Chapter 3

I frantically started... touching myself.

But then, the lights flicked on.

I saw Isabella standing before me, holding an expensive Italian tailored suit, her eyes filled with disbelief.

"Jacob, what are you doing?"

Her voice grated on my nerves. My mind exploded, tears streaming down my face.

I groveled on the floor, banging my head repeatedly. "Please, don't hit me. You can do whatever you want."

When nothing happened for a long moment, I fearfully squirmed, trying to show I was compliant, not resisting.

Suddenly, a sharp kick landed on my lower back.

I curled up in pain. They'd taken a kidney from that spot just a month ago; it was too fragile for any rough treatment.

"Jacob Sterling! Do you even look like an heir anymore?"

I jerked my head up, meeting her gaze, a moment of clarity piercing through the fog.

"No, no, I... I was..."

I tried to explain, fumbling, not knowing where to start.

She threw the suit at my feet, cutting me off.

"Still dare to make excuses! Are you going to say someone forced you? With your status, who would dare touch you! A grown man, learning such disgusting things!"

Her expression shifted from anger to disgust. "Jacob, let me tell you, cut out these cheap tricks. I will never like you."

"Let alone that you're just a kid who hasn't even fully matured, even if you were a real man, I wouldn't be interested in the slightest!"

With that, she slapped me hard across the face, several times.

The first slap.

"Why did you become such a... freak, neither man nor woman!"

The second slap.

"Why can't you learn? Why must you harbor these filthy thoughts!"

The third slap.

"Why are you such a lost cause? How will you ever take over?"

Seeing my face redden, she finally couldn't bear it and turned away.

She placed my father's photograph in front of me, along with a phone playing a video she'd just recorded.

"Your father died for this Family. And you?"

"You kneel here and reflect. See if you can face your father!"

Then, she turned and strode out.

I knelt there, fingers gripping my father's photo so tightly they turned white.

The video played my begging voice over and over.

Those sounds wrapped around me like a nightmare, inescapable.

My eyes bloodshot, I sank into painful memories of the past.

A year. I had learned to be obedient.

Learned not to complain.

Even learned not to love her anymore.

But why wouldn't she let me go?

I truly didn't dare anymore. Didn't dare to love her, didn't even dare to get close to her.

Wasn't her punishment enough? If not, I'd do it myself!

As if possessed, I started slapping myself frantically, muttering as I did.

"I don't dare anymore, Jacob doesn't dare to love Isabella Blackwood anymore..."

Over and over, I repeated the phrase numbly, until I finally passed out.