Chapter 3
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I approached the table, reaching for the chair beside Victoria.
"Freeze!" Tyler didn't even look up, his voice dripping with contempt. "You think you deserve a seat at this table? Look at yourself, you parasite. Who do you think you are?"
"Back to your kennel, dog. Or better yet, squat by the door and wait for Mrs. Wang to toss you some scraps!"
The dining room went dead silent.
Reed Senior frowned but remained silent. Miranda's lips curled into a thin, satisfied smile.
Victoria's hand froze mid-air, chopsticks suspended.
Scraps. Kennel.
Those words cut through me like knives, slicing open old wounds.
When I first "married into" the Reed family, Tyler had tested whether I was truly simple-minded. He'd instructed Mrs. Wang to dump rancid leftovers into a dog bowl and bring it to me with a smirk: "Hungry, idiot? Eat up. We saved this just for you."
I'd smiled vacantly and, under their contemptuous stares, squatted beside the dog kennel. I'd scooped that putrid slop with my bare hands and shoved it into my mouth, even mumbling "yummy" between bites.
My throat had closed up, my stomach heaving, but I'd maintained that idiotic, grateful smile.
All for Victoria, to cement her image as the "poor, fragile daughter burdened with a simple husband," ensuring her father's sympathy and protection.
Five years of humiliation ignited in that moment, sparked by Tyler's casual cruelty.
I froze before the chair.
I stared directly into Tyler's smug face.
"Tyler," my voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the room like a blade, "your mother spread her legs for wealth and status without hesitation. Shame you didn't inherit her cunning. All you got was the stupidity."
Dead silence fell.
The smirk on Tyler's face froze, morphing into shock, then explosive rage.
"What the fuck did you just say?!" He shot to his feet, jabbing a finger in my face.
Miranda's face contorted as she shrieked, "How dare you! You worthless imbecile! Where did you find the nerve!"
Reed Senior slammed down his spoon, his rheumy eyes wide with shock, as if seeing his "idiot son-in-law" for the first time.
Victoria reacted fastest.
She set down her chopsticks with a sharp click and rushed to my side, panic written across her face. She grabbed my arm, her manicured nails digging painfully into my flesh.
"Ethan! What's wrong with you? Are you having an episode? Stop talking nonsense! Come with me right now! Be good!"
She stared into my eyes, her words soothing but her gaze threatening.
She was warning me—don't forget your role, don't ruin everything she'd built.
I wrenched my arm free with such force that Victoria stumbled backward, right into Alexander Foster's waiting arms.
"I'm not confused," I stared at her—this woman I'd sacrificed everything for—my voice arctic. "I'm more clear-headed than I've been in five years."
That sentence lit the fuse.
"You're fucking dead!" came a savage roar.
Alexander Foster.
He lunged forward, his fist crashing into my face with sickening force.
Pain exploded through my skull. My vision went black as my body crumpled like a rag doll. The back of my head cracked against the marble floor, blood instantly streaming into my eyes.
Then came the barrage—fists raining down on my face, my ribs, my stomach.
My insides felt like they were being liquefied.
Copper flooded my mouth.
"Alex! That's enough!" Just as darkness began closing in, Victoria's voice cut through the haze.
The beating stopped.
Hands grabbed me, hauling me up like a carcass.
Through the bloody haze, I could barely make out Victoria standing before Alexander, her palm flat against his heaving chest.
"Take him to his room. Have Mrs. Wang patch him up," Victoria's voice had returned to its usual cool composure.
"Miss, he's…" Mrs. Wang eyed my blood-soaked clothes with revulsion.
"Throw him in the kennel out back!" Tyler cut in, breathing heavily, his voice venomous. "Let him cool off there! The bastard's gone too far!"
Victoria said nothing—her silence was consent enough.
They dragged me out and tossed me into the rotting wooden kennel in the far corner of the estate grounds.
