They Let the Fake Heiress Ruin Me

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After the fake heiress slandered me for the ninety-ninth time, my family sold me to the most sadistic tycoon in Los Angeles.

I lay on the ground, crying and banging my head until it bled, begging them to let me go.

But my father, George, slapped me hard across the face. You wanted to fight for attention and bully Audrey? Go to the tycoon, learn your place, and how to behave.

My brother, Holt, chimed in from the side, "Exactly! Audrey is the same age as you, so how is she so much more thoughtful and caring? If you can't learn the rules, don't ever come back!"

My mother, Mason, who once loved me the most, looked at me with a stranger's eyes. She held Audrey in her arms, and her gaze was like an icy arrow.

"Only by suffering can the lesson be etched into your bones. Only then can you understand Audrey's hardships and pain."

So I was sent away. I carried three pregnancies for the tycoon that never came to term, was handed to his rivals for humiliation, took the fall for his crimes and went to prison, had three fingers severed, was forced to crawl through crotches and bark like a dog...

In the third winter, I escaped, and died alone under a frozen bridge.

Two years later, my family wanted to draw my Rh-negative blood to save the fake heiress, but I had already been dead for five years.

I died. My soul drifted into the pitch-black night sky, staring down at my ghastly, inhuman, pale corpse.

Following my faded memories, I drifted back to the Rasmus family home.

The house was so lively, hosting Audrey's birthday party.

I stared at Audrey, who was the center of attention, like a princess among her subjects.

She wore a designer haute couture dress, diamond-encrusted high heels, and jewelry worth a fortune, smiling a stunning, show-stopping smile.

I thought of myself, frozen to death under the cold bridge.

Dressed in a filthy, ragged cloth, my face so disfigured from inhuman torture it no longer looked human. My left hand was a disgusting sight, three fingers chopped off from my escape attempt.

Yet, I was clearly the child of my parents, Holt's biological sister, and I had died a miserable death in the ice and snow, with a grievance I could never let go.

Amidst the laughter and chatter, a noblewoman mentioned me.

"Where's Carol? Why isn't she out? Isn't it her birthday too?"

Mason's face darkened, and George and Holt's faces looked like they could drip water.

Audrey paused, her eyes darting around, and said with a smile, trying to smooth things over.

"Mom and Dad punished her, and she got upset and ran away from home. It can't be helped; Carol has always been more delicate than me."

The noblewoman nodded, tactfully not mentioning me again.

George snorted, sneering.

"Audrey, you don't need to make excuses for that scoundrel. A degenerate who frames her sisters and harms her own familythe Rasmus family has no such daughter!"

The noblewoman gasped, covering her mouth.

I knew she was a gossip. Without a doubt, my reputation would be dragged through the mud by those few words tonight.

Holt's face was full of disgust as he clenched his fist.

"Dad's right. Rest assured, Audrey, as long as I'm alive, and as long as she hasn't repented, I won't let her set foot through the Rasmus family's door again."

Mason also nodded, her face expressionless.

"On such a joyous day, why bring up that unlucky person?"

I thought about the past.

When I first returned to the Rasmus family as the true heiress, they all treated me like a treasure.

Audrey always said she saw me as her dearest and best sister, but whenever we were together, she was always having some kind of "accident."

She fell and scraped her knee, saying I pushed her, deliberately making her look bad at a business banquet.

She said I poisoned her drink, making her throat hoarse so she couldn't sing, causing them to get last place in a choir competition.

Slowly, George stopped smiling at me, Holt stopped calling me his sister, the gifts they prepared never included me, and Mason stopped holding me or making me delicious food.

The only things I received were endless distrust and punishment.

Finally, one day, when Audrey cut her own face and said I did it, they sold me to the most ruthless "sugar daddy" in all of Los Angeles.

"If you don't learn your place, don't ever come back!"

I was sold to be molested in a casino, forced into bed with greasy men.

I was beaten until I miscarried, carried three pregnancies for my abuser that never came to term.

I was handed to his rivals for humiliation, took the fall for his crimes and went to prison.

I had three fingers severed, was forced to crawl through crotches and bark like a dog...

Thinking about this, my eyes turned red.

Dad, Mom, Holt, if you knew the torture I endured and that I was already dead, what would you do?

Just then, George's phone rang. He patted Audrey's shoulder affectionately and walked aside to answer it.

"Hello, this is the LAPD. Carol's body was discovered by a passerby tonight. Please come to claim the body as soon as possible."

I waited for George's reaction, but he just let out a cold smirk.

"Carol, what kind of trick are you playing now? You want to come home? Dream on!"

"Did you think we'd let you come back and bully Audrey?"

A pang of pain shot through my heart. It was true. Over the years, I never stopped hoping my family would get me out.

Even when the result of trying to contact them was a broken right leg, ten fingernails being pried off, or being beaten unconscious again and again.

Over the years, I tried everything.

Sending messages through people, calling, texting, even going to find them myself, but it was always like a stone sinking into the ocean.

The day after I was beaten into a miscarriage, I chewed through the ropes and jumped from a fourth-story window, running barefoot straight to the Rasmus Group headquarters.

The security guard was shocked by my pale face and horrific injuries, hurriedly helping me call the police and running to find my family.

But in the end, I didn't see any of my family members. The security guard was fired by Audrey.

I was sent back to my abuser's house by the Rasmus Group's bodyguards, awaiting me was pepper spray, a waterboarding cell, and being tied up under the sun while the flesh on my back was sliced off piece by piece...

The tycoon picked his teeth with a sadistic grin, spat his phlegm on my face.

"Miss your family, huh? Here, let me let you hear their voices."

He played a recording on his phone. It had my dad, mom, Holt, and Audrey.

"Dad, I heard someone calling herself Carol is at the gate. Shouldn't you go check it out?"

It was Audrey, feigning concern for me.

Holt sounded impatient.

"What? She ran out? Then just send her back. Is this little thing worth bothering Dad over?"

"That's right, Audrey. You're just too kind. After all the bullying she did to you back then, a little suffering is good for her."

George echoed.

"I bought you a carload of new clothes. Go see if you like them."

From then on, I lost all will to live, only wanting to die.

Back to the present. Holt furrowed his brow, his face hesitant.

"Dad, the police wouldn't mess around with someone like this, would they? Should we send someone to check?"

Audrey's face was grim. She picked up her phone and went off to the side, fiddling with it.

George scoffed, his face full of disdain.

"Silly boy. With AI so prevalent now, who can't fake an audio clip?"

"Don't let family ties blind you to the truth. A mistake deserves punishment. Why should Audrey be the one to suffer?"

Mason, who had been a bit suspicious, immediately lost most of her doubt and turned angry again.

"That kid is really something else, deliberately using our concern for her to threaten us!"

Holt shook his head, his brow furrowed, expression grave. "Is it real or not?"

Just then, Audrey ran over with her phone in hand.

"Look! Carol's Twitter account just followed a celebrity and liked her favorite celebrity's posts!"

Holt grabbed the phone and looked; his face flushed red, he clenched his fist, and the veins on his forehead throbbed.

"Great! She fools us and still has the nerve to be on Twitter! It seems the tycoon's punishment was too light."

Saying this, he walked aside and called the tycoon.

"Hey, Mr. Brooks. Yeah, you need to step up the punishment for Carol. Don't let her have any more of these ridiculous, strange ideas."

I floated in mid-air, shivering in fear at the sound of the tycoon's voice.

But Holt, that Twitter account that belonged to me had long been taken by Audrey to boost her favorite celebrities.

And the so-called usage record was clearly staged by her.

The truth was, I was already dead, long ago.

After the party ended, the Rasmus family home returned to silence.

But that phone call about me was like a needle lodged in everyone's heart.

The usually fastidious George sat on the couch, chain-smoking one cigarette after another, ashes falling all over the floor.

Mason held a teacup, the tea long gone, but she mechanically sipped from it, her gaze drifting towards the door.

Holt paced back and forth irritably, unlocking and locking his phone, finally slamming his fist against the wall.

"What the hell is Carol trying to do now?!"

Nobody answered. I just looked at them sorrowfully.

Then, the housekeeper came down from upstairs carrying a cardboard box, asking cautiously.

"Sir, should I still keep these?"

I looked down, and my heart clenched violently. Those were my things.

The teddy bear I slept with as a child, the trophy from my first competition, a photo with my parents, the birthday gift Holt bought me, and a diary worn ragged at the edges.

George's face instantly darkened. "Throw it all away."

Mason's fingers paused slightly, and she said subconsciously, "Maybe we should keep it for now."

A flicker of panic flashed in Audrey's eyes. She quickly hugged Mason's arm, her eyes reddening.

"Are you still reluctant to let go of Carol?"

"It's actually okay. After all, she's your biological daughter, and I'm just an outsider..."

She lowered her head as she spoke, tears streaming down her face.

Holt's expression changed immediately. He rushed to her and pulled her into his arms.

"Nonsense! How can she compare to you!"

George was even more furious. "That beast isn't even fit to lick your boots!"

He stood up abruptly, kicking the cardboard box over. "Burn it! Burn every last bit of it!"

The contents scattered all over the floor.

I watched helplessly as the scarf Mason had knitted for me as a child was trampled into the mud, and the music box Holt gave me shattered into pieces.

Finally, the housekeeper took everything to the backyard.

The fire burned fiercely, the flames lighting up half the sky.

I stood by the fire, staring blankly as those things slowly turned to ash.

Mason suddenly spoke. "Carol used to really love that bear."

Holt paused for a moment.

George's face was grim as he snorted. "Love it? Then she shouldn't have done such shameless things!"

But after he finished, the surrounding area fell silent, and nobody spoke.

Audrey clenched her hands, her nails digging deep into her palms. George irritably stubbed out his cigarette.

The next day, the Rasmus family went to dine at the most exclusive private club in Los Angeles.

From the hallway came the loud, drunken laughter of a few men.

"I'm telling you, that crippled chick at Mr. Brooks' place, tsk, an absolute delicacy."

"Not only does she crawl like a dog, but she wiggles her ass. I heard she used to be some Miss Carol or something!"

The wine glass in Holt's hand shattered on the floor. Mason's face turned ashen, and George froze instantly.

I hovered in mid-air, shaking all over.

Those men, they were the ones who had brutalized me.

Holt suddenly stood up and rushed over, his voice trembling. "Who did you just say?"

The men were startled. One of them said drunkenly.

"Mr. Brooks' little plaything. What was her name..."

"Oh, yeah. Carol."

A dead silence filled the air.

Mason's legs went weak, almost collapsing to the floor.

George's face was ashen, veins bulging on his forehead. "Say that again?"

The man was frightened by them, his drunkenness fading by half.

"Just that woman Mr. Brooks keeps. Everyone knows about her."

"I heard she was pregnant several times, all aborted. She even did time for Mr. Brooks..."

"Later, she ran away and got caught. Three fingers were chopped off. It's even more thrilling with a broken body!"

Holt's breathing grew more and more rapid, his eyes bloodshot. "What did she look like?"

The man tried hard to remember. "Pretty skinny. Her face was ruined, couldn't really see clearly. But I heard she used to be really beautiful..."

"Her name was something like Carol?"

The knife and fork in Mason's hands clattered to the ground. She began to tremble all over. George's face was terrifyingly grim, his lips turning white.

At that moment, Audrey suddenly stood up, forcing a smile to interrupt. "It definitely wasn't Carol!"

"Lots of people in LA are named Carol. And isn't she still active on Twitter?"

"How could she be as miserable as they say?"

She deliberately clung to Mason's arm, saying softly.

"Mom, don't overthink things. Carol is so smart, she wouldn't let herself be taken advantage of."

Holt was stunned for a moment. The wavering in George's face slowly subsided.

Right.

If it was really me, how could there be no news at all?

If it was really me, why would the police only call once?

If it was really me, why wouldn't I come home?

They desperately convinced themselves, but once the seed of doubt was planted, it would eventually take root and sprout.

I was willing to wait, wait for the day the truth came to light.

I could afford to wait. After all, I was already a spirit.

Ever since returning from the club that day, everyone in the Rasmus family had been acting a little strange.

Especially Mason, who started having sleepless nights.

Sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat, grabbing George and asking.

"Hey, you don't think something really happened to Carol, do you?"

George would turn over irritably. "Don't be so paranoid!"

But after he said it, he couldn't sleep anymore either.

On the internet, news about me started popping up out of nowhere.

At first, it was just some gossip accounts posting comparison videos.

"'Fake Heiress Audrey is the True Socialite,' 'Carol is Evil, Bullies Poor Audrey.'"

In the videos, Audrey was gentle, kind, elegant, and noble.

And I was edited to look like a vicious, scheming, jealous true heiress.

The comment sections were flooded with abuse.

"I heard she got kicked out of the house. Serves her right."

"Audrey is so pitiful, being bullied by someone like that for so many years."

Audrey held her phone, unable to suppress the smile at the corner of her mouth.

She pretended to be worried. "Mom, Dad, should we clarify? I'm afraid Carol will be sad if she sees this..."

Holt sneered. "She has the nerve to be sad?"

George even directly told his assistant to fuel the trending topic, pushing the hashtag #Carol The Evil Heiress# to the top.

I floated in mid-air, watching those filthy words, my heart felt like it was being carved by a thousand cuts.

But slowly, the tide began to turn.

Someone anonymously posted a few photos.

In a dim basement, a woman covered in blood was kneeling on the ground.

She was barely clothed, her left hand was empty, missing three fingers, and her back was covered in crisscrossing wounds.

There was also a blurry video clip.

In the video, a woman was being forced to crawl through a man's crotch and bark like a dog.

The men around her roared with laughter.

And that woman, curled up on the ground like a dying dog.

Although her face was mostly hidden by blood and matted hair, anyone familiar with her could still recognize it was me.

The internet exploded instantly.

"WTF! Is that Carol?"

"For real? That's so brutal."

"I thought it was just running away from home?"

"This is a crime!"

When Mason scrolled to the video, her face went white as a sheet. Her phone fell to the ground, shattering.

Holt stared intently at the screen, his breath ragged. "How is this possible..."

George, for the first time, fell silent.

The entire living room was deathly quiet.

Just then, Audrey suddenly cried out.

"Look! There are already people online analyzing it, saying the video was deliberately faked to smear the Rasmus family!"

Sure enough, a massive number of accounts started posting like crazy.

"'Secret of the Rich! The Rasmus Family's True Heiress Suspected of Being Sacrificed'"

"'The Rasmus Family Made Their Fortune Through Dark Arts, Their Biological Daughter Was Used to Ward Off Disaster'"

"'Carol is Dead, Her Vengeful Spirit Appears at the Rasmus Family Home for Revenge.'"

The rumors got more and more absurd, and someone even Photoshopped a picture of me, covered in blood, standing in front of the Rasmus family home.

For a moment, the entire internet was buzzing, and the Rasmus family actually felt a sense of relief.

Yes. With things this ridiculous, it must be fake.

Holt irritably turned off his phone. "A bunch of psychos."

George sneered. "I told you someone was deliberately messing with us."

Although Mason's face still didn't look good, she reluctantly nodded.

Only I was desperately shaking my head. It wasn't fake.

Those wounds were real. That blood was real.

Audrey suddenly let out a little "ah!"

"Carol's online on Twitter!"