Chapter 4

As soon as I entered the Sullivan residence, the bodyguards shoved me into a pitch-black basement cell.

"Ms. Johnson said the study is spotless and refined, and you're not allowed to mess it up. The basement is all you deserve," one of the bodyguards sneered.

I felt icy cold all over, hugging myself as I huddled in a shadowy corner, trembling.

I had no idea how much time had passed when Kevin's furious voice suddenly echoed from outside the basement door.

"I told you to take Scarlett to the study. Who gave you the right to act on your own?" he snapped.

The bodyguards didn't dare say a word, and I heard Chloe's voice, her tone timid.

"Kevin, the study was Grandma's favorite place. Maybe it's better if Scarlett doesn't go in," she said softly.

Kevin stayed silent for a long time, then his footsteps slowly faded away.

It felt like my chest was being pierced again and again by a sharp blade. Why had Kevin become like this?

I couldn't find an answer. All I could do was let the ache in my heart take over.

But the next moment, the tightly shut basement door creaked open. I looked up to find Chloe standing there.

She had a faint smile on her face as she sauntered over to me.

She sneered, "Look at yourself now, so filthy. You used to be admired and untouchable, but now you're like a rat scurrying in the gutter, hated by everyone.

"Kevin said from now on, I'm the Sullivan heiress, and you're nothing but a rat, forced to hide in the dark.

"Jack dotes on me so much. I just cried a few times, and you always acted superior, looking down on me. So he dragged you down into the dirt for me. He told me you're even more shameless in bed than those experienced hookers.

"He said you'll do any position, learn anything instantly, born to be a slut."

Slap! "How dare you hit me?" Chloe shrieked.

I let out a cold laugh. "Why wait to hit you? I wish I could kill you."

I yanked Chloe's hair and shoved her beneath me.

When I thought of my late grandmother, my chest was consumed by wild, frenzied hatred. I went wild, pounding, scratching, and biting Chloe, completely losing control.

Suddenly, someone forcefully pulled me off her. I was slammed against the concrete wall, blood streaming down my forehead.

Then I heard Jack's voice, filled with worry and tenderness. "Chloe, are you okay? Where does it hurt?"

Chloe whimpered, "Jack, I hurt all over. I just wanted to persuade Scarlett, bring her some food, and tell her not to be mad at Kevin. But she—

"What did I do wrong, Jack? Is it because we're bastards that we'll always be looked down on?"

Jack spent a long time coaxing Chloe, his voice gentle and soothing, before finally telling the bodyguards to take her away.

When the basement was just the two of us, he crouched down in front of me. Seeing blood trickling down my forehead, his gaze grew intense and stormy.

"Does it hurt?" he asked softly.

"Why haven't you answered my calls? Are you still upset about what happened two days ago?" he pressed.

"Scarlett, Chloe is the reason I'm still alive. I treat her like a little sister. Can't you try to get along with her for me?" he pleaded.

I fixed my gaze on him, a razor-sharp, mocking smile curling at my lips. "Yeah, it hurts. So, are you actually going to get me out of here right now?

"If I pick up your calls, can you bring my grandma back?"

Even those three years of supposed deep affection were nothing but a lie. So why would I trust anything now?

Jack's brows slowly drew together as he reached out, wanting to pull me into his arms. But I knocked his hand away, hard and without hesitation.

His face darkened, patience clearly running out. "I was going to take you out, but now I think keeping you locked up for a few days is exactly what you need. Maybe it'll finally knock some sense into you."

The basement door slammed shut again, and I slumped to the ground, blood trickling down my forehead and pooling on the cold floor.

My eyes stayed dry. Even as Jack disappeared from view, not once did I ask him for anything.

It was like the one I'd cherished for three years who had been carved out of my chest, leaving nothing behind.

But my mind kept replaying those days when he used to treat me like I was the most precious thing in the world.

I was always cold, especially during that time of the month when my feet would freeze. Jack would always hold my feet to his chest to warm them up.

He was always so brooding and tough, but for three years, day in and day out, he cooked for me.

Anything I mentioned in passing, anything I wanted, he'd make sure I got it the very next day.

But all those moments I thought were sweet, the ones I kept savoring like candy, turned out to be poison he personally crafted for me.

I thought he was an innocent beauty, but he was a poppy, dangerous, and addictive.

Once I touched him, I was hooked. There was no coming back.

My head was spinning, and pain throbbed through every inch of my body.

Suddenly, I heard voices again outside the basement door, sharp and urgent.

"Damn, that's a lot of rats. Are we seriously supposed to throw them all in here?" one of the bodyguards muttered.

"Yeah, Ms. Johnson said not a single one gets away. Every last one goes in," the other answered.