But I was wrong. A person’s "sacrifices" have to be measured against what they actually have to lose.
Victor had more money than he could ever spend, more time than he knew what to do with and more women than he could ever get bored of. To him, I was nothing more than a toy he had paid for—one that wasn’t allowed to resist, only obey.
I left the estate. Suddenly, heat surged through my body. My limbs went weak. The world spun around me as I gripped my head, trying to stay conscious. The teacup slipped from my fingers and shattered on the floor.
"You idiot! It wasn’t enough to seduce my brother—you actually thought you could marry him? Keep dreaming!"
"Should’ve just thrown you off from ten meters up! Dying in your own farewell performance—that would’ve been poetic!"
A sharp pain shot through my scalp.
Abigail let out a delighted laugh, her polished little boot grinding down on my hair. She patted my face again and again, like she was playing with a doll.
Behind her stood a man, his lips stretched into a disturbing grin.
The moment I recognized his face, my blood turned to ice. My ears rang. The metallic taste of blood filled my throat.