Chapter 3

I froze in fear, clutching the ripped pieces of my clothes as tightly as I could.

"Mr. Foster, you've had too much to drink. We're not even married yet," I said.

Samuel's long fingers reached for me again, and there was no way to push him away. "As your future husband, it's my duty to protect the bond between you and Lily as sisters.

"Lily said since you love showing off so much, we might as well let you flaunt it all you want."

Then he tore my blouse into pieces.

He pressed my head down, forcing me onto the floor, and made me wipe the floor with my chest, laughing low and cruel.

"So white and big, perfect for cleaning the floor," he sneered. "From now on, when the maids run out of rags, they can just come to you."

I struggled like crazy, trying to break free, and in the chaos, I knocked over the lamp on the nightstand. The crash brought my parents running in.

But instead of helping, they just shot me a cold look and said, "It's your job to serve your husband, Emily. Can't you stop making us worry all the time?"

I was still pinned under Samuel, unable to move, when Lily stormed in, her face red with anger.

"What are you two doing?" she shouted.

Samuel let go of me, walked up to Lily, and patted her head lightly. "Lily, I was doing this for you," he said with a faint smile.

Lily sneered, her tone full of scorn. "Doing it for me by ripping her clothes off?"

She lifted the rattan cane in her hand and swung it hard at my back.

"Emily, the Summers family may not be aristocrats, but we have a reputation. Sleeping with someone before marriage would ruin it. Today, I'm going to teach you a lesson," she shouted.

My mother looked at my tear-streaked face, gently stroked my cheek, and then pulled out a glass bottle to collect my tears.

"You're the older sister," she said softly. "It's only right to let your little sister blow off some steam.

"Lily loves the perfume made from your tears. Go on, cry some more."

Samuel looked at my blood-stained body, a flicker of pity crossing his eyes. Then he held Lily close.

"Enough. Don't hurt your hand. Even if she's well-endowed, I only have basic physical urges toward her. My heart belongs to you," he said.

Lily finally stopped, threw the cane aside, and complained that her hand hurt. "Samuel, blow on it for me," she whined.

Then, suddenly, she tossed a lit lighter onto my bed. The flames shot up instantly, devouring the sheets.

Samuel rushed forward to save me when Lily screamed from behind, "My head's spinning. I'm going to pass out."

Samuel glanced at me through the flames for a second, then turned, scooped Lily into his arms, and ordered the servants, "Ms. Emily Summers is still in there. Go save her."

Then he carried Lily away without another look.

Smoke filled my lungs, and I coughed violently until I passed out.

When I came back to myself, I was lying inside a walk-in freezer. The icy cold pierced my bones, making me shiver uncontrollably.

I pounded on the door, begging anyone outside to let me out.

The only sounds were Samuel's loud laughter and Lily's high, teasing voice.

When they finally opened the door, my arms and legs had gone numb.

I could barely stand when I saw Lily glaring at me, holding my diary in her hands.

"Samuel, look," she said mockingly. "She still remembers how nice you were to her when you were kids. She's still dreaming about being Mom and Dad's little princess."

Samuel pinched Lily's cheek, grinning. "Jealous over something this small? What am I going to do with you?"

Lily stomped her foot and ran off with my diary to find our parents. "Dad, Mom, Emily's always resented me! She's been trying to replace me. Maybe I should just leave."

I heard their voices from the next room. "How could we let you go, Lily? Just treat your sister like the family dog, Bobo. We only feed her because we have to. Don't take her seriously."

I forced a bitter laugh. I'd known how this would end for a long time, but it still hurt.

Later, resting in bed, Lily came in with a bowl of soup.

"Dear sister," she said sweetly, "Mom saw you weren't feeling well, so she made you this soup. Go ahead, try it. You don't really think she'd poison you, do you?"

I was too tired to argue and took a few sips, but something felt off.

Then Lily laughed, a cruel, gleeful sound. "Didn't you notice? It's made from your pet dog, Bobo, the one you raised since you were little. How does it taste? Fresh and tender, right? Nothing's more nourishing than eating what you raised yourself."