pooled beneath me.

He had only said coldly, "If I could do it all over again, I would never let you hurt her."

Something about my gaze seemed to hit a nerve. Lucian suddenly threw me to the floor. I crashed down hard, coughing until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

Nearby, the staff had already taken the painting off the wall. The rip across the canvas looked like a wound that would never heal.

Lucian glanced at it and said coldly, "Get rid of it."

My heart lurched. I scrambled forward and clutched his pant leg. "Lucian, my grandfather left that painting to me. Please, give it back!"

Victoria tugged at Lucian's sleeve, her voice trembling. "Lucian, it is ruined anyway. We should throw it out."

Lucian slipped an arm around her and turned away. "Come on. I will buy you something better."

I watched the staff carry my painting away. It felt like watching my grandfather's hand slip from mine all over again, as though someone were ripping another piece of my childhood from me.

Only then did I finally understand. Some things, once broken, could never be put back together.

The moment I got home, a coffee cup came flying at my face. Warm blood trickled down my brow, turning my vision crimson.

My father sat in the living room, his face dark with rage. "Apologize!"

My stepmother stormed over, pointing at me and screaming at the top of her lungs. "Victoria only went to an art exhibition, and you actually pushed her? Are you not satisfied until you kill her?"

I had not even made a move.

Victoria walked in with Lucian supporting her, her face deathly pale. "Mom, don't say that about Nora. She only cared too much about the painting and acted on impulse."

Lucian's gaze swept over my bloodied face and paused for a moment. Then Victoria gave a faint cough.

He immediately lowered his eyes and pulled her coat snug around her. "Are you still scared?"

My stepmother's heart went out to her. When she looked at me again, her eyes held nothing but disgust. "What are you standing there for? Bring me the feather duster!"

The housekeeper held me down as the feather duster came down hard.

My palms swelled on the spot. My shoulders shook from the pain, but I bit my lip until it hurt. In my previous life, I had drunk until my stomach bled while taking the hits for Lucian at business dinners, and I had never once cried out.

Back then, he had held me in his arms, tears streaming down his face. "Nora, if anyone ever hurts you again, I'll make them pay with their life!"

After 30 strikes, my palms were raw and split open.

Victoria finally spoke. "Mom, my engagement party is in two days. I still want Nora there to send me off. Please stop."

Only then did my stepmother wave her hand. "Take her to the storage room. Make her finish all the engagement decorations. Every last one. She doesn't come out until it's done."

The storage room was cold and damp. I knelt on the floor, my hands trembling so badly I could barely hold the craft knife. Every fold I made split the wound on my palm open a little more. The cardstock was soon smudged with blood.

By midnight, I had developed a high fever. Half conscious, I felt someone gently take my hand and wipe away the blood.

I opened my eyes and saw Lucian squatting in front of me.