Isn't worthy. The words stabbed into my heart like poison-tipped needles.
Seven years of grievance and anger erupted in an instant.
I couldn't hold back anymore. I raised my hand to slap her.
But before the slap could land, a hand caught my wrist.
Ethan stepped in front of Victoria, his brows drawn tight.
My gaze traveled up his arm and landed on the faint scar exposed at his neck. I froze.
That was from seven years ago. Grandma had just gotten sick, and the loan sharks I'd borrowed from came to collect. They blocked my door, came at me with a knife, about to cut me down.
He appeared out of nowhere and threw himself in front of me without hesitation.
That scar was from that day.
It felt like a hand was squeezing my heart—aching, sour.
The man who once took a blade for me... how had he become this?
He'd personally destroyed my chance to become a mother. Used it as leverage to humiliate me. Made me waste seven years of my youth living as a joke.
Looking at the scene before me, I suddenly felt it was all meaningless.
What was the point of fighting over this painting? It would only add more embarrassment.
I slowly loosened my grip. "Forget it. If you want it, take it."