After My Fiancé Filmed My Assault, I Ruined His Family

On the day of my engagement, my adopted sister, Hunter, stormed in, tearfully claiming she had been attacked.

The next day, I was ambushed by a gang of thugs in an alley. The embarrassing photos spread like wildfire on social media. I rushed home in tears, hoping my family would help, but they all just laughed.

"Did you seriously think anyone would care about you?" they mocked. "We just hired someone to pretend, as a prank."

I stood there, feeling as if I'd been dropped into an icy abyss.

---

Bruised and wearing a tattered Victorian-style dress, I had dark marks encircling my wrists and blood stains on my thighs. My brother, Nixon, glanced at me with a smirk.

"What's wrong? Reliving the fun? Did you enjoy it?" he taunted.

My sister, Hunter, took a sip of coffee with a grin. "Brother, don't say that about Ellie. She had the thrill of being fought over, right?"

My parents looked at me with contempt. "Pathetic, clinging to memories like that," they said.

I couldn’t grasp why they blamed me for something so appalling. Tears streamed down my face.

"You’re crying over just a few words. Such a bother," my mother, Angelina, scoffed. "Go wash Hunter’s clothes. You've been out all day without anyone doing it."

They went into the dining room to enjoy their meal, leaving me in my sorry state.

I mechanically went to the bathroom to start washing clothes. In this household, I was no better than a servant. Each time I tried to stand up for myself, my parents' resentment deepened.

My mother had always been obsessed with appearances. She disliked me from the start because I looked ordinary. When I was ten, she adopted Hunter from a foster home—a budding beauty who resembled her.

Initially, my father, Rayden, and Nixon cared for me, but gradually, their affections shifted to Hunter. Even my childhood friend and fiancé, Nixon, fell for her.

I was invisible at home until Hunter falsely accused me of pushing her into a pond, which led to her catching a cold. My mother, without a word, broke my finger and locked me in the storage room. From that day, I became Hunter’s personal maid.

I gazed at my misshapen fingers, a result of untreated injuries. At least I would marry into the Nelson family in a month. Even though Nixon’s love for me had faded, it was better than remaining here.

After washing the clothes, I returned to the living room. The dining table was littered with greasy leftovers, making me queasy. My stomach growled for relief; even scraps would help. But when I lifted the pot lid, it was spotless, like someone had polished it clean.

I hesitated, then heard snickers from the dining area. Hunter lounged on the sofa, her legs crossed, and her pet dog, Cocoa, scarfing down pulled pork from its bowl.

She looked up, feigning remorse. "Oh, sorry, Ellie. I thought you’d already eaten, so I fed it all to Cocoa..."

Nixon reclined in his chair, speaking nonchalantly, "What’s the difference? Who cares who eats it?"

Hunter burst into laughter.

A wave of anger rushed over me. I kicked the dog's bowl, scattering pulled pork everywhere, some landing on Hunter’s new pants.

She shrieked dramatically. "Ah! My new clothes!"

The next moment, a stinging slap hit my face. I stumbled back, looking up at my fiancé, Nixon, whose face was distorted with rage.

"Apologize!" he demanded, colder than I’d ever seen.

"Ellie, being engaged doesn’t mean you can mistreat Hunter. Remember, she’s the one I truly love."

My heart sank. Years of buried grievances erupted. "Do you even know what they’ve done to me? Do you understand what Hunter has done? They hired people to shame me!"

Nixon frowned, dismissing it. "It’s not like they actually hurt you."

"I paid them so they wouldn’t genuinely harm you."

"And really, with your looks, do you think anyone would want to attack you?"

His blatant disdain pierced me like a thorn in my heart. When I was younger, he reassured me when my mother criticized my appearance, saying worth wasn’t only about looks, that I was a star. Yet now, Nixon was unrecognizable. Trembling, I asked, nearly broken, "Were you involved?"

Nixon was indifferent. "Of course, I even filmed the whole thing. It was quite the show."

"If you weren’t engaged to me, Hunter wouldn’t have been upset and gotten into trouble."

"This is what you owe her," Nixon concluded.

Hunter’s eyes lit up. "Is there really a video? Show me!"