Chapter 3 Humiliation
952 Words
Douglas was officially introducing Carlin to his inner circle.
Renata overheard the news from the servants whispering downstairs.
Curled up on the tiny bed in the maid's room, she listened to the muffled sounds of excitement outside while pulling herself tighter into a ball.
Her head felt like someone was driving a spike through her skull over and over again.
She had already lost count of how many times the pain had knocked her unconscious.
Renata thought events like this no longer had anything to do with her.
Until someone knocked on the door.
The butler stood outside expressionlessly. "Ms. Stone, Mr. Warren wants you to get ready. You're coming tonight."
Renata froze. Instinctively, she shook her head. "I... I'm not feeling well."
But the butler clearly had no interest in listening. "Mr. Warren said you must be there."
That night, the private club glowed with flashing lights and overflowing alcohol.
Renata was placed in the darkest corner of the VIP room, almost blending into the dim wall lights.
She wore an old faded dress, painfully out of place among the luxury surrounding her.
Douglas sat at the center of the room with Carlin tucked against his side.
Carlin smiled elegantly, graceful and confident. The same sister Renata remembered.
"So this is your real love, huh?" someone laughed. "Damn, she's gorgeous. Elegant too."
"Seriously, that fake one doesn't even compare. They look identical, but the vibe is totally different."
"Douglas, how did you survive three years with that mute little thing?"
Laughter rippled through the room.
Renata lowered her head. Her fingers dug hard into the cold leather couch beneath her, nails nearly tearing into the material.
All kinds of eyes were on her. For a moment, it felt like she had been dragged back to her school days, back to the years when she was bullied, her books thrown across the floor, her desk soaked with water, herself cornered in the bathroom with nowhere to go.
Back then, the sister who stood in front of her with a stick in hand, the one who told her "Don't be scared," would protect her no matter what.
But now that same sister sat there silently. She was not going to protect her anymore.
She had been abandoned.
Renata's body started trembling slightly.
Douglas paused with his wine glass in hand. His eyes drifted toward the shadow curled in the corner, so small she almost seemed invisible. His gaze darkened for a second. But he said nothing. He simply drained the rest of his drink.
Carlin's smile stiffened briefly too. She glanced at Renata, who had practically buried her face in her knees. Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something. In the end, she stayed silent.
Seeing that neither Douglas nor Carlin stopped them, the others grew bolder.
One drunken man staggered toward Renata, the heavy smell of alcohol hitting her instantly.
"Hey there, pretty little statue," he slurred. "How about a drink with me?"
He reached out, fingers moving toward her chin. "Douglas, now that you've got the real one back, why not hand this fake over to me for fun?"
Renata flinched violently, like she'd just been touched by a snake. Almost on instinct, she smacked his hand away hard.
The sharp sound echoed through the room. The man froze for a second before rage twisted across his face.
"You little bitch." He grabbed her arm brutally and yanked her to her feet.
"Know your place. You're just a fake. You really think you're still some precious toy? Douglas already got tired of you..."
Fear exploded inside Renata's chest. She let out a sharp scream. As she stumbled backward, her hand hit a wine bottle. Without thinking, she grabbed it and smashed it over his head.
"AHHH!" The room erupted in chaos.
Ignoring the screams behind her, Renata bolted out of the private room. The drunk man cursed and lunged after her.
But before he could grab her, a violent burst of movement swept past him.
A hard kick slammed him straight onto the floor.
Douglas had stood up at some point. He picked up a wet towel from the table and wiped his hands slowly. His expression was terrifyingly dark.
The entire room instantly fell silent.
"My woman," Douglas said coldly, his voice low enough to chill the air, "isn't someone you get to touch."
The man struggled on the ground for half a day and still could not get up. "Douglas... I was wrong..."
"Get him out." Douglas cut him off mercilessly.
Two bodyguards immediately dragged the screaming man away.
But none of that reached Renata. She had already stumbled outside and collapsed beside a flowerbed. Her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she trembled uncontrollably, burying her face against her knees.
The humiliation from earlier replayed endlessly in her mind. Her eyes squeezed shut.
Then suddenly, Renata remembered three years ago, back when Douglas had first brought her home.
He had always been cold, yes. But at least back then, he never allowed anyone to humiliate her like this.
He disliked how quiet she was, how little she spoke. Still, whenever she stayed up all night painting, he silently allowed the servants to bring her late night food.
Once, Douglas had stood behind her quietly while she painted the stars. Neither of them spoke. But the silence between them had once felt peaceful.
So when exactly had everything changed?
And the sister who used to shield her from the world, the one willing to fight anyone for her now leaned obediently beside Douglas, acting as though Renata's suffering had nothing to do with her at all.
That hurt far more than the humiliation tonight ever could.
- Writer
