Chapter 4
When Rosalie returned to the villa, she found Lucia in the living room, hugging her husky.
"HI, Dr. Weller," Lucia called out.
Rosalie didn't want to respond, but Lucia got up, grinning slyly. "I heard that back in college, you had a wardrobe malfunction during a show, and some private pics ended up all over campus. Seriously, is that true? That's just hilarious."
Lucia's harsh laughter hit Rosalie with the memory she wanted least to remember.
During graduation, Jason's possessiveness went off the charts; he kept her up all night, leaving her covered in bruises. The next day, she showed up at the ceremony with all those marks, and her dress slipped. Somebody took pictures, and boom, they spread like wildfire.
After that, rumors flew, and she got labeled as a slut.
That was the bleakest time in her life. She was too ashamed to even leave the house, and this whole mess became a shadow she never dared to talk about.
Back then, Jason held her close and swore he'd keep her safe, but now he's gossiping about it to other women like it's just some funny story.
Rosalie took a deep breath and snapped back with icy sarcasm, "If you find it so hilarious, why don't you just strip naked and sell yourself online? I'm sure you'd get plenty of buyers."
Suddenly, Lucia's face went pale. She grabbed Rosalie's arm and toppled backward.
Just then, the front door swung open and Jason stepped inside. His face instantly darkened as he hurried over and scooped Lucia up into his arms, shooting Rosalie a sharp, accusing glare.
"What happened?" Jason demanded.
Lucia burst into tears, putting on her most pitiful look. "Mr. Foster, I asked Dr. Weller about some things from her college days. I have no idea how I upset her. Not only did she humiliate me, but she pushed me so hard it was like she wanted to hit me,"
With Lucia throwing accusations at her, Rosalie shook her head in disbelief, face flushing with panic as she protested, "I didn't even touch her."
"You've still got the nerve to deny it?" Jason snapped, cutting her off roughly. "Lucia's sick. Are you seriously trying to hurt her?"
"Mr. Foster, it's not Ms. Weller's fault. She's probably still upset about what happened to Yvonne," Lucia said.
Rosalie's eyes turned red, and she gritted her teeth. "Shut up. Who the hell do you think you are, bringing up Yvonne? You're the one who deserves to die—"
Before Rosalie could finish, a loud slap echoed through the room as Jason's hand connected with her face.
Jason pulled Lucia into his arms, his face twisted with fury.
"If you won't shut your mouth, I'll make sure someone else does. Stand right here and take 99 slaps," he ordered.
The bodyguards stomped over and shoved Rosalie to bow, showing no mercy.
"Let me go," Rosalie screamed, struggling desperately.
The next moment, the slaps kept coming, reverberating through every corner of the villa. Rosalie felt like her whole body was falling apart from the pain.
Lucia buried herself in Jason's arms, giving Rosalie a smug, gloating smirk.
Rosalie's mouth was soon bleeding, and Jason frowned as he watched the scene unfold—he almost wanted to stop it for a second.
Suddenly, Lucia threw her arms around him, sobbing, "Jason, am I really as awful as Ms. Weller says? Maybe I should just leave."
"This has nothing to do with you. Yvonne's death was her own problem; it's got nothing to do with you," Jason said.
But just as he reassured Lucia, his eyes turned icy cold again when he looked at Rosalie.
"Another 99 slaps. Don't stop until she finally understands what she did wrong," Jason ordered.
The sound of slaps echoed through the villa, growing sharper and more relentless with every strike. Rosalie had lost all sense of time; it felt endless, a nightmare with no escape—until, finally, the cruel punishment was over.
Rosalie's vision blurred, pain and exhaustion crashing over her in waves. Unable to hold herself up any longer, she crumpled to the floor, utterly shattered.