Chapter 3Fate’s Cruel Script

The fetus that had been forced from her body that day had, by some miracle, survived. To protect her, my family had claimed she was my younger sister.

The car struck the child, and she collapsed in a pool of blood, barely breathing.

Jacob shot me a look that was a mixture of amusement and contempt, then picked up my daughter and tossed her in the trunk of his car.

“Amelia, this one’s on her way out,” he said nonchalantly. “Let’s not let her go to waste. I can use her as a human specimen for my collection.”

“Fine,” Amelia agreed without a second thought. She turned and got into the car with him, leaving me behind.

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I let out a crazed, desperate roar and started to crawl after them. The sharp gravel on the ground tore at my skin, leaving a bloody trail, but I didn’t dare stop.

“Amelia! She’s our daughter!”

The news of Amelia’s release from prison had become a media sensation. The tragic story of what had happened seven years ago was dredged up again, and I became a reviled figure, a monster everyone loved to hate.

Passersby recognized me on the street, beating and cursing me as I dragged my broken body toward the hospital. By the time I reached the entrance, I was fading in and out of consciousness, my face as white as a sheet.

I saw Amelia walk out of the hospital, empty-handed. The unease in my heart spread through my entire body. I forced myself to stay awake, crawling to her feet and looking up at her with what little strength I had left.

“Amelia… the child… where is she? What happened back then… it’s not what you think. The truth is…”

“Shut up,” she said, her voice cold as ice. “Scared now, are you?” Her eyes, filled with malice, scanned the street and landed on a large, discarded ceramic vat. A dark, sinister idea seemed to take hold of her.

The onlookers, following her gaze, understood her intention immediately. A few of the more eager ones pulled off their own filthy socks, stuffed them in my mouth, and lifted me up, dumping me into the vat, leaving only my head exposed.

Amelia watched, her face impassive, a flicker of satisfaction in her eyes.

“Thank you all for your support,” she said to the crowd, her voice ringing with a newfound confidence. “Things are different now. I have powerful friends. No matter how you choose to humiliate him today, no matter how far you take it, I have the power to clean up any mess.”

She gave Jacob a look filled with adoration, then bowed deeply to the crowd.

Everyone knew what that meant. With Jacob Croft backing her, they could kill me, and no one would ever be held accountable.

“Mmph! Mmph!”

All I could think about was my daughter’s safety. I thrashed around in the vat, trying to make any sound I could to get her attention. But she didn’t spare me a single glance. She just turned and got into the car, driving away.

Jacob shot me a malicious look, then whispered something to the men who had put me in the vat before getting into the car and following her.

That night, they sawed off both of my arms.

They filled the vat with snakes and scorpions and other venomous creatures, torturing me for three days and three nights.

When I was barely breathing, Jacob appeared. He pulled the gag from my mouth.

“Laurent, you really have lost everything, haven’t you? To be destroyed like this by the woman you love.”

“I bet you don’t even know,” he continued, a cruel smile on his face. “It was me who knocked you out. It was me who drove your car and ran Amelia over. And it was me who forged your signature to send her to prison.”

I had already figured out most of what he was saying. But his next words hit me like a physical blow.

“Actually, Amelia’s parents were never poisoned. All it took was a few well-placed words from me, and they were more than happy to play along with my little charade to get revenge on you. The one driving the truck that ran over your legs? That was Amelia’s father. He was just getting even for his little girl.”

“And do you know why I sent her to prison, only to be the one to get her out? Because I needed to sever all her ties, to break her completely. Only then, when she was at her most helpless, would she let me in, would she let me control her.”

I met his gaze, my own eyes filled with a cold, mocking light. “You can’t fool me, Jacob. You’ve fallen in love with her. You sent her to prison to cut her off from everything she knew, so that when she was at her lowest, she would cling to you like a lifeline.”

“If she ever finds out that everything she’s suffered was because of your twisted, obsessive love… do you think she’ll hate you?”

My words struck a nerve. For a fleeting moment, I saw panic in his eyes. But he quickly composed himself, his face twisting into a hideous grin. He grabbed my jaw, forcing my mouth open. He raised a small knife and plunged it into my mouth, slicing off my tongue.

“Hmph. If you can’t talk, how will she ever know?”

A warm, metallic liquid filled my mouth. An unbearable pain consumed me, threatening to swallow me whole. But I held on, clinging to consciousness, desperate to find out what had happened to my daughter.

“Jacob? How is he?”

Amelia’s voice, filled with concern, came from the end of the alley.

Jacob’s body tensed. He quickly tossed the knife aside, wiped the blood from my mouth with the back of his hand, and then clutched his own hand, letting out a pained cry. “Ah!”

“Jacob! What’s wrong?” she cried, rushing to his side.

Jacob bit his lip, sucking in a sharp breath. “I was just trying to give him something to eat. I guess he’s still angry about his ‘sister.’ He took it out on me… he bit me.”

Amelia looked up and saw the blood around my mouth, then looked at the bloody marks on the back of his hand. Her face contorted with rage.

I could only shake my head helplessly, silent tears mixing with the blood in my mouth.

“Laurent Cross, I’m going to kill you!” she shrieked.

She ordered her men to take the vat, with me still inside it, and throw it into the river to drown me.

I was terrified. My breath came in ragged gasps. I thrashed against the sides of the vat, my eyes pleading with her. I tried to tell her, with every fiber of my being, that the girl she had run over was our daughter, that this was all Jacob’s sick game.

But she ignored my frantic movements. As the vat was submerged, the last thing I heard was her cold, detached voice.

“Jacob, that girl is still breathing. But the people at your lab said that for the best vascular specimens, it’s better to use a live subject. I don’t understand any of that, so I’ve already sent her over.”

“Thank you, Amelia,” Jacob replied, his voice smooth as silk. “Thank you for putting aside your personal feelings and providing the girl’s body for study. This will be an invaluable contribution to clinical medicine.”

In that moment, the last thread of hope that had kept me alive snapped.

I closed my eyes in despair and let my consciousness slip away.