I dragged my tired feet home only to see my things scattered all over the floor.

The moment I saw the framed photo on the ground, the color drained from my face.

I picked it up with trembling hands. With red-rimmed eyes, I screamed at the housekeeper, "Who gave you permission to touch my dad's photo?"

She didn't even bother to look up and coldly replied, "Mr. Compton gave the order. If you have a problem, take it up with him."

Her tone was full of contempt, as if I wasn't the lady of the house. After all, I was probably worth less than trash in the Compton family.

Just then, a voice came from behind me.

"I told them to do it. What about it?"

I turned around to see Eric impatiently staring at me.

"Monica's coming back. She loves places that face the sun, so move out of your room. You'll sleep in the staff quarters."

He glanced at my worn-out clothes on the floor and sneered, "After all, that's the life you've always known, right? It doesn't seem like it's beneath you."

Eric had always looked down on my humble background. He believed that marrying me was an insult to his status as the Compton family's heir.

Marrying above one's station had always been like this. No matter how much it hurt, I had to swallow all my grievances and keep quiet.

But now, I no longer wanted to put up with it.

I quietly picked up my father's photo and stood up to leave.

When I didn't head toward the staff quarters, Eric frowned and grabbed my hand. "Where are you going?"

I flatly answered, "Since Monica is coming back, I won't stay here and be an eyesore."

Eric clicked his tongue and said, "At least you know your place. But there's no need to move out."

He looked up and spoke like he was being generous. "Monica said what she missed most while abroad was your beef stew. You can stay here for a while and cook for her."

Then, he seemed to remember something and coldly added, "Don't tell her I ever touched you. You know what will happen if she finds out." He tightened his grip on my wrist and looked at me with a threatening gaze.

I could almost taste the bitterness in the milk again—the ones he had laced with birth control.

I nodded. "Don't worry. I won't bother either of you." I never will again.

Eric nodded in satisfaction and went upstairs.

In just a few minutes, the company's styling team arrived with the latest designer suits and luxury watches.

I had never seen Eric so eager or invested. He had truly gone all out for Monica. However, he'd only ever showed me his miserable and worn-down side.

…

That night, Eric brought Monica home.

When she saw me in the house staff's uniform carrying beef stew, a flash of amusement crossed her eyes. She said with fake remorse, "How could I let you cook for me, Avery? You're Eric's wife, after all."

Eric affectionately looked at her. "To me, you're my true wife. It's her honor to cook for you."

I stood there stiffly, listening to them flirt in front of me. Just as I was about to set the stew down, someone bumped my elbow.

The scalding beef stew spilled, and the back of my hand turned red from the burn. Before I could even cry out in pain, Eric shoved me aside and yelled, "Can't you be more careful? What if you hurt Monica?"

He gently picked Monica up and knelt in front of the couch with a frown. Then, he carefully wiped the stew off her high heels.

I looked up and met Monica's taunting gaze.

"Eric, is Avery mad? I only said I wanted her beef stew. I didn't mean to treat her like a maid."

Her pitiful expression stirred Eric's need to protect her. He turned to me, and the look in his eyes suddenly darkened.

He marched over and slammed my hands onto the shattered porcelain on the floor. "How dare you try to hurt Monica? You won't learn your lesson until you're punished, will you?"

His anger didn't subside until my hands were torn and bleeding.

When he saw me grit my teeth in silence, Eric froze for a moment. Then, his grip eased slightly.

Just then, Monica's voice rang out, "Eric, let's go upstairs. Didn't you say you had a gift for me?"

When Eric heard what Monica said, he stood up.

Before walking away, he coldly said, "Go reflect on your mistakes in the prayer room. You can come out when you realize what you did wrong!"

He then had someone throw me into the dark room—the place I was always punished in.

Right on the other side of the wall was Eric's bedroom.

Inside, Monica's playful voice rang out, "Eric, I'm not hurt. Why were you so harsh toward Avery?"

"Scaring you was her biggest mistake! Besides, she's rough and tough. Locking her up won't hurt her," Eric replied.

Then, the faint rustling of clothes followed.

Monica's voice was soft and sweet as she said, "Eric, you're a married man. What we're doing isn't right."

Eric's tone was full of affection as he replied, "You don't know how cheap she smells. I feel disgusted just touching her. You've been the only one I've loved all these years.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure it doesn't hurt…"

Their moans and whispers slipped through the crack in the door, grating on my ears.

I stared at the cross in the prayer room, wondering what I had done wrong to deserve this kind of suffering.

…

Eric had completely forgotten about my existence.

I was locked in the dark room for three days, and he'd spent the whole time tangled up with Monica.

Meanwhile, the shards of porcelain were still stuck in my wounds, and no one had treated them. It was the height of summer too, and I could already smell the stench of rot.

By the time Eric finally remembered that I was still around, I was exhausted and starving. I had even fainted several times before.

When the door opened, a housekeeper dumped a bucket of cold water over me.

"What's that smell? It stinks!"

A few of them dragged me out with looks of pure disgust.

"Did you think marrying Mr. Compton means you've moved up in the world? Only a real heiress like Ms. Lynch deserves a man like him," one of the housekeepers said.

They shoved me roughly into the fountain and blasted me with water from spray nozzles.

Once they cleaned me up, they brought me straight to Eric.

Eric glanced at me and said in surprise, "You really are tough! Three days locked up and you're still standing.

"Grandpa wants me to bring you to the family banquet. Clean yourself up and don't embarrass me."

Then, he tossed me a gown and frowned. "Grandpa said he has an important announcement. What's so serious that he has to make a whole scene out of it?"

I knew exactly what it was—Richard was going to end the marriage and let me go.

When he saw the bit of hope on my face, Eric warned, "Don't even think about complaining to Grandpa. If Monica feels wronged, you'll pay for it tenfold."

Then, just as I was about to get in the car that night, Monica rolled down the passenger-side window and apologetically smiled.

"Avery, I have car sickness. Do you mind if I take the front seat?"

I ignored her provocation and quietly opened the back door.

Eric frowned and glared at me before turning to her. "You're too kind for your own good, always worrying about others. My passenger seat is meant for you. No one else gets to sit there."

…

At the banquet, I sat alone in a corner. All the while, I watched Monica cling to Eric as they mingled with the crowd.

Meanwhile, the guests threw mocking glances my way. Still, I couldn't care less. After all, I had been a joke to everyone for seven years. All I cared about now was that Richard would finally let me leave.

Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared in my line of sight. I tensed up instantly.

"Avery, how dare you show up to the family banquet?"

Barbara Lane's snide voice rang in my ear.

A second later, a sharp pain shot through the soft flesh at my waist.

She dismissively scoffed and pulled her hand back. "Why didn't you go to the IVF procedure I scheduled for you this week?"

How could I when I had been locked in the dark room for three days and couldn't even leave the house?

I was just about to explain myself when another voice cut in.

"Avery's been busy bag shopping for the past few days. She probably forgot about it," Eric said. He then shot me a warning glance, shutting me up before I could even speak.

My heart sank.

I knew he was afraid Barbara would take it out on Monica. But what about me? Did he ever stop to think what would happen to me after that?

Sure enough, the moment Barbara heard that, she slapped me hard across the face.

Instantly, a bright red handprint quickly appeared on my cheek.

"We took you in and cared for you, but you can't even get pregnant. Now, you even have the nerve to skip your IVF appointment?"

Furiously, she slapped me again and again in front of everyone.

Soon, I collapsed to the floor as everything spun around me.

Eric saw how pathetic I looked and reached out to me without realizing it. Then, he caught himself and pulled back with a frown.

A flicker of jealousy flashed in Monica's eyes, and she quickly knelt down to help me get up. "Avery, apologize to Barbara. Quickly."

As she spoke, she pressed down hard on the wound on my hand. Her long nails dug into the raw flesh, and I jerked from the pain.

Without thinking, I pushed her away.

Monica cried out, and a bruise quickly formed on the back of her hand where it hit the corner of the table.

Eric's expression darkened instantly. He grabbed her hand, his eyes bloodshot with anger. "Avery, you've got some nerve. How dare you bully Monica? Have I gone too easy on you?"

The Comptons' relatives around us all looked at me with disdain.

"How typical of someone from a poor family. She's so petty. Monica was just trying to help her up, and she hit her in return!"

I gritted my teeth, holding back the pain as I tried to explain myself.

"I didn't mean to hurt her."

Eric laughed, angry and in disbelief. "I saw it with my own eyes. Are you still trying to lie?"

He grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward Monica. "Apologize to her!" he roared.

I stubbornly looked up and said, "I didn't do anything wrong. Why should I apologize?"

Eric's expression darkened. Then, he sneered, "Didn't you marry me for money? Are you trying to act all high and mighty now? It's too late!"

His gaze hardened, and he called for the bodyguards.

"Everything you've worn and used over all these years came from my family. If you won't apologize, then give it all back!"

I was so shocked I could barely stand.

I clenched my fists. "Eric, do you have no conscience at all?"

Eric's lips curled up into a cruel smile as he gave the order.

"You won't apologize? Fine. Strip her and throw her out! She can come back when she learns her lesson!"

The bodyguards didn't hesitate. They dragged me out and started yanking at my clothes in the freezing cold.

"And she calls herself Mr. Compton's wife? She's no different from those streetwalkers."

"She's not bad-looking though. We'll have to thank Mr. Compton for the show."

Laughter exploded around me as I struggled with all my strength.

At that moment, a wave of despair came crashing over me.

Just as someone tore at my dress, the front doors slammed open, and someone furiously shouted, "What the hell are you doing?"

Richard's fierce glare made the bodyguards release me immediately. They meekly replied, "Mr. Compton gave the order. We were just following instructions."

Richard was furious as he helped me off the ground.

"That bastard. I can't believe he would do something like this! How could he treat you like that after everything you've done for him?" Richard growled. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you get justice."

I tiredly shook my head, and the tears I had held back for so long finally fell. "I don't want anything. I just want to leave," I said.

Richard sighed and gently patted my hand. "I brought the divorce papers," he said.

I then put on his suit jacket and pushed open the doors to the banquet.

When Eric saw how disheveled I looked, he snorted. "Have you learned your lesson? Get over here and apologize to Monica!"

However, in the next second, a heavy slap landed across his face. "You should be the one apologizing!"