Chapter 4
Vincent’s eyes widened as he stared at the paternity test report, his body trembling violently from shock.
His lips quivered as he whispered, “You… you know everything…’
As soon as the words left his mouth, Vincent fled the scene in panic.
Meanwhile, I stood frozen in place, paralyzed by this cruel truth.
Ariana wasn’t Declan’s biological daughter.
While I remained rooted to the spot, the window was suddenly yanked open, and Declan glared at me with a dark expression.
A cruel smile played at the corners of his mouth: “So you’ve been eavesdropping all along.”
Overwhelming fear surged through me, and I made the quickest decision I could.
If Declan caught me, he’d surely beat me to death. In that case, I might as well choose death myself.
I climbed over the railing and jumped down like Emma had, seeking escape, wanting to flee from Declan’s brutal beatings.
However, fate never granted my wishes.
Declan lunged forward and grabbed my wrist, yanking my half-suspended body back onto the balcony.
Night wind rushed into my collar, and I caught a glimpse of panic in his eyes, but it vanished instantly, replaced by bone-chilling hatred.
The belt lashed viciously across my back, accompanied by the sound of breaking bones. I curled up on the cold tiles, blood seeping from the corner of my mouth.
He snarled maliciously, “You want to die? It won’t be that easy!”
Monica and Ariana, hearing the commotion, came downstairs to watch the spectacle.
I could only numbly endure all the mockery and beatings, staring blankly at the ceiling with hollow eyes.
Years of endurance and pain had left me physically and emotionally exhausted.
If Ariana wasn’t their biological daughter, then why did they continue treating me-their actual biological daughter—this way?
But I was tired, too weak to resist, too weak to seek the truth.
Perhaps only death could bring me peace.
“Dad, Mom, just beat me to death. That way you’ll only have Ariana as your child,” I whispered, completely missing the momentary look of shock that crossed Declan and Monica’s faces.
My ears filled with chaotic noise, mixed with curses like “damn”
and “bitch.”
My eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Maybe death was my only destination.
When I opened my eyes again, three days had passed.
The sharp smell of disinfectant hit me as I lay in a hospital
bed, tubes attached all over my body while a nurse changed my bandages.
“You’re going to be fine, Miss Hamilton.” A man in a white coat approached me.
He said, “My name is Edwin Nelson. I’m a forensic investigator looking into Emma Lawson’s suicide case. I’ve discovered that she’d been taking sleeping pills and sedatives for years.”
He continued, “I want to ask you-do you need my help?”
I’d heard those words too many times before, and every person who seemed to offer help eventually became another demon
who hurt me.
But all the injustices I’d endured over the years suddenly flooded back, and my psychological defenses completely crumbled. I broke down crying, sobbing my heart out.
In the end, I told Edwin about all the abuse I’d suffered over the
years.
After listening, he nodded solemnly and promised with
determination, “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely help you escape your parents’ control!”
To save me, he even started a livestream, wanting me to witness Declan and Monica face legal consequences with my own eyes.
Looking at his righteous appearance, I finally nodded slowly.
However, the facts proved that what Edwin said during the livestream was completely different from what he’d promised
