Chapter 3
I learned too late that this marriage was only ever a business transaction.
The Sullivan family, with only one heir per generation for three generations, needed a woman who could bear a son.
But my biological parents couldn’t bear to risk sending anemic Violet.
Just then I appeared, and suddenly there was a perfect solution.
Except I was the third wheel in their perfect plan.
Even Ethan, who grew up with me and was also a servant’s child who had been bullied terribly by Violet, quickly switched sides after learning everything.
I still remember him as a child, holding my hand, telling me he would study hard, make big money, become more powerful than the Fosters, so Violet would never dare bully me again.
But why had everything changed like this?
I stumbled toward the exit, but the more I tried to escape, the more trapped I felt.
The stains on my dress smeared the floor. Instinctively, I tried to clean it, but only made it worse.
Tears finally fell.
I know I should have given up long ago.
Escaping the hotel, I headed for the apartment where I’d lived with my adoptive mother.
It held twenty years of not–so–pleasant memories.
But I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.
The password error notification sounded. I stubbornly tried again.
The door opened to reveal a balding man with a beer belly.
After one look at me, he spat on the ground.
“Damn, where did this crazy woman come from?”
The door slammed shut. I left, defeated.
Yeah…This was no longer my home.
But the golden, magnificent Foster mansion couldn’t accommodate me either.
Even stray dogs barked at me as I passed.
Clutching my wedding dress, I limped along until I found a dark corner to sit in.
I was always meant to stay in the shadows.
As a child, I once picked up a water bottle Violet had discarded. She got angry, then snatched it back, and said trash like me wasn’t worthy of her leftovers.
Blake frowned and scolded her for being spoiled, then politely told me:
“I apologize on her behalf.“`
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Burnt Beauty, Family Beasts
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Chapter 3
Ethan saved his allowance for two months and bought me a princess cup, telling me:
“Our Olivia deserves the best of everything.”
Before the wedding, I actually saw Blake embracing Violet, comforting her tenderly:
“No matter what happens, I’ll be by your side.”
I asked him once why he loved Violet when she was so mean.
Blake answered with unusual seriousness:
“She’s impulsive, selfish, has her quirks–I know that better than anyone. That’s why I am even more worried: without my protection, who would fix the messes she makes?”
I wanted to ask him about the kindness he had shown me all these years.
Only now did I understand. It was just that he’s accustomed to cleaning up for Violet, and happened to appease me along the way in his kindness.
Huh… I’d been foolish enough to think it was special treatment.
I had also secretly read Ethan’s diary once.
His handwriting was strong and forceful:
“I will fight my way to the top. Someday, I’ll look down on Violet, make her beg for forgiveness, then make her fall hopelessly in love with me.”
And my biological parents?
I’d overheard Mom crying quietly in the bedroom:
“Why couldn’t Violet be my real daughter?”
She hated my tanned skin, disliked how I always kept my head down during meals, hated my constant submissiveness, my lack of refinement.
My father would often look at me and sigh, saying only:
“These things can’t be helped.”
As if my existence was their greatest burden.
But back then, I still clung to foolish hope.
I practiced my smile in the mirror over and over, frantically studying etiquette and posture.
I accepted Blake’s cold glances, and also worked to create the opportunities Ethan wanted.
But in the end, what did I get? No one even spared me a second glance.
Wandering aimlessly, I truly didn’t know where to go.
The night was deep, like falling into a bottomless dark current with no chance to struggle.
Before I could process my emotions, my father called.
In the six months since I’d returned to the Foster family, he had rarely initiated contact.
I answered anyway, only to hear his heavy voice:
“Who said you could leave? Violet arrives and you walk out, deliberately snubbing her? How do you think that makes her look?”
17.9%
Chapter 3
“Come back immediately. If you hadn’t insisted on calling Blake, Violet wouldn’t feel so guilty! She’s emotionally unstable right now, keeps mentioning you. Come apologize and clear things up.”
“You just have five minutes. Don’t disappoint me.”
I paused, my numb thoughts suddenly clearing.
“I’m not coming back.”
The Foster house, the Sullivan family, that world that didn’t belong to me–I wanted no part of it anymore.
As soon as I finished speaking, the man’s voice rose in feigned anger:
“How much longer will you keep this up? You’ve already turned all our lives upside down. Are you determined to drive Violet to her death before you’re satisfied?”
After his outburst, someone else grabbed the phone.
“Olivia Foster, I’m warning you–if anything happens to Violet tonight, I will make you pay!”
It was Blake’s voice.
Grief and despair slowly washed over me. A dull pain spread until the world went quiet.
Everything started spinning. The angry voice continued on the phone, but I could no longer make out the words.
It was just as well. Whatever form of escape, as long as I didn’t have to endure this anymore.
“Olivia Foster, I always keep my word. I won’t let anyone hurt my Violet, even if you are the Fosters‘ biological daughter, I won’t spare you!”
Won’t spare me? Whatever.
In the next second, my head hit the ground hard, but I felt no pain.
Just a strange sense of relief.
Finally, some peace and quiet.
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