Then I looked up at Alexander with eyes devoid of everything except resignation.
"Is that enough?" I whispered.
His nostrils flared as he noticed the blood pooling beneath my face.
"Lauren," he sneered, grabbing my chin roughly, "Your grandfather is dead, and I own everything he left you. Your tears won't work on me anymore. Who exactly are you trying to impress with this victim act?"
Before I could respond, the healer arrived—Alexander's personal physician who had falsified my medical records numerous times to cover the abuse.
Stepping over me like I was nothing but a stain on the floor, Alexander guided the doctor straight to Victoria's side, leaving me bleeding on the marble.
While Alexander attended to Victoria's every whimper, I slipped quietly through the service entrance.
I had barely made it halfway down the winding driveway when headlights flooded the darkness. A familiar black SUV pulled up alongside me, the healers vehicle.
The family lawyer, Mr. Reeves emerged with a sympathetic smile.
"Lauren, thank goodness we found you. Alexander is worried sick," he lied smoothly. "You're having another episode. Let us help you home."