The Villainous Stepsister's Second Chance

Chapter 2 : Murderer

Murderer.

The word echoed endlessly through Anastasia's mind as her consciousness slowly resurfaced, numbing every single one of her senses. The biting chill of the Thomas family's underground parking garage froze her to the bone. Her body trembled, not merely from the icy air, but from the creeping horror gnawing at every inch of her flesh.

The stench of mildew and the sickening, metallic tang of blood filled her nose—a grim contrast to the sleek row of luxury cars parked on the other side of the garage.

As Anastasia tried to stand, reality crashed over her—her wrists and ankles were tightly bound to the chair. She thrashed with all her might, but the ropes only dug deeper into her already raw, peeling skin. A sharp pain shot through her bones, forcing her to freeze to keep from tearing herself apart any further.

Hunger gnawed at her stomach, leaving her with a sharp, hollow ache, while her lips were parched and cracked after two full days without food or water.

She strained to look around, but her matted hair—caked with dried blood and plastered to her forehead—obscured her vision.

BANG!

Someone slammed the door open at the top of the stairs. The dimly lit room was suddenly flooded with blinding light under the harsh glare of the neon lights. Muffled footsteps echoed down the staircase, each step drawing closer. The girl's heart hammered wildly in her chest. Her body trembled uncontrollably as an overpowering dread took hold.

Taylor Anderson, Rafael Thomas's personal assistant, strode toward her with steady, unhurried steps. The sleeves of his crisp white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing bulging veins along his forearms—a silent display of brute, inescapable strength. The handsome face that once wore an accustomed warmth was gone, replaced by a cold gaze dripping with deep-seated malice. Clutched in one of his hands was a black leather folder, stuffed with a thick stack of papers.

Two heavily built men clad in solid black trailed behind him like loyal, dangerous shadows.

“You really think you can play dumb forever, Anastasia?” Taylor said, halting right in front of her.

His voice carried the weight of a sinister threat, stripping away her remaining sanity bit by bit. Every word he uttered felt like a final verdict, leaving Anastasia no room to defend herself.

The man thrust the folder right in front of her face.

Anastasia drew in a deep breath, desperate to summon whatever resolve and courage she had left. Yet the harder she tried to inhale, the tighter her chest felt, leaving her with shallow, ragged breaths. Her throat was bone-dry and burning, her voice emerging as a hoarse, broken rasp as she spoke.

"For God’s sake, Taylor, it wasn't me! I never… I would never do anything to hurt Dad! I loved him as if he were my own father."

Thwack!

The leather folder flew through the air and struck her cheek with brutal force. Her head snapped to the side, sending a sharp ringing through her ears as her vision spun out of control. A metallic, salty taste flooded her mouth, and she could feel a warm trickle running from the corner of her lips. The physical agony was searing, but the pain in her chest cut far deeper. She couldn't believe Taylor had fallen for those lies.

“You still have the nerve to deny it?! When all the evidence is stacked right in front of your face!”

Taylor bellowed, his temper flaring into raw fury. He tore open the folder with vicious force. With his free hand, he grabbed a fistful of Anastasia’s matted hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to stare directly at the sheets of paper secured inside the folder.

“This…”

Taylor tightened his grip on Anastasia’s hair as she tried to pull away, forcing her to focus on the letters and numbers printed on the paper. But through her blurred vision, she could make out only the logo and name of a well-known private hospital.

“... Is the toxicology report showing an accumulation of thallium in Mr. Rafael’s organs. The report indicates that it was administered in small doses over at least the past eight months! Right after you moved out of this house.”

Tears began to stream down Anastasia’s reddening cheeks, betraying the fear, rage, and physical pain coursing through her. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t poison him. I could never bring myself to do that to Dad. Never!”

Taylor tightened his grip on Anastasia’s hair and violently shook her head, making her wince in pain. “So you’re saying this lab report is a lie? You’re saying Mr. Rafael faked his illness? Or that I faked it?”

“No! That's not what I mean!” Anastasia sobbed, her voice raw and ragged. “Someone set me up!”

Taylor shoved Anastasia’s body back with brutal force, nearly sending her crashing to the floor had it not been for the ropes binding her to the chair. He snatched a stack of photographs tucked inside the folder and thrust them directly in front of her eyes.

They were stills of Anastasia going about her routine around the house, particularly in the kitchen, holding a glass or a plate. At a glance, there was nothing suspicious about the images. Yet, given the accusations against her, the carefully selected frames, captured from concealed vantage points, made every one of her movements seem deeply suspicious, as though she were hiding something.

A drinking glass hidden behind a shopping bag as Anastasia poured a drink. Anastasia shooting a sharp glance as she poured food onto a plate. Anastasia with her back to the camera as she sprinkled something over a dish. And countless more photos capturing seemingly ordinary moments that, when viewed through the lens of suspicion, made her every move look strange and deeply suspicious.

“Still going to play innocent, Anastasia? You even had the nerve to commit such a heinous act in a house packed with CCTV cameras. You laced Mr. Rafael’s food and drinks with poison, allowing it to slowly eat away at his body to avoid arousing suspicion. But unfortunately for you, we aren't fools, Anastasia.”

“No. I didn’t do it. All of it is a lie!” Anastasia kept denying it, desperate to make Taylor believe her, but her words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“Are you saying that’s not you in those photos?”

Anastasia couldn't answer. Because in reality, the person in those photos was her, but the way they interpreted them twisted innocent moments into vile accusations. The truth was nothing like what they were accusing her of.

Taylor snorted in disgust, throwing the photos onto the cold floor, then pulled out another set of papers from the folder. He thrust a bank transaction statement right before her eyes.

“Then how do you explain this? Two million US dollars transferred into an account under the name of Anastasia Marie Davis!”

Anastasia’s heart stopped at the sum Taylor spat out. The figure struck her harder than any physical blow from Taylor ever could. The world around her shattered, leaving her stranded in an endless, suffocating darkness.

Not a single word could escape her lips. She had no way to explain how such a massive sum of money ended up in her name. Somehow, she needed to prove her innocence. But… How could she ever break free from the web of charges tightening around her neck?

One thing she knew for certain: none of this was going to be easy. This was only the beginning of a living hell built specifically for her.

And it was just getting started.

=o=