When The Villainess Became The Heiress

CHAPTER THREE

Cries of anguish echoed through the room.

“Please, sister! Help me… It hurts… It hurts!”

The voice belonged to a girl whose hair was being yanked mercilessly as she was dragged into a dark, decrepit basement. The wounds carved across her skin were ignored, her screams of pain unanswered. No one came to her aid—only empty stares met her suffering.

Once inside, two burly men lifted her onto a chair, binding her arms and legs tightly. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked up at the figure standing before her.

“Sister… this is all a misunderstanding. I didn’t do any of that!” she sobbed, but her plea was met with a sharp slap across her face. She froze in shock.

“You still refuse to admit it?” the woman spat. Her hand pulled something from her pocket and hurled it at Maya’s face with fury. A positive pregnancy test. “Then what is this?! Do you think I’m stupid?!” she screamed, before seizing Maya’s jaw. “You already slept with my husband and even carried his child! You filthy w***e!” Another slap landed, harder than the first.

Maya whimpered in pain. “No! It wasn’t me! This is all a mistake! That child isn’t Daren’s!”

Rosalie’s lips curled in rage. “Then whose child is it?! You can’t even keep your legs closed, can you? You’re nothing, and yet you spread yourself around until even my husband fell for you?!”

“I didn’t do anything with Daren!” she cried desperately. “Why won’t you believe me? It was Daren who wanted me—I didn’t do anything!”

Rosalie’s eyes widened, blazing with fury. “Disgusting slut!” Her hand struck Maya’s bruised face again.

“You really want to be a w***e, don’t you?!” Rosalie roared, her hair disheveled, her eyes wild with rage. Her gaze flicked to a pile of scrap metal in the corner. She picked up a thick iron rod, slapping it against her palm as if testing its weight. “You want my husband so badly?” she sneered, stepping closer.

Maya’s tears flowed freely as she shook her head in terror. “Sister, please… don’t do this… I didn’t do it. Please believe me!”

“Shut up!”

The iron rod slammed into her stomach with brutal force. Her eyes bulged, her breath caught in her throat as pain exploded through her body. “Don’t—” she gasped, her voice breaking.

Rosalie’s smile twisted with satisfaction. “Don’t? Why not? You care so much about the child you made with Daren, don’t you?!” Another strike landed, harder, making Maya scream in agony.

Rosalie’s laughter rang out, cruel and triumphant. “Does it hurt? Hm? Does it?” she taunted, swinging the rod again. “Let me end this worthless child for you!” Blow after blow rained down on Maya’s stomach. Blood seeped through her clothes, staining her body as she cried out, begging for mercy.

“My baby… my baby…”

In her fading consciousness, the image of a man appeared in her mind—the true father of the child she carried. His smile was gentle, tender.

Her strength ebbed away, her body unable to withstand the torment. Oh God… is this the end of my life? Why is my fate so cruel? Not only am I denied justice, but even my child is treated with merciless cruelty.

Her eyes fluttered shut. For the last time, her heart whispered into the void:

Forgive me, my love… I couldn’t protect our child…