After I Faked My Death, He Went Crazy

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Just a tool for my pleasure. A kept woman, fine, but Mrs. King? No way.

Those were the words of the man I'd protected with my life for five years.

Three years ago, I found him bleeding in an alley, dragging him back from the brink of death.

I helped him navigate ruthless corporate battles, pulling him from bankruptcy to the pinnacle of success.

When I said I wanted to see the Northern Lights, he chartered a private jet that very night. When I mentioned loving cherry blossoms, he bought and planted an entire mountainside for me.

I thought this was love.

Until that car hit me, dragging me for hundreds of feet.

Then he walked into my hospital room, holding an agreement not to press charges, telling me to sign.

"Brittany just got back from overseas; she can't have this on her record."

Only then did I realize his ex-wife was back.

And my existence was nothing more than a used rag, discarded when convenient.

I dialed a number I hadn't touched in years:

"Code 0701, Valerie Shaw, requesting activation of the Phoenix Protocol."

They didn't know I was never just an ordinary bodyguard.

Valerie Shaw POV

Everyone in New York was buzzing about how Ethan King, notoriously cold and ruthless, was utterly captivated by his bodyguard, Valerie Shaw.

For five years, he was almost obsessed with my body.

The back seat of his Maybach, the penthouse club's restrooms, private jet cabins...

Even the dim, empty backstage of the annual company gala bore witness to our encounters.

We explored every position, in every conceivable place.

Our last time, we spent five days and four nights, going through ten bottles of lubricant.

My heart, too, had gradually fallen deeper with each of those countless intimate moments.

Until that sports car slammed into me, dragging me for hundreds of feet. Later, from my hospital bed, I overheard Ethan and the traffic cop talking outside my room.

"This accident was just a mistake. Brittany just got back, she was nervous and didn't see her. I'll handle it; I won't pursue any charges against her."

Brittany.

The name, sharp as a needle, pierced my heart unexpectedly.

That was the woman who had abandoned Ethan five years ago without a second thoughtEthan's ex-wife.

She was back?!

Before I could even process the information, another slightly teasing male voice chimed in. It was Dr. Alex Stone, Ethan's private physician and close friend.

"Tsk, Mr. King, aren't you rekindling old flames a bit too fast? You're already protecting Brittany?"

"Don't tell me you're still hung up on your ex-wife who dumped you?"

A brief silence fell outside the door.

A few seconds later, Ethan's voice resonated again, "Her family forced her hand back then; she had no choice. Now that she's back, I've decided to remarry her."

"Remarry?!" Alex's voice shot up. "What about Valerie Shaw?"

I instinctively clutched the sheets beneath me.

Then, I heard the words that would shatter every belief I'd held for the past five years.

"Valerie Shaw?" Ethan's tone was light, dismissive, filled with indifference.

"Just a tool for my pleasure. A kept woman, fine, but Mrs. King? No way"

"Given she's been with me for five years and mostly compliant, if she's sensible after the remarriage, I wouldn't mind keeping her around."

A tool for my pleasure...

My mind buzzed, a deafening explosion, and I felt all my blood rush backward to my head.

Images started flashing before my eyes, uncontrollably.

Five years ago, I had just finished dealing with loan sharks, covered in injuries, when I stumbled upon him in an alleyalso covered in blood, barely clinging to life.

I was the one who literally dragged him back from the edge of death.

His first words upon waking were a plea for me to stay.

Looking into his pleading eyes, my heart softened, and I finally nodded.

In the days that followed, I stood by him as he carved a path through the brutal corporate world.

Successfully transforming the crumbling, near-bankrupt King Enterprises into one of New York's top corporations.

Later, he'd charter a private jet to Iceland overnight just because I mentioned wanting to see the Northern Lights.

When I said I loved cherry blossoms, he spent a fortune planting an entire mountainside of them for me.

He'd even drive across half the city himself late at night just because I casually mentioned craving foie gras.

He'd book all the major billboards and digital screens across the city for my birthday.

When my mother's condition worsened, with a single call, he brought in New York's top specialists and covered all the expenses.

I thought I had his unique affection, even fantasizing about marrying him.

I never imagined that, in the end, it was all just my wishful thinking.

The hospital room door swung open, and footsteps interrupted my reverie.

Ethan walked in, holding a document.

His gaze swept over my pale face, instinctively avoiding my eyes. He handed me the document, his voice carrying a hint of barely perceptible tension.

"Just sign this. Brittany just got back; she can't have a criminal record. I owe you one for this."

Seeing the agreement not to press charges, I slowly lifted my head, my bloodshot eyes fixed on the man before me.

"Ethan," I said, my voice hoarse and heartbroken, "What am I to you, really?"

The mildness on Ethan's face vanished instantly, replaced by annoyance at being questioned.

"You heard?" He raised an eyebrow, then, as if too lazy to pretend, admitted directly, "Yes, it's exactly as you heard."

"I can grant you any compensation you want, but Brittany didn't do it on purpose. She's fragile and easily startled."

His tone was firm, a commanding order, "Valerie Shaw, be good and sign the document."

"What if I don't?" My voice trembled.

Hearing this, he leaned closer to me, "Sign it, and you can stay by my side, just like before."

"Don't sign, and I have all your dirty secrets. If they get out, I can't guarantee you'll walk away unscathed..."

I looked at the face of the man I had loved for five years, and suddenly, he seemed utterly unfamiliar.

A heart truly dies in an instant.

I said nothing more, picked up the pen, and signed my name on the agreement not to press charges.

Each letter I wrote felt like a knife carving into my own heart.

Ethan picked up the signed document, a satisfied expression returning to his face.

He reached out as usual, intending to smooth my stray hairs, as if nothing had just happened.

Valerie Shaw POV

But just as his fingertips were about to touch me, I sharply turned my head, dodging his hand.

"Don't trouble yourself, Mr. King!"

The words were harsh, but tears of heartache streamed down, uncontrollably.

Even when gravely injured before, I would just bite my lip stubbornly, never letting tears fall easily.

Ethan almost instinctively reached out to wipe away my tears, but a sudden phone call interrupted his gesture.

In the end, he did nothing, turning and hurrying out of the room.

The moment the door closed, I suddenly burst into laughter, my laughter echoing jarringly in the empty room.

As I laughed, hot tears streamed down, falling in large drops onto my cheeks and hitting the sheets.

After a long while, I wiped away my tears, then took out my phone and dialed a long-unused number.

When the call connected, I took a deep breath, as if summoning all the strength left in my life, and slowly said:

"Code 0701, Valerie Shaw, requesting activation of the Phoenix Protocol."

After Ethan left, he didn't reappear for three whole days.

But every morning, his assistant would bring carefully prepared gifts.

On the fourth morning, the hospital room door opened again.

When I saw Ethan's tall, familiar figure, my heart, dormant for days, almost imperceptibly skipped a beat.

However, that faint flutter instantly froze into ice when I saw the woman who followed closely behind him.

It was her, Brittany Reed!

The girl who, in high school, had ganged up on me in the bathroom stall, pouring dirty water on me, laughing and calling me the murderer's daughter, leaving me speechless for half a yearthat bully.

Ethan's ex-wife, Brittany, was that woman!

Under the immense shock and fury, my body began to tremble violently, uncontrollably.

Brittany released Ethan's arm and quickly came to my bedside, her face filled with worry and apology.

"Miss Shaw, how are you? I'm so sorry, it's all my fault, I was too careless driving..."

Her voice was soft and frail, and she reached out, intending to take my hand.

The next second, she leaned closer and whispered, in a voice only we could hear, "Long time no see, murderer's daughter. Did you miss me?"

Murderer's daughter.

The words sharply pierced my eardrums.

"Scream, why aren't you screaming? Didn't your murderer father teach you how to beg for mercy?!"

Brittany's piercing laugh from years ago instantly replayed in my mind.

"Don't touch me!" Almost instinctively, I used all my strength to violently swat away Brittany's outstretched hand.

Brittany gasped, stumbling backward. Her hand accidentally knocked over the IV stand next to the bed.

"Brittany!" Ethan's face changed instantly. He rushed forward, pulling Brittany protectively into his arms.

And the heavy IV stand crashed, squarely and forcefully, onto my chest, which was wrapped in thick bandages.

A metallic taste instantly surged into my throat. I felt my vision blacken from the pain and coughed up a mouthful of blood.

"Ethan, I didn't mean to, Miss Shaw..." Brittany buried her face in Ethan's chest, her voice choked with sobs, trembling.

Ethan held her tightly, looking at me with undisguised blame and anger.

"Valerie Shaw, what the hell are you doing?!"

I wanted to speak, to tell him who this woman was, to tell him what she had done to me.

But the searing pain in my chest and the blood clogging my throat allowed me only to emit broken, gurgling sounds, unable to utter a single word.

I could only stare desperately at Ethan, hoping he would give me a chance to explain, or at least a flicker of trust in his eyes.

But the next second, Ethan picked up the unharmed Brittany, didn't spare me another glance, and turned to leave the room.

Watching their retreating backs, I finally couldn't hold on, and fainted from the pain.

When I woke again, I found myself not in the hospital room, but in a moving car.

Two bodyguards in black suits sat beside me, Ethan's men.

"Miss Shaw, Mr. King instructed us to take you back to the villa to recover."

The car soon pulled into the villa I had lived in for five years, a place so familiar it felt like home.

As I was helped inside, I stopped abruptly.

The living room was filled with another woman's belongings, and the air was thick with an unfamiliar, sickly sweet perfume.

In the kitchen, Ethan was carefully simmering something.

I remembered he never used to enter the kitchen.

Ethan looked up at the sound, his gaze sweeping past me without a pause.

"You're back just in time. Brittany is delicate and needs someone to look after her. From today on, your duty is to protect her personally."

I followed his gaze. Brittany was gracefully descending the stairs.

She walked to Ethan's side and gave me an innocent, harmless smile: "Won't this be too much trouble for Miss Shaw? Her injuries aren't fully healed."

Ethan wrapped an arm around her shoulder, his voice gentle in a way I'd never heard before: "This is what she's supposed to do."

Then his gaze shifted to me, his eyes holding an undeniable command: "Did you hear me?!"

I looked up at the face I had loved and followed for five years, my nails digging deep into my palms.

For the first time, I refused him.

"I won't."

Valerie Shaw POV

"What did you say?"

He looked up, his deep eyes, for the first time, tinged with clear displeasure at my defiance.

I took a deep breath, suppressing the bitterness churning in my chest, and pointed directly at the seemingly innocent woman beside him.

"Ethan King, do you know what she once did..."

"Valerie Shaw." Ethan cut me off without ceremony, his voice turning cold. "What I say, goes! Don't forget your duty as a bodyguard!"

Duty.

A bodyguard's duty was unconditional obedience.

I had seen what happened to those who disobeyed Ethan's orders.

The rest of my words instantly caught in my throat. I ultimately didn't refuse again.

After all, I didn't want any more trouble before I left.

In the afternoon, Ethan went out on business, leaving only Brittany and me in the villa.

I had intended to retreat to my room, trying to avoid contact, but Brittany clearly had no intention of letting me off the hook.

She swayed elegantly to the center of the living room, surveying it like her own territory, her gaze sweeping over the furniture and decor.

Finally, it rested on the rug Ethan and I had once chosen together.

"It's exactly the same as five years ago, Ethan really hasn't changed a bit."

I clenched my jaw, offering no response.

Brittany didn't seem to care. She leaned back languidly on the sofa, crossing her legs, and said softly, "I'm thirsty. Get me a glass of water."

I stood my ground, unmoving.

Seeing this, Brittany picked up the cup of hot tea a maid had just prepared for her and leisurely walked over to me.

"What? Ethan just left, and you're already disobedient?"

Before she finished speaking, she splashed the scalding hot tea directly onto my face and neck.

My body reacted faster than my brain. I sharply recoiled half a step.

But my still-injured body slowed me down. A large portion of the tea still splashed onto my face and neck, turning my skin red instantly.

Brittany chuckled, her eyes filled with malicious glee. She then casually tossed the cup to the floor, extending her foot to tap the ground with her shoe tip.

"Now, hurry up and kneel to clean my shoes."

I sharply lifted my head, my hands clenched tight.

"Can't you understand me? Do you really think that just because you slept with Ethan King for a few years, you could become Mrs. King? Have you forgotten your place?"

Brittany spoke slowly, her smile venomous.

"Or is it that the inherent baseness from your murderer father makes you unable to even comply with basic orders?"

"Slap! Slap!" Before she could finish, two crisp, loud slaps landed hard on her face.

Just then, the sound of the front door opening came from the entrance.

Ethan immediately saw my reddened hand and the glaring slap marks on Brittany's face. His voice was cold as ice, "Valerie Shaw, who gave you permission to hit her?!"

"She called me the murderer's daughter!" My voice trembled.

Ethan's eyes narrowed, his gaze lingering for a moment on my scalded neck.

Brittany immediately clutched Ethan's sleeve, tears falling precisely like broken pearls.

"Ethan, how could I say such a thing? Knowing what happened to Miss Shaw's father, I only feel sad for her..."

"I just saw her standing there looking tired and wanted to invite her to sit and rest. Perhaps I spoke too quickly, and she misunderstood..."

Brittany's tearful appearance tugged at Ethan's heart.

He turned to me, his voice chilling, "No matter what she said, it wasn't a reason for you to lay hands on her!"

"Besides, Brittany wasn't wrong about your father."

All my words caught in my throat.

Years ago, he was framed, his company on the verge of bankruptcy. Devastated by his divorce from Brittany, he was utterly despondent.

To encourage him to get back on his feet, I had revealed my most painful, bloodiest scar to him, begging him not to give up.

But now, he was using that very knife, given to him by me, to ruthlessly stab me.

My heart ached as if pierced by a thousand needles. I found it hard to breathe.

Seeing my instantly pale face and my swaying body, a flicker of almost imperceptible pain crossed Ethan's eyes.

But in the end, he said coldly:

"This is the first time, and it will be the last. If I ever see you lay hands on Brittany again, I will not let you off the hook!"

With that, he didn't look at me again, carefully putting his arm around the sobbing Brittany, and turned to leave the room.

I stood frozen in place, unmoving.

I watched their retreating backs and then suddenly chuckled softly.

I realized that when your heart is truly dead, there are no tears left to cry.

Valerie Shaw POV

After that day, I stopped resisting, and I stopped holding onto hope.

I was like a hollow shell, mechanically carrying out Ethan's orders, tending to Brittany's needs.

Two days later, Ethan hosted a lavish gala to celebrate Brittany's return.

All of New York's elite attended, and as Brittany's bodyguard, I naturally had to be there.

But even standing in a corner for the entire evening, I still attracted plenty of whispers.

"She actually dared to show up?"

"Look at her. She thought she could marry Ethan King, but now his ex-wife is back, and she has to give up her place immediately."

"She's just a bodyguard, after all..."

Odd glances and unpleasant whispers constantly invaded my ears. I kept my eyes slightly lowered, my hands at my sides unconsciously clenching.

Throughout the entire auction, if Brittany so much as glanced at a collectible, Ethan would bid without hesitation, buying it at a high price.

Until the final item was brought out.

When the auctioneer removed the cover, and the giant digital screen behind him simultaneously displayed the photos.

The entire hall fell silent instantly, then erupted in uproar.

My breath hitched.

They were my private photos.

Asleep, wrapped in a towel fresh from the shower, a bare back, various dazed moments after sex...

All photos he had taken of me over these five years, when I was completely unsuspecting.

I snapped my head towards Ethan. His back stiffened almost imperceptibly.

Brittany chose that moment to walk onto the stage, took the microphone, and said in a sweet voice, "Everyone, please don't misunderstand. I gave these photos to the auction house."

"Miss Shaw has protected Ethan for many years and worked incredibly hard. I just wanted to use this opportunity to find her a good husband so she can settle down and start a family, without having to work so hard anymore..."

"These photos are meant to show everyone that Miss Shaw, once she sheds her bodyguard identity, is also a lovely and endearing girl. So, let's start the bidding at one dollar!"

One dollar.

A single, light sentence, trampling my last shred of dignity into the dirt.

The gazes from the audience instantly turned blatant, filled with scrutiny and amusement.

Many secretly glanced at Ethan's reaction. Seeing that he merely wore a grim expression, showing no reaction, their courage grew.

"Fifty!"

"A hundred!"

"Five hundred!"

The rising and falling bids, mixed with low chuckles, felt like whips lashing my skin.

I stood there, feeling like I was being peeled open inch by inch, displayed for amusement.

My strong self-respect wouldn't allow me to endure this. I abruptly stood up, my voice trembling: "I'll bid two hundred thousand for all of them!"

That was all my available savings.

The hall quieted for a moment.

However, a slick male voice immediately followed: "One million! Miss Shaw, come with me, I guarantee it'll be much more comfortable than being a bodyguard!"

It was Mr. Henderson, a notorious playboy in social circles. I heard he'd ruined the lives of at least three women.

I panicked, instinctively looking at Ethan, who was seated in the VIP section.

But he merely watched, expressionless, his gaze so indifferent it showed no flicker of emotion.

Finally, the gavel fell.

The last string in my heart snapped along with it.

After returning from the auction, I completely shut myself off.

I didn't cry or make a fuss. I just clutched my phone day and night, waiting for the call that would take me away.

Valerie Shaw POV

Just as I was almost consumed by despair, the call finally came.

The agency informed me that everything was ready. I could leave in five days, and my mother would be safely escorted out before then.

"Okay, I'll wait for you to pick me up."

Just as I ended the call, the door to my room was pushed open.

Ethan stood in the doorway, his eyes sharp: "Pick you up? Where are you going?"

I lowered my gaze, lying, "Mr. King must have misheard. In New York, without your permission, I have nowhere to go."

Ethan stared at me for a few seconds. He still looked suspicious, but he didn't press further.

"I've bought back and destroyed those photos from Mr. Henderson at the auction."

His voice was a bit stiff. "Brittany is pure-hearted and sometimes acts without thinking, but her intentions were good. Don't blame her."

I quietly replied, "Okay."

Ethan paused, surprised. "You're not angry?"

"No."

Ethan's tone softened even more.

"I know you've been through a lot these past few days. Actually..."

"If you have nothing else, Mr. King, please leave. I need to rest." I interrupted him.

With that, I turned my back to him.

I felt Ethan's gaze on me for a long time. Finally, he placed a box on the table. "For you."

Then he closed the door and left.

I opened my eyes, picked up the jewelry box, and threw it directly into the trash can.

Over the next few days, I counted down the days until my departure.

But what came first was a call from my mother's primary doctor.

"Miss Shaw, your mother's condition has suddenly worsened. You should come immediately!"

My heart dropped. I rushed out of the guest room but was blocked by expressionless bodyguards. The commotion alerted Ethan.

"What's all the fuss about now?" He frowned, looking at me.

"My mother is in trouble; please let me go to the hospital." I said urgently.

Ethan looked at me in silence for a few seconds. This was the first time I had let him see me so distraught and helpless. A subtle flicker of hesitation crossed his deep eyes.

"Let her go. Send men to follow and keep an eye on her."

Given permission, I bolted out of the villa like a madwoman.

I rushed into the hospital room, only to see my mother's ashen face, her chest heaving violently.

Seeing me, tears welled in my mother's cloudy eyes. Her frail hand gripped mine tightly, her lips trembling as she squeezed out a single sentence.

"A woman came... she said... I was holding you back..."

A woman?

A surge of immense fear and hatred instantly overwhelmed me. I gripped my mother's hand tightly, my whole body trembling.

"Mom, don't listen to her nonsense... You're not..."

Before I could finish, the monitoring machine suddenly let out a piercing alarm.

Doctors rushed in, and I was asked to leave the room.

Soon, the emergency room door opened, and I received the news I dreaded most.

As I forced my nearly collapsing body into the room, I saw my mother lying peacefully there, as if merely asleep.

My chest felt hollow, as if a piece had been ripped out, yet there was no blood left to bleed.

I handled my mother's funeral alone.

I didn't shed a single tear, just quietly signed all the documents, watching as the staff handed me the small wooden urn.

Clutching the urn, I walked out of the funeral home and hailed a car.

Valerie Shaw POV

The car stopped at the villa gates.

Inside, Brittany was casually lounging on the sofa, flipping through a fashion magazine.

Hearing the commotion, she looked up. When she saw me and the striking black urn in my arms, a flicker of surprise crossed her face, quickly turning into undisguised mockery.

"Well, well, holding someone's..."

"Brittany Reed!"

My voice was hoarse and broken. I walked step by step toward Brittany.

"The nurse said you visited my mother the day she died. What did you say to her?!"

Brittany watched my distraught state, a malicious smile she couldn't control spreading across her lips.

She stood up, took two steps closer, and in a voice only we could hear, whispered:

"I just told her that her daughter was as useless as she was, couldn't keep a man, couldn't keep her dignity, like a pathetic worm serving as someone's... Ah!"

Before she finished, the next second, I had already raised my hand and delivered a stinging slap across her face.

Brittany shrieked, stumbling back into the nearby wine rack, sending expensive bottles crashing to the floor.

My eyes were blood red, and I raised my hand to strike again.

Almost simultaneously, a figure rushed forward, faster, and shoved me hard to the ground.

My spine hit the floor, and my hands and feet were cut by glass shards, making my face turn ashen from pain.

But Ethan paid no attention, his eyes filled only with cold fury and accusation.

"Valerie Shaw, what are you trying to do now?!"

My knuckles turned white as I gripped the floor, gritting my teeth. "She killed my mother; she should pay for her crime!"

"Ethan, I didn't..." Brittany immediately grabbed Ethan's lapel, her eyes reddened.

"You don't need to explain, I believe you." Ethan gently cut her off. The next second, his gaze returned to me.

"Brittany has always been kind-hearted since she was a child; she wouldn't even step on an ant. Do you think everyone is like you, with a murderer's blood in their veins?"

Do you think everyone is like you?

I looked at his handsome yet utterly unfamiliar face, at Brittany's victorious gaze from his embrace.

Summoning courage from somewhere, I lunged forward and slapped Ethan hard across the face.

Ethan's head snapped to the side from the force of the slap. He turned back, disbelieving, his eyes filled with shock and fury.

He was about to speak, but the next second, meeting my bloodshot but hateful eyes, he said nothing.

In the end, he simply picked up Brittany.

"Out of respect for your mother's passing, I won't blame you for this slap. But you'd better pray Brittany is okay."

He then called in the bodyguards: "Keep a close eye on her."

And so, I was confined again.

After an unknown amount of time, urgent footsteps sounded outside the door again. Ethan had returned, his face terrifyingly cold.

"Brittany's wrist was almost fractured. She might not be able to play the piano again. She's been crying, saying it hurts terribly."

I showed no reaction, simply holding the urn tightly in my arms.

Ethan grew even more enraged at my demeanor. He stepped forward, snatched the urn from my arms, and casually tossed it to a nearby bodyguard.

My pupils constricted. Just as I was about to lunge to retrieve it, the bodyguards slammed me to the ground.

"Ethan King! What are you doing? Give me back my mother!"

Ethan's eyes showed no flicker of emotion. He took out his phone, dialed a number, and put it on speaker.

Valerie Shaw POV

The call was quickly answered, and Brittany's fragile, somewhat aggrieved voice came through: "Ethan?"

"Brittany," Ethan's tone was deliberately soft, "Does it still hurt?"

"Mm... it hurts." Brittany's voice, thick with tears, reached me.

"Don't be scared," his voice was chillingly gentle, "I'll make her apologize to you right now."

Before he finished speaking, he gave a look to the bodyguard.

One bodyguard pinned my right arm, the other grabbed my wrist, and with a sudden, forceful twist in the opposite direction.

"Snap!"

The crisp, sharp sound of bone fracturing echoed loudly in the empty basement.

"Ah!"

My body shuddered violently. I screamed, then passed out from the excruciating pain.

When I regained consciousness, I was in a guest room, on a hospital bed.

Dr. Alex Stone, who came to reset and cast my bone, trembled violently, his eyes bloodshot.

"How could he..."

But I was eerily calm, as if the pain didn't belong to me.

I just quietly gazed out the window at the gray sky, waiting for an opportunity to leave.

Fortunately, that opportunity was soon handed to me by Brittany herself.

Two days later, in the afternoon, Brittany disappeared.

Ethan mobilized all his resources, searching the entire city, but found nothing.

A day later, an extremely degrading video began circulating on the dark web.

In the video, a dozen dirty homeless men were assaulting a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Brittany.

The video production was crude, but Ethan, frantic with worry, didn't notice any anomalies.

He didn't even wait for his assistant to fully investigate before ordering me to be taken to an abandoned building.

"Tell me! Where did you hide Brittany?!" He grabbed my neck, his grip so powerful I instantly gasped for air.

"To use such despicable methods, I never knew you were so malicious!"

My face was turning blue from his grip. I struggled to squeeze out the words: "I don't know..."

"Still playing dumb!" He abruptly released me. "Besides you, who else would harbor such deep hatred for Brittany?!"

"Since you won't speak, don't blame me for being ruthless!"

He stepped back and waved at a bodyguard.

The next second, a saltwater-soaked leather whip slashed brutally across my thin back.

"Crack!"

A red welt immediately bloomed on my pale skin. I trembled from the pain, but bit down hard on my lower lip, refusing to make a sound.

"Continue!"

The bodyguard raised the whip again.

One lash, then another.

After an unknown amount of time, the whipping finally stopped.

Ethan knelt, grasping my chin. "I want you to pay double for what Brittany went through!"

"Bring those homeless men in!" he commanded sternly toward the door.

My unfocused pupils suddenly constricted. "Ethan King, you can't do this to me! You'll regret it!"

Ethan's turning motion paused briefly. A flicker of emotion seemed to flash in his eyes, but it was quickly covered by anxiety and fury.

"You forced my hand!"

Leaving those words, he left without looking back.

Soon after, hurried footsteps, mingled with crude language and lewd laughter, approached from nearby.

I tried to struggle to my feet, but my injuries made it impossible to move. I could only watch helplessly as those foul-smelling, lecherous homeless men walked towards me.

One of them banged a grin, his voice vile: "Today, I'll bring you pleasure..."

As he spoke, he reached out his dirty hand, about to tear at my clothes.

My stomach churned. Just as his fingertips were about to touch my collar.

With the last vestiges of my strength, I lunged upward from the floor, crashing through the nearby window, and threw myself down.