"Dad, Mom, I'm home!"

Hugh and Marjorie, who had only just recovered from her earlier shock, immediately plastered on bright, welcoming smiles. They hurried forward, fussing over Cassandra with exaggerated concern while greeting and scraping toward Caden with servile respect.

Only Caden's gaze lingered on Victoria. His brows furrowed noticeably the moment he saw her. It seemed that he was only now learning that Victoria was Cassandra's sister.

At dinner, Cassandra and Caden were seated on one side of the long table, while Victoria sat alone directly across from them.

Throughout the meal, Victoria watched as Caden meticulously cut Cassandra's steak for her and refilled her glass, and when a dab of sauce stained Cassandra's lip, he naturally lifted a napkin to wipe it away.

Marjorie beamed at the display. "Cassie, darling, how did you and Mr. Larkson meet? Tell me all about it."

A delicate blush rose on Cassandra's cheeks. "It was at a charity gala. I saw a stray cat stuck in a tree and tried to help it down, but I slipped and almost fell myself. Caden caught me, and later, he asked for my contact."

She finished, casting an affectionate glance at Caden.

Victoria couldn't suppress a derisive snort.

Cassandra had always hated animals. As a child, she'd even tortured Victoria's cat to death. The idea of her voluntarily rescuing a cat was absurd. Either this was a carefully staged performance by Cassandra, or she'd actually rescued the cat only so she could torment it later.

Victoria's mocking laugh cut sharply through the quiet dining room. All eyes turned to her.

Cassandra's expression faltered slightly before she smiled. "What about you, Vicky? Have you had any boyfriends these years? When will you bring him home to meet us?"

Victoria's lips curved into a bright, dazzling smile. "Bring one home? Oh, I couldn't possibly."

Cassandra tilted her head, puzzled. "Why not?"

Victoria's grin widened, turning wild and unrestrained. Her gaze flicked meaningfully toward Caden before settling back on Cassandra's face. Her tone was deliberately light and teasing.

"Because there are just too many. Unlike you, who's apparently so… lacking in charm that it took you three whole years to bring home just one."

She drew out her words, like a carefree enchantress, "Just so you know, I've got suitors lined up from the front gate of the Calloway residence all the way to Beurreton in Avernia. Honestly, I couldn't possibly bring them all!"

"Victoria!" Hugh's face flushed with anger, and he slammed a hand on the table.

Marjorie seethed, her chest heaving. Cassandra looked wounded, and her eyes welled up as she turned a helpless gaze toward Caden.

Caden set down his cutlery and calmly wiped his hands with his napkin. Then, under everyone's watchful eyes, he reached over and took Cassandra's hand where it rested on the table.

"You have no need to compare your charm to anyone else's, Cassie," he said quietly, his voice steady and certain. "In my heart, no one comes close to you. You are the best—unrivaled."

The words landed like a final, irrevocable verdict, driving Victoria straight into an endless abyss.

Cassandra's tears transformed into a smile of triumph as she clasped his hand back, her face radiant with happiness and quiet triumph.

Victoria stared at their joined hands. Her heart felt as though it had been crushed in an instant—shattered so completely that she could barely maintain her mask of defiant arrogance.

After dinner, the family of four chatted merrily on the couch in the living room.

Victoria had no desire to participate in their farce of domestic bliss and retreated to the garden. The evening breeze carried the coolness of early summer, but it did nothing to ease the suffocating weight in her chest.

Not long after, Cassandra appeared in the garden as well, wearing a victor's smile, gentle yet piercing.

"Enjoying the evening breeze alone, Vicky?" Her voice was soft, but her tone held unmistakable provocation.

"To be honest, I know why you're upset. I've heard from others about what happened between you and Caden over the past three years."

Victoria, who had her back to Cassandra, stiffened almost imperceptibly, but she did not turn around.

"Truth be told, I was pretty worried when I first learned about it," Cassandra said, stepping beside her and examining Victoria's striking yet pale profile. "After all, you're such a beauty, Vicky. There'd hardly be any man who wouldn't fall for you.

"What a pity, then, to be blessed with such a pretty face for nothing. Your mother couldn't win against mine, and you can't win against me either. Those three years were nothing more than a little charity I allowed you. Now that I've returned, it's time for you, the dupe, to bow out."

Victoria turned slowly. Under the moonlight, her eyes gleamed with startling brightness—not with the rage or grief Cassandra had expected, but with pure, icy mockery.

"Charity?" Victoria's lips curved into a smile.

She enunciated each word clearly, "Cassandra, have you been abroad for so long that you've forgotten exactly who you are?

"You're just a bastard daughter who only entered this house because her mother played the mistress. A pathetic woman who has to scheme and manipulate just to hold onto a man, and you dare stand here talking about charity?

"Your mother picked up the scraps my mother discarded, and you picked up the man I discarded. You and your mother are truly cut from the same cloth—always scavenging what others leave behind."

"You!" The smile froze on Cassandra's face. Color drained from her face, then flooded back in ugly patches. She hadn't expected Victoria, already trampled into the mud, to still have such a sharp tongue.

"What about me?" Victoria took a step closer, her presence overwhelming.

"You think you've won? You've merely picked up a man I was done playing with and discarded, and you're parading him around like a treasure. Cassandra, this is truly the height of your capabilities."

Cassandra trembled with rage under the barrage of retorts, her carefully maintained mask of gentleness shattering completely.

Victoria had no interest in continuing the exchange, so she turned to leave.

But in the exact moment she turned her back, a piercing, agonized scream tore from Cassandra behind her. Cassandra had fallen, her forehead striking the edge of a stone garden bench. Blood instantly bloomed, vivid and stark.

"Cassie!"

Almost simultaneously, Caden, Hugh, and Marjorie rushed out from the living room.

Cassandra lay on the ground, clutching her bleeding forehead, her eyes welling with tears. "Dad, Mom, Caden… This isn't Vicky's fault. I slipped."

Marjorie immediately threw herself over Cassandra, wailing hysterically.

"Cassie! Oh, my precious baby! How could you be so silly? Why are you still defending her after what she's done to you?"

Hugh's expression was thunderous. He jabbed a finger at Victoria, voice shaking with rage. "Victoria Calloway! You vicious girl! What have you done to Cassie now?"

Victoria stood motionless, watching the meticulously staged scene of entrapment unfold with cold detachment. Her gaze swept past the enraged Hugh, the hypocritical Marjorie, and finally settled on Caden.

He was already crouched beside Cassandra, carefully examining the wound. When he lifted his head, those deep, unreadable eyes fixed on Victoria, and for the first time, the usual calm was gone. What remained was a piercing, bone-chilling scrutiny.

In that moment, her heart chilled to the marrow. He… He didn't believe her either. Of course. Cassandra was the one he cherished. Why would he ever take Victoria's word over hers?

A faint, bitter smile tugged at Victoria's lips. Then, without warning, she stepped forward.

Under the stunned gazes of everyone present, she reached for a heavy ceramic flowerpot nearby. She brought it down without a moment's hesitation on the exact spot on Cassandra's forehead that was already bleeding.

The dull thump from the impact was followed by Cassandra's even more agonized scream and the collective sharp intake of breath from the others.

Victoria let go, dropping the shattered remains of the pot. Her voice came out eerily calm, yet her eyes glinted like poisoned blades.

"You'd better listen up. I didn't lay a finger on her earlier. But this time? This one's all me."

Everyone was stunned into silence, Caden included.

Victoria shook the remaining fragments from her hand and turned to walk away. But before she could take two steps, a bone-crushing force clamped around her wrist. Pain shot up her arm.

Caden held her in a vice-like grip, his expression dark and stormy. When he looked at Hugh, his voice came out ice cold.

"Mr. Calloway, I won't overlook such behavior from your daughter. I'm afraid I must insist you teach her a proper lesson."

Hugh, torn between his distress for Cassandra and his fear of Caden's influence, hurriedly agreed and scraped. "Don't you worry, Mr. Larkson! I will most certainly discipline this insolent, ignorant daughter of mine!"

He immediately barked at the bodyguards who had hurried over, "Grab her! Take her to the family memorial hall and lock her up in there!"

"How dare you!" Victoria struggled, glaring fiercely at Hugh.

But Hugh looked to Caden, his tone fawning. "Mr. Larkson, what do you think? I'll lock her in the memorial hall to reflect on her actions. Is that punishment sufficient?"

Caden scooped up the still-bleeding Cassandra in his arms. His gaze swept over Victoria with glacial indifference, and his thin lips parted to utter words of breathtaking cruelty.

"That's too lenient. I noticed the riding crop hanging in the study. It didn't seem to be merely for decoration."

With that, he strode away without a backward glance, holding Cassandra close.

Victoria stood as if struck by lightning, staring in disbelief at his retreating figure.

Had he… Had he just suggested that Hugh use a riding crop on her?

Hugh immediately grasped Caden's meaning and barked at the bodyguards, "Don't you hear him? Give her 30 lashes! Then, lock her in the family memorial hall! She doesn't come out until I say so!"

"Let go of me! You're not my father, Hugh! You're an animal!" Victoria fought with all her strength, but the bodyguards held her fast.

She was dragged into a side room. Marjorie stood there, gripping the sturdy riding crop, her face alight with vindictive glee.

"You ungrateful little bitch! You're just like your dead mother, always thinking you're above everyone else! I'll teach you a lesson on behalf of your father today!" Then, she raised the whip high and brought it down with savage force.

The first crack across Victoria's back sent white-hot agony exploding through her body. Her vision blacked out for a heartbeat, and she bit down on her lip to keep from screaming. The lashes rained down relentlessly, one after another.

Marjorie seemed to be channeling years of pent-up hatred into every swing. Each lash landed more brutally than the last, as if she intended to flay the skin from Victoria's body.

Agony wracked Victoria's body, twisting it into involuntary spasms. Cold sweat soaked through her clothes. As her consciousness began to fray, a memory surfaced.

Caden had asked with a frown when he learned of her strained relationship with Marjorie, "Do you need me to deal with her?"

She remembered nights when grief drove her to slip out alone to Eunice's grave in the pouring rain, and how he had somehow found her in the pouring rain, wordlessly wrapping her in his coat and driving her home. She remembered those fleeting moments she had mistaken for genuine concern.

Back then, had he ever imagined that one day, he would be the one to personally condemn her to this living hell?

A cough rattled in her chest, and the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. Yet, a low, ragged laugh escaped her lips.

The sound chilled Marjorie's blood, fueling her rage. "What are you laughing at, you wretch?"

Victoria lifted her face, which was streaked with sweat and blood. Her eyes, fierce as a wolf's, locked onto Marjorie. Each word came out slow and deliberate. "I'm laughing at you and your daughter, destined to live off other people's scraps your whole miserable lives!"

"You—"

Marjorie trembled with fury and threw the crop aside. She turned and snarled at a maid, "Get me the stun baton! Now!"

"No, Mrs. Calloway! You mustn't! You'll kill Ms. Victoria!" an elderly maid, Edith Baker, cried out, unable to stay silent.

"Get out of my way! Who are you to speak?" Marjorie shoved Edith aside, snatched the stun baton from a bodyguard's hand, and swung it down viciously on Victoria.

Victoria shrieked as a searing jolt of electricity and a brutal impact tore through her. She heard the sickening crack of her own ribs giving way. A gush of blood escaped her mouth. Then, everything went black.

…

When consciousness returned, Victoria found herself lying on her own bed. Every inch of her body felt as though it had been run over by a truck.

Edith was quietly applying salve to her wounds, brushing away the tears streaming down her face as she whispered, "Ms. Victoria, just yield to Mr. Calloway. Why put yourself through such suffering?"

Victoria shook her head weakly, her voice a ragged whisper. "Yield? Yielding to this family will only get me devoured, bones and all."

She paused, forcing a smile that looked more painful than tears. "It's just a beating. And I gave Cassandra a cracked skull, too. It wasn't a bad trade. I… can take it."

Then, with great effort, she retrieved a bank card from beneath her pillow and pressed it into Edith's hand. "Ms. Baker, I want you to have this."

Edith recoiled in shock and hastily refused, "No, Ms. Victoria! I couldn't possibly! How can I take your money?"

But Victoria answered in a resolute tone, "Take it. I've… had this ready for quite some time now. I'm leaving the country and probably never coming back.

"You came with my mother from the Monroe family, so they won't treat you well here. This money… It's enough for you to live out your years in peace. Listen to me, resign and leave this place."

Edith looked at the card in her hand, then at the young woman who still thought of her even in her battered, broken state. Tears spilled freely, and she fell to her knees with a thud.

Victoria quickly stopped her, her voice frail yet carrying a hint of something almost childlike. "You know what, Ms. Baker? I'm actually craving your pumpkin soup."

"Yes, Ms. Victoria. I'll go make some for you right now. It'll be quick!" Edith hastily wiped her tears and hurried to the kitchen.

The room fell silent again. Victoria gazed up at the ornate but frigid ceiling and slowly closed her eyes, letting despair and sorrow swallow her whole.

In the days that followed, Victoria remained in her room to recover. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she slowly packed all her belongings. She also gathered every single gift Caden had ever given her.

He might not have loved her, but he had been generous. The total value of these items approached a hundred million dollars. She had considered simply throwing them away, but then she changed her mind and contacted the owner of a high-end club she frequented.

Hearing the club was hosting charity auctions recently, she called and mentioned she had plenty of items to contribute.

She received a swift reply informing her that there was an event that very evening, and she was welcome to attend.

That evening, Victoria arrived at the club with several large boxes. After handing everything over to the auction coordinator, she turned and, in a stroke of bad luck, saw Caden and Cassandra walking in together.

Cassandra leaned into Caden, and when her eyes met Victoria's, a flash of triumph and provocation lit within them.

Victoria's nails dug into her palms instinctively, then quickly relaxed. She had business here tonight. There was no need to waste her energy on them.

Caden's gaze seemed to linger for a fraction of a second on her unnaturally pale face before shifting away indifferently.

She had just taken her seat when the lights dimmed. The host took the stage and announced excitedly that before the auction began, there would be a three-minute "kiss for charity" segment for all the couples present to enjoy.

Victoria froze.

Roving spotlights swept through the darkened venue, illuminating couples locked in kisses and embraces.

She turned instinctively and caught sight of them.

Not far away, Cassandra wound her arms around Caden's neck with a sweet smile. He looked down at her, the corner of his mouth lifting in the faintest possible curve. Then, he bent down and kissed her.

In that instant, Victoria's heart felt like it was seized by an invisible, crushing grip. Memories flooded her mind uncontrollably. Memories of every passionate, possessive, desire-fueled kiss that she shared with Caden. Yet, none had ever held this quality of tender reverence.

Just then, a drunken scion from a wealthy family stumbled over. "You must be feeling lonely sitting here all by yourself, Ms. Calloway. Here, I'll accompany you…"