Chapter 2
Everyone froze in place, including me.
I hadn't meant to call him Dad, but "Sir".
But this three-year-old body seemed to have a mind of its own.
In a surge of fear and longing for protection, she blurted out the word buried deepest inside.
Richard froze. He looked down at my gaunt little face and my dark, round eyes.
I caught a flicker of mixed emotions in his cold gaze.
Shock, confusion, and a hint of emotion he himself failed to notice, a trace of softness.
Margaret's face went pale as a sheet.
An eerie silence filled the room. The air seemed to freeze.
Sarah, holding Anna, frowned deeper.
"What did she just call you?" she asked Richard with disbelief and disgust. "A servant's bastard actually has the nerve to call you Dad?"
Margaret, terrified, dropped to her knees with a thud.
"Mr. and Mrs. Grant, I'm so sorry! She's not right in the head, always spouting nonsense. I'll teach her a good lesson later," she hurriedly said.
She kept bowing, reaching out to cover my mouth.
I shrank back, dodging her hand.
I stayed on my knees, looking up at Richard.
I didn't say a word, stared at him with eyes that looked like Sarah's, refusing to back down.
My eyes spoke louder than words. I hadn't called the wrong person.
Richard's Adam's apple bobbed.
Surprisingly, he didn't lash out immediately, nor did he order Margaret to drag me away.
He stared at my face for what felt like ages.
Sarah was losing her patience. "Richard, what are you standing there for? Tell Margaret to get her out of here! Anna's scared."
Anna, in her arms, started sobbing again, right on cue. "Daddy, I'm scared. She's filthy."
Her voice snapped Richard out of his thoughts.
The flicker of emotion in his eyes vanished, replaced by his usual coldness.
"Margaret, take her away," he spoke in a flat tone.
"Yes, sir." Margaret let out a sigh of relief, scrambled to her feet, and snatched me up like a little chick.
This time, I didn't fight back.
Because I knew I was already halfway to my goal.
The seed of doubt had already been planted in his heart.
I caught that split-second look between us.
A business tycoon like him would never be easily swayed by emotions, but he trusted his own eyes and judgment.
My face was all the proof he needed.
Margaret dragged me out of the master bedroom in a hurry.
Behind us, Sarah's voice drifted over, trying to comfort Anna. "Don't be scared, Anna. Tomorrow, I'll kick her out of our house for good, okay?"
"Okay!" Anna stopped crying right away.
Margaret stopped in her tracks.
My heart sank. There was no way I'd let them kick me out of this house.
The long hallway was dead silent as we made our way back to the servants' quarters.
Margaret didn't say a word, but her grip on my arm kept getting tighter.
I knew a beating was waiting for me.
The moment we stepped into that dark, damp little room, she locked the door behind us.
Then she spun around, all the fear wiped from her face. Now it was vicious and full of hate.
"You little bitch!" She slapped me hard across the face.
It stung like hell. I stumbled and hit the floor.
"How dare you run off and spout such nonsense!" Still furious, she lifted her foot and kicked me hard.
I curled up, shielding my head with my arms.
That was the most effective way I'd learned to protect myself in the past three years.
I was already used to this pain.
Compared to endless hunger and cold, physical pain was the easiest thing to endure.
After a few more kicks, Margaret paused, out of breath. "Did you hear something or what?"
I was sprawled on the floor, keeping silent.
"I'm talking to you!" She yanked me up by the hair, pulling me off the floor.
My scalp felt like it was being torn apart.
I was forced to look up at her face, twisted with rage.
"I'm warning you, Olivia. From now on, if you dare to run off or say anything you shouldn't, I'll break your legs and rip your tongue out!
"Don't forget, I'm your mother. Remember, Anna is the heiress of the Grant family.
"You're a bastard nobody wants, and for the rest of your life, you're only good for being my daughter's slave!" she spat out every word with venom.
I looked at her, keeping my gaze steady and calm.
I didn't cry, and I didn't beg for mercy.
My calmness only made her angrier.
"You dare glare at me?" She raised her hand, ready to slap me again.
There was a sudden knock at the door.
"Margaret, are you in there?" It was a young maid's voice.
Margaret froze. Her expression flickered.
"What is it?" she asked impatiently.
"Mr. Grant wants to see you, " the maid called from outside.
Margaret's pupils contracted suddenly.
She thought, 'Mr. Grant?' Why would he want to see me at this hour?'
A sense of dread washed over her.
Margaret let go of my hair and slammed me down onto the floor.
"Stay right here!" She hissed the warning, then went to open the door.
The maid outside paused for a moment when she saw Margaret. "Margaret, your face..."
"Nothing serious," Margaret mumbled, quickly smoothing out her clothes and hair.
"Where is Mr. Grant?" she asked.
"In the study," the maid replied.
"Alright, I'll be right there," Margaret said.
She closed the door and locked it from the outside.
I heard her footsteps hurrying away.
The room was once again swallowed by darkness and silence.
I got up from the icy floor and walked over to the door.
I pressed my ear against it, but couldn't hear anything.
But I knew Richard had started to get suspicious after I called him Daddy.
He wanted to make sure. And Margaret was the first person he'd question.
A cold smile tugged at my lips.
Did Margaret really think locking me up would solve everything? How naive.
This tiny servant's room couldn't trap me.
I walked over to the window. With practiced ease, I dragged over a small stool.
The window was secured with a basic latch, not a lock.
I stood on my tiptoes and struggled to unlatch it.
Then I pushed the window open and took a deep breath of the cool night air.
Jumping from here was gonna sting. But I didn't care.
I knew tonight's drama was only kicking off.
I had to see it with my own eyes.