Chapter 3
I'd barely opened my eyes in the hospital when Alan hauled me straight into the VIP suite next door.
"You deliberately messed with the feng shui and gave Lizzie migraines. Now get on your knees and shake those fortune sticks for her, atone for your mistake," Alan said coldly.
I froze, staring at Lizzie, who was propping up her head and groaning weakly.
Lizzie shot me a smug look, then put on a show of generosity. "Alan, it's just a headache. No need to trouble Celestine."
Alan leaned down, gripping my chin, his eyes full of mockery. "Still think you're some big shot from a fortune-telling family?
"Don't end up like your con artist dad, left to rot with no one to bury you."
I fought back tears and took the tube of fortune sticks. The rattling of hundreds of fortune sticks echoed through the room all day.
I kept shaking the tube, but Lizzie just shook her head at every single stick, never satisfied.
The three maids on the couch were munching on sunflower seeds, gossiping loudly.
"Some people are so desperate, they'd throw themselves at anyone just to be a nanny, but still nobody wants them."
"If my dad got the boss killed, I'd have thrown myself into the sea by now! Who'd have the nerve to keep freeloading?"
"Miss Green is way too kind to keep someone like you around, a walking disaster who brings bad luck to your own family and everyone else."
They exchanged smug looks, making it obvious Lizzie was behind all this.
I knew Alan was making sure I heard it all. He was just taking Lizzie's side to put me down.
But after all the torment I'd been through, their words barely registered with me anymore.
Alan didn't show up in the days that followed.
The butler made me stay in the hospital room to take care of Lizzie, who was still weak.
Whenever Lizzie slept, I had to stand by the door, waiting like some kind of watchdog.
Whenever she washed her hair, I had to stand there holding a heavy basin filled to the brim with water, making sure not a single drop spilled.
The water turned cold, and my arms started to shake from the strain.
Alan stood at the doorway, his gaze flickering. His fingers twitched, then dropped back to his side as his expression turned cold again.
Suddenly, one of the maids "accidentally" knocked the basin out of my hands, sending it crashing to the floor.
The basin hit the ground, and Lizzie shrieked as she lost her footing and tumbled into the suds.
Alan whipped his head around to glare at me, his jaw clenched tight. "Apologize."
I stared at Lizzie, sprawled on the floor with her face twisted in pain, and for the first time, I didn't want to just give in and apologize.
Alan's face turned stormy. "Maybe you need a reality check about where you stand."
Suddenly, the TV in the living room turned on, and the whirring of a breast pump grew louder and louder.
I stared at the screen, at my naked body and the contorted expression on my face.
The sound of everyone snickering was deafening, but I was frozen, my whole body cold and unable to move.
Alan's voice was icy. "Celestine, now you know what shame feels like?"
On the screen, I looked like a reckless woman with no self-respect, completely out of control.
"Turn it off," I cried, my voice shaking as she lunged forward and grabbed at Alan's sleeve.
Alan raised his arm even higher, deliberately making the image on the screen sharper for everyone to see.
He sneered. "Celestine, acting all high and mighty now? Wasn't this your own choice?"
I never imagined Alan would stoop to such a twisted stunt to humiliate me. I trembled right there, unable to move.
Their raucous laughter drilled into my ears like needles, each jeer cutting straight through me.
Shuffling forward on my knees, my voice raw with desperation, I pleaded, "Please, Alan, I'm begging you. Just stop."
Alan looked away, then hurled the ashtray at the doorway with a loud crash. "Get out," he roared.
"Get out," Alan barked.
The maids scrambled out in a panic, while Lizzie shot me a venomous glare before stalking out, still fuming and unwilling to let it go.
Alan bent down, gripping my chin tight, his eyes icy and merciless. "When your dad killed my whole family, why didn't you beg him to stop?
"Why didn't you try to stop him from committing those sins?
"Celestine, what secret was your dad hiding? Just say it, and maybe I'll believe you."
I looked at him, tears blurring my vision. "Alan, about what happened back then..."
His whole body went rigid, his gaze boring into me, unblinking.
Suddenly, I grabbed a teacup, smashed it on the floor, snatched up a sharp shard, and tried to stab it into my own throat.
Alan's pupils contracted in shock, and he lunged forward, grabbing the shard with his bare hands.
Blood dripped from his hand onto my collarbone.
"Celestine, are you insane?" Alan's grip on my chin was trembling, his voice shaking with anger and fear.
Meeting his furious gaze, I jerked my head toward the bloody shard in his hand. Then a stabbing pain ripped through the side of my neck.
I choked out. "Alan, I've lost my family, I've lost my child. Won't you even let me die with a little dignity?
"Alan, do you still remember the promise you made to me when we were eighteen?"
Alan yanked his blood-soaked hand back, his voice hoarse. "Celestine, you're not worthy."
I forced down the ache in my heart, because even though Alan tried to look away, I could clearly see the emotion flicker in his eyes.
When we were eighteen, on that summer night with cicadas singing, Alan's tears sparkled like stars in the sky.
He said to me, "Celestine, once I take over my family's business, I'll marry you with a grand procession."
"But what if your dad doesn't approve?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Alan pressed my hand over his heart, looking me straight in the eyes. "Celestine, you're in every plan I make for the future. If anyone tries to hurt you, they'll have to go through me first."