I was nothing more than a slab of meat laid out on a butcher’s block—helpless, humiliated and left for them to do whatever they pleased. Without hesitation, they lunged at me and began yanking down my pants.

All the while, the steward stood casually by the door, leisurely blowing smoke rings, keeping watch like this was nothing more than a routine operation.

They hoisted me upside down like a sack of trash, arms and legs flailing, face flushed with humiliation. Tommy scanned the dining table, grinning like a maniac as he picked up a spoonful of red chili oil.

“Let me help you out, bro. Time for your castration!”

“AAAH!”

The spicy oil burned like liquid fire as it dripped down my thighs and into places it should never have touched. The searing pain spread through my whole body like electricity. I couldn’t stop trembling.

“Damn, look at him shake. He’s totally into it.”

“Yeah, don’t make him addicted now! What if he comes back tomorrow begging for more chili oil?”

“Well then, guess we’ll just have to satisfy him again, won’t we?”

The steward chuckled at the spectacle, then casually walked over—still smoking—and pressed the burning cigarette straight into my groin.

My nerves were already numb, my body limp. But that pain... that pain yanked a scream out of me as I spasmed violently, then went completely still.

A few seconds later, my head slammed into the ground with a dull thud. Tommy cackled and whipped out my phone, snapping photos from every angle, making sure to capture my face twisted in agony. Then he posted them. Every family group chat. Every friend group. Every social media platform I was connected to.

Then he added the caption.

[I’m a horny little mutt, begging my master to come spoil me. The older the better.]

His gang swarmed in, laughing hysterically as they passed the phone around.

“Send it to me too, bro! This is comedy gold!”

Tears streamed down my face, hot with shame and pain. I had no strength left to resist. No pride left to protect. Blood mixed with my tears—my last shred of dignity draining away.

Grandpa… Grandma… Mom… Dad… I’m sorry. I’ve disgraced the entire Wilson Family.

“Since you're so eager to sell that ass,” Tommy sneered, “this publicity should really help your business. You’ll be rich in no time. Don’t thank me.”

He doubled over, laughing so hard he nearly fell over. His dogs joined in, even starting to sing “Chrysanthemum Terrace” as if mocking my shattered pride. But in that moment—tied up, face down, powerless—I still had one last ounce of fight left. I kicked. Hard.

My foot landed square on Tommy’s shin. He lost his balance and crashed to the floor, the back of his head slamming into the ground with a nasty thud.

“You bastard!—” He clutched the back of his head, wincing in pain.

“You dare fight back?! I swear, I’ll kill you right here and now and no one will say a damn thing!”

Raging, he scrambled to his feet, grabbed a dining fork and aimed straight for my neck. He stabbed down. Blood bubbled up the moment the fork pierced the artery in my throat. But then—

“Wait! Tommy!”

The steward's voice cut through the chaos, panicked and breathless.

“She’s here! Miss Wilson just arrived—she’s asking for the Great-Grandfather!”

They froze. Because none of them realized the person she was looking for—the real great-grandfather—was the same person they were torturing and humiliating.

“Clean this mess up! Fast!” the steward barked. “You can’t ruin your good-boy image in front of her! If the old man’s unhappy, your whole dream of marrying into the Wilson Family goes up in smoke.”

Tommy’s face changed instantly. He dropped the fork like it was on fire and nodded furiously.

“Right, right! Gotta get the old man’s approval. We can deal with him later.”

The steward pointed toward the back garden.

“There’s a dog cage in the shed. Toss him in there.”

I was dragged across the courtyard like a corpse. My body screamed with every movement, but no one cared. The others rushed to clean up the blood, hide the mess. Even Oliver’s body was unceremoniously dumped in a trash bin.

A few minutes later, Sandra walked into the house with a bag of cat treats in her hand. Her eyes lit up in surprise the moment she saw Tommy.

“What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until later.”

Tommy gave her a soft, affectionate smile, voice dripping with fake tenderness. “I missed you too much. I couldn’t wait any longer. I just had to see you... and meet Great-Grandfather, of course.”

Sandra blushed, clearly eating it up. She playfully flicked his nose. “You’re still so sweet and thoughtful.”

She looked around the room, puzzled. “But... where is Great-Grandfather?”

Tommy quickly stepped forward with a teacup, kneeling in front of the main seat with exaggerated reverence.

“I’ve been waiting right here, holding this tea for him. The moment he walks in, I’ll be ready to serve him.”

Everyone stood by respectfully, playing their parts to perfection. Time passed. The sky began to darken. The mood turned tense. Sweat beaded on Tommy’s forehead. His legs trembled, numb from kneeling too long.

But the man he was waiting for—the one person who could shatter all their illusions—was just a few steps away. Locked inside a cage. Bleeding. Burned. Forgotten.

But the great-grandfather’s seat remained conspicuously empty. A servant burst in, out of breath and flustered.

“We’ve searched the entire house—he’s nowhere to be found. Could he have... gone missing?”

Sandra’s father, Robert Wilson, was drenched in sweat, his face pale with panic. “Keep searching! I don’t care if you have to dig up the whole estate—bring Great-Grandfather here!”

“Without him, my daughter’s engagement ceremony can’t continue. And forget about the family head position—it’ll all be over.”

Everyone scattered in a frenzy, like ants over a hot skillet. Seeing the chaos, Sandra hurried to help Tommy up from his knees.

“Maybe... maybe you should get up for now.”

But Tommy shook his head stubbornly, his eyes glistening with fake emotion.

“Did I do something wrong? Did I upset Great-Grandfather somehow? Then I’ll stay kneeling here until he forgives me.”

Sandra sighed and reached out to wipe his face. But her hand froze. Her fingers were covered in white fur. Her expression changed instantly. She’d raised Oliver for years. She recognized that fur in a heartbeat.

Following a trail of dark, dried blood across the floor, her eyes locked onto a nearby trash bin. Something inside her snapped. She sprinted over and overturned it with a crash. A small, headless cat corpse rolled onto the floor.

Sandra’s shoulders trembled violently. Her face twisted in horror as she dropped to the ground and scooped up Oliver’s remains.

“What the hell is this?!”

Tommy had never seen her like this—completely unhinged. His voice cracked with guilt and confusion.

“Babe, what’s wrong? It’s just—”

But before he could finish, Sandra buried her face in the cat’s bloody fur, sobbing like she’d lost her own parents. Tommy’s face went pale. He wobbled to his feet, panic creeping into his voice.

“It’s just an animal! Why are you making such a big deal out of this?”

Sandra’s head snapped up. Tears streamed down her face and her eyes blazed with fury.

“An animal?! This cat meant more to me than my own life!”

Her roar shook the room and Tommy flinched like he’d been slapped. He had no idea the cat was that important to her. Desperate, he scrambled for someone to blame—anyone but himself.

“It was my classmate! It was him!”

Tommy dropped to his knees with a dramatic thud, crying like a soap opera villain.

“I’m so sorry! He’s just some clueless idiot I went to school with. He didn’t know any better—he’s the one who hurt the cat!”

Sandra clenched her fists, her jaw so tight it creaked.

“Where is he?” she growled. “I want to kill him myself.”

Tommy thought she meant it literally—and he couldn't have been happier to throw me under the bus.

“He’s locked up in the back yard! I’ll go get him right now!”