Chapter 4

The smell of burning flesh filled the air. A vicious red glow lit up Cora's eyes, her lips curling into an uncontrollable, excited smile.

"You're nothing but a hick from some backwater town—who do you think you are, trying to challenge me? Beat her good!" Georgia snapped.

Fists rained down on me. I crouched there, covering my head, desperate to protect myself.

When they finally wore themselves out, Cora came forward and started tearing my clothes.

Maurice jerked his head away sharply.

"Whoa!" The others whistled and cheered.

Some guys stepped up to twist my arms, and I screamed like I'd just touched a live wire.

But my desperate struggle only made them go even wilder.

I hugged myself for dear life, trembling violently.

I was about to lose my mind.

With a wicked grin, Cora aimed her phone at me and flicked the flash on.

"Typical cheap junk from a flea market. Come on—we're going to the bar," she said.

She then grabbed me by the hair and started dragging me towards a motorcycle.

The truth was, my mental state was already in a mess. I had been forcing myself to hold it together—to not snap, to endure a little longer.

But in that moment, every last bit of my sanity snapped.

I knelt down with no dignity at all, really kept kowtowing like a whipped cur, begging her for mercy, begging her to let me go.

My head spun, and all I could see was one pair of fancy shoes after another. I was a wreck, frantically apologizing to the ones hurting me.

"It's all my fault, okay? I don't want the scholarship, I don't want anything! I'll stay out of your way forever," I pleaded.

"I deserve all this! I'm begging you, don't stoop to my level! Please—just let me go..." My voice broke.

I banged my head against the ground over and over. Maurice watched me coldly.

And finally, he spoke—but all he said was, "Make it quick. Someone might come by soon."

Suddenly, a car's headlights lit up the alley.

Cora instantly let go of me.

"Shit, that's my mom's car," she muttered.

Then she started to back away.

But the car door had opened, and Harley—who was well-groomed—stepped out fuming.

Harley snapped, "Cora, what the hell are you doing this time? Why do you insist on hanging around with people like her?

"Do you have any idea how crazy things go viral online now? If she posts this somewhere and we don't catch it in time, you're screwed!"

Harley started walking towards me. I was huddled on the ground, my clothes torn, barely conscious as I looked up at her.

At this point, I probably look even more like some homeless nobody in her eyes. So, how much money would she offer to brush me off this time?

Last time she tossed 350 thousand dollars at me. So what's it gonna be this time?

But when Harley got to me, she suddenly froze. Her pupils constricted sharply, as if she had seen something she couldn't believe.

She stood there, eyes wide, her gaze trembling.

"You. H-How could you…" Harley stammered, pointing a shaking finger at the reddish birthmark on my chest.

In the next second, she burst into tears. She stripped off her coat and wrapped it tightly around me.

I was swallowed up by the overwhelming scent of her perfume, and then I heard Harley scream, her voice raw and frantic.

"What are you all waiting for? Get her to a doctor—now!" Harley yelled.

Harley had me taken to the hospital. She stationed dozens of doctors and bodyguards at the door to keep Cora out.

This time, it wasn't a regular room—it was a luxury VIP suite.

I stared at her blankly and said, "A poor hick like me doesn't belong in a place like this. I'll dirty the sheets."

"No, Georgia—don't say that." Harley's voice cracked. "You're breaking my heart."

A doctor took a sample of my hair and left. Harley sat on the edge of my bed, her hands shaking, her eyes red and puffy.

I had never seen the always polished and poised Harley look so utterly distraught.

"Georgia, tell me," Harley asked, her voice unsteady, "d-do you remember when you lost your parents?

"Did your grandpa ever tell you anything? Where did he find you?

"Do you have any memories of when you were little? Do you remember what your mom and dad looked like?"

She fired off questions one after another, reaching for my hand—but I pulled away.

Suddenly, she whispered, her voice trembling, "H-Have you been okay all these years?"

"What do you think?" I asked calmly, staring back at her.