I was born with a cursed tongue. The words I said came true. So as soon as I understood what that meant, I stopped speaking. For more than twenty years, I never said another word.

Then my six-year-old son knocked his pregnant aunt over by accident, and my husband sent him to a kennel.

My son had been bitten by a dog before. He was terrified of them. I begged. I went down on my knees and slammed my forehead against the floor until it was bleeding.

Connor Grant lifted his sister-in-law Camille Lane up off the ground, ran a tender hand over her swollen belly, and his voice came out cold.

"Don't think I can't see what's behind this. He did it because you put him up to it. You're a calculating little mute. He has your filthy blood in his veins. If we don't break him now, he grows up worthless."

"Send him somewhere that knows how to teach a child his place. Teach him how things rank in this house. And teach you, while we're at it. Don't touch what isn't yours."

By the time I found my son, he was in a cage with five vicious dogs. There was almost nothing left to hold.

I pieced the small body back together. I opened my mouth for the first time in over twenty years, and the first words I had spoken in my life were:

"Connor Grant. Blood for blood. I will see this house buried."

When I returned to the Grant estate, holding what remained of my son's body, Connor was in the garden, personally planting roses for Camille.

The roses were a deep, vivid red–lush and striking.

Just moments ago, his gaze toward Camille had been gentle. But the instant he saw me, it turned to disgust.

"Sienna, look at yourself. Have the Grants fallen so far that we can't even afford to feed you? You look like a beggar.

"Don't think this will make me pity you. You couldn't even raise your child properly, always scheming, always calculating. Can't you learn something from Camille for once?"

Camille glanced at me, a trace of satisfaction in her eyes, though her voice remained soft.

"Sienna is just worried about Jamie. If I had been more careful and kept my distance, he wouldn't have run into me. She must be blaming me. Connor, please… bring him back."

Connor frowned.

"That child was being ruined by this woman. Sending him to the training facility was to correct him. This has nothing to do with you."

Then he turned to me.

"Why are you still standing here? Go clean yourself up. Don't stand here and make an eyesore of yourself."

I stood there, holding my son's body, and looked at him.

I was born with a cursed tongue. Anything I said would come true, for reasons no one could explain.

From the moment I understood it, I stopped speaking.

For over twenty years, I had not said a single word.

I used to hate this curse. But now, I only wished that whatever I said next… would come true quickly, and bring them their punishment.

My voice was hoarse from disuse.

"Connor… you're right. The Grant family is about to go bankrupt."

Connor froze, staring at me as if seeing me for the first time.

"Sienna… you can speak?"

Then his expression twisted with anger.

"So this is how deep your scheming goes. You pretended to be mute for years just to gain my sympathy. To put on this act in my house.

"Why stop now? Let me make this clear–the heir to the Grant family will only ever be Camille's child. Don't even think about it. If you so much as touch her again, I won't show you any mercy."

He turned away.

"Just looking at you disgusts me. Throw away whatever you're holding and get out of my sight."

My hands trembled.

He was already gone–yet even in death, his own father still called him filth.

I thought of the way Jamie used to look at me every night before bed.

'Mom… if I'm good, will Dad read me a story? On my birthday, will Dad take me to the park? He promised me before.'

The pain tore through me.

My voice broke.

"Connor… this isn't filth. This is your son. Jamie is dead. He died exactly as you wanted."

Connor paused for a brief moment–then let out a cold laugh.

"Sienna, so this is why you finally decided to speak? To put on a performance in front of me?

"You're even cursing your own son now. You really are something."

He snatched the body from my arms, glanced at it carelessly, and his expression turned even colder.

"If you insist that this lump of flesh is Jamie, then let the dogs decide.

"Let's see if it's human… or just something you picked up from a butcher to stage your act."

Soon, the butler led in two large black dogs. Connor tossed the bundle in his hands onto the ground in front of them.

The dogs caught the scent of blood. Excited, they dragged out the remaining limbs and began to tear into them.

I lost control and rushed forward, trying to take Jamie back–but the butler held me tightly in place.

I screamed at Connor, my voice breaking, "Connor! That's your son! He was torn apart by dogs–how can you feed him to them again? Are you even human?!"

Connor stepped in front of Camille, shielding her from the sight and the smell of blood.

He looked at me with mocking eyes.

"Sienna, you're putting on quite a show. You've really put effort into this lie. But at least try to think for once–Jamie is at the training facility, learning discipline.

"I'll bring him back in a week. No matter how much you make a scene, I won't change my mind."

I bit down so hard I tasted blood. Like a madwoman, I clawed and bit at the people holding me back–until I finally broke free and snatched back what was left of Jamie's body.

The dogs had been eating happily. Having their food taken, they bared their teeth and lunged at me.

Connor frowned and had them pulled away at once.

His patience was gone. He did not even want to look at me anymore. Supporting Camille, he turned to leave.

I stared at their backs and shouted through clenched teeth, "My child is dead. Hers won't live either!"

After Connor's older brother died, he began 'taking care' of his sister-in-law–until she ended up in his bed.

At first, he kept it hidden, doing everything he could to make sure I would not find out.

Until one day, he came home with Camille covered in injuries, looking at me with cold, unfamiliar eyes.

He slapped me hard across the face. "Sienna, I didn't expect you to be this vicious. If I hadn't arrived in time, Camille would have been violated–she could've died. She's pregnant!"

It was the first time he had ever hit me.

I had no idea what he was talking about. I tried to ask using sign language.

However, he did not have the patience to wait for me to finish.

"Stop pretending to be pitiful. I won't believe you anymore.

"If you can't tolerate Camille, I don't mind divorcing you and marrying her."

From that moment on, he stopped hiding the relationship. Even his mother could not control him.

I had thought about leaving him countless times–but I could not get custody of Jamie.

In the end… Jamie died without even a whole body left.

I held his remains and cried until I lost consciousness.

When I woke up again, Connor was dragging me by the hair into Camille's room.

Camille lay in bed, her face pale, tears in her eyes.

"Sienna… I know you don't like me. I know you think I took Connor from you. But the child was innocent. How could you be so cruel… how could you trade my child's life just so you could speak again?"

The curse had come true.

Her child was gone.

I let out a cold smile.

Connor saw it and flew into a rage. He kicked me hard in the chest. Blood surged up my throat.

"You filthy woman. I knew it–how else could you suddenly speak? You must've used some twisted method, trading her child's life for your voice!

"I've been too soft on you. You've forgotten your place. Now that her child is gone, you will pay the price!

"You want a voice? Try again in your next life!"

He picked up a bowl of medicine and grabbed my throat, forcing it toward my mouth.

I clenched my teeth shut and struggled.

He forced my jaw open. The medicine was about to pour in.

I had no strength left to resist. If I drank it… I would truly become mute this time.

Forever.

Connor… how could you be this cruel?

"Stop–stop this! What are you doing?!"

Eleanor Grant's arrival cut Connor off. I slipped from his grip and fell to the floor, coughing violently, the taste of blood filling my mouth.

She looked at the chaos in front of her and let out a long, heavy sigh before helping me up.

"Sienna… are you alright?"

I forced the words out. "I'm fine."

Her whole body stiffened.

"Sienna… you–you can speak?"

In that instant, she seemed to age more than ten years. Her legs gave way, and tears streamed down her face as she muttered, "It's over… it's all over…"

Connor frowned at her.

"Mom, what's wrong with you?"

Her voice sounded distant, worn.

"Back when the family was in crisis, your father paid a heavy price to have a reading done. It said that if you married a mute woman whose birth chart matched yours, the family's fortune would be preserved.

"But the moment she speaks… the family will fall apart."

The reading was not wrong.

It just had not foreseen that I was not truly mute–I stayed silent because my words brought misfortune.

Connor scoffed.

"That's superstition. Tricks to fool old people. Everything this family has now–we built it ourselves. What does it have to do with her?

"If she's so capable, why couldn't she even raise her own son properly?"

Eleanor hesitated.

She had doubted it too. But ever since Connor married Sienna, the family's fortunes had improved rapidly. And not long after the reading, his father had died.

Part of her believed. Part of her did not dare to.

Then she seemed to remember something.

"Where's Jamie? Why haven't I seen him?"

Connor let out a cold laugh.

"She couldn't raise him properly, so I sent him to a training facility to learn discipline."

I looked at her and spoke hoarsely.

"Jamie is dead."

Connor's patience snapped.

"How many times are you going to repeat that lie? What, are you going to say that pile of rotten flesh in the yard is him again?"

He raised his voice.

"Take that thing outside and burn it. Turn it to ash and mix it into the soil for the roses."

I watched as what remained of my son was thrown into the fire.

This time, I did not struggle.

He was already gone. That body meant nothing anymore.

Better to let it burn clean… and let him leave this world.

Maybe in his next life, he would be born into a kinder family. Live a quiet, happy life.

Eleanor looked at Connor, then at me. She did not know who to believe.

In the end, she turned and hurried out, heading for the training facility herself.

The moment she left, Camille's voice broke through her tears.

"My poor child… he didn't even get to see the world. He would've grown up to be Jamie's age… calling us Mom and Dad…

"Connor… will we still have children?"

Connor kissed her forehead, his voice soft.

"We will. Of course we will."

Then he looked at me–his gaze colder than before.

"Sienna. I let you off just now because my mother was here. But you're not getting away without paying for this.

"Since Camille lost her child… the one in your belly will take its place."

He stepped toward me.

I scrambled backward in panic until I hit the wall.

My voice trembled.

"Connor… you already killed Jamie. Are you going to kill another one of your children? He's yours too!"

Connor hesitated.

Camille saw it immediately.

"Connor… you don't have to do this for me," she said softly. "My position in this family is already awkward. My child could never compare to hers. Even if you say my child will inherit everything… no one truly believes it."

Connor's expression hardened.

"In this house, my word is law. What I say, everyone believes. Sienna isn't worth a single strand of your hair."

The hesitation vanished.

He raised his foot–and brought it down hard on my stomach.