On our wedding day, Carter Hall's father took his own life in our new home. He left a suicide note, blaming me for his death. From that day forward, Carter despised me to the core. He said, "Lindsey Thomson, you deserve to rot in hell, atoning for your sins for the rest of your life."

Eventually, just as he wished, I wandered the streets, mute and half-insane, living a life worse than a stray dog. But then, he regretted it.

Someone snapped a picture of me, filthy and rummaging through a dumpster for plastic bottles, and posted it online. It quickly went viral, sparking a storm of comments.

“The prettiest dumpster diver.”

“Hey, quiet little one, the netizens seem to be really interested in you.”

I took small bites of a bagel, listening quietly as Marcus Dale read the comments aloud.

He pushed his hair back and continued reading from his phone.

“Isn’t she Lindsey Thomson, the eldest daughter of the Thomson family?”

“I’ve got the photos as evidence—it’s definitely her. She’s the one who obsessed over Carter Hall and even caused his father’s death!”

At this, Marcus fell silent. My entire body went rigid, and I almost dropped the bagel. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the enlarged photo on his screen.

The woman was smiling brightly, while the man beside her looked indifferent. It was a picture from our wedding day.

It had been three years since I last heard that name. The flutter in my heart had long since been replaced by fear. My first instinct was to run.

“Don’t worry, quiet little one. I’ll protect you. Soon, I’ll take you far away from here.”

Marcus noticed my reaction. He didn’t ask me anything; he just comforted me gently.

For three years, I had been homeless, scorned by everyone. Only Marcus was willing to approach me, to help me. He often said these words to me. Though I'm not smart, I understood in my heart that this time, he truly couldn't help me.

I returned to my rundown shack, gathered up the recyclables I had collected, and prepared to sell them before disappearing. But no matter how quickly I moved, I was still too late.

As I dragged the bag to the door, a cold, male voice cut through the air.

“Lindsey Thomson, where do you think you’re going?”

In the sweltering summer sun, a chill ran down my spine. Even after three years of not hearing it, I recognized that voice instantly.

My palms turned clammy, clutching the bag tightly as my heart pounded against my chest. The terror I had buried deep inside surged back, overwhelming me.

Footsteps echoed on the ground as he approached me, closer and closer.

Finally, unable to stand, I collapsed, curling up on the ground, my body trembling uncontrollably.

Carter Hall.

He still wasn’t willing to let me go.

......

For the past decade, I had loved Carter desperately. But he had hated me just as intensely.

Our engagement had been arranged by our grandfathers.

Unfortunately, he already had someone else in his heart and was completely against the marriage.

But I was oblivious to all of this.

As the only daughter of the Thomson family, I was spoiled beyond measure.

I tried to force him to accept my affections with sheer stubbornness.

That year, when the Hall family business ran into trouble, my father provided funding and forced Carter to marry me.

I was too naive.

I truly believed our marriage was meant to be, that if I was good to him, he would be good to me in return.

But I was wrong. No matter how I treated him, you can't force someone to love. However, this was just the spark that ignited his hatred.

His loathing for me escalated on our wedding day.

His father committed suicide in our marital home, leaving behind a note blaming me for his death.

Our wedding turned into a funeral, and Carter seemed to become a different person overnight.

I tried to explain, to deny any involvement.

He just smiled and took my hand.

In front of others, he acted normally, treating me well.

But at home, he exploded with rage.

He would often grab me by the throat and say, "Lindsey Thomson, you deserve to rot in hell, atoning for your sins for the rest of your life."

Later, things indeed unfolded as he had wished.

He poured all his efforts into seizing the Thomson family's assets.

He sent my father to prison and subjected me to endless humiliation.

Then one day, I found myself cornered in an alley.

Terrified, I dialed his number. I screamed for help, only to be met with his cold response:

"Lindsey, what game are you playing now? If you want to die, do it far away from me."

So, I disappeared from his sight, struggling desperately in the mud and filth, living a life worse than that of a stray dog.

I never thought he would come looking for me after all.

......

"Lindsey, what's happened to you?" He seemed startled by my reaction.

In a few strides, he embraced me, not caring that I might soil his expensive suit.

People heard the commotion and gathered around to watch, some even kindly advising him, "Sir, you'd better stay away from this mute. She's not quite right in the head."

"Mute? Not right in the head?" he asked incredulously.

“Yes, she’s been around here for years, always acting like this.”

I trembled even more violently.

Carter hesitated no longer.

He scooped me up and carried me to his car.

I stared in terror, my body rigid, not daring to struggle. He dropped me onto the back seat.

A foul odor gradually filled the car. I pressed myself against the door, too ashamed to lift my head.

The dampness of my pants made me even more frightened.

In the past, Carter had never allowed me to touch his things.

Now, I had dirtied both his clothes and his car.

He must be furious.

I was terrified of his negative emotions.

This time, however, Carter said nothing. He simply started the car in silence.

He took me to the hospital for a series of tests. The initial diagnosis was a stress-related disorder.

Holding the report, he sighed deeply. "Lindsey, what on earth have you been through all these years?"

I remained silent and uncooperative. With no other option, he had to take me home. But for me now, that luxurious villa was no longer home; it was a cold prison.

—

The villa he brought me to was our wedding gift from my father. It was also where Carter's father had taken his own life.

Overwhelming fear gripped me like a giant hand around my throat. It felt as if it could kill me at any moment.

Carter looked at me with a complex expression, hatred barely concealed in his eyes. "Lindsey, don't think this is enough to atone for your sins. It's not nearly enough."

He put his work on hold to personally attend to my daily needs.

Everything here remained unchanged.

The only thing that had changed was Carter's attitude toward me.

A skilled hunter never stoops to attacking weak prey. I understood in my heart that his patience with me was only temporary, just like before.

His kindness always came at a price.

But now, I couldn't afford to pay that price.

My nerves were constantly on edge, never daring to relax. I was afraid to eat, even to sleep in the bed—because his father had died in this very room.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the image of his father lying in a pool of blood.

Carter didn't try to persuade me. He simply repeated the routine of bringing and removing meals each day.

After several days, I finally couldn't bear it anymore. My vision kept blurring, and I felt nauseous from hunger and exhaustion.

At last, supporting myself on weak limbs, I devoured the food ravenously.

Perhaps it had been too long since I'd eaten such delicious food. I ate too quickly, choking several times.

After eating my fill, I curled up on the floor and slept.

When Carter came in again, he saw the empty plates I had licked clean. He sneered, “I knew it. Someone like you would never starve yourself to death.”

I huddled in the corner, hugging my knees to my chest, head bowed in silence.

In the days that followed, the person bringing meals changed to a housekeeper, and Carter stopped appearing altogether.

However, Amy Jefferson came to visit.

I had seen her a few times before and knew she was the adopted daughter of the Hall family.

She was also the true love Carter kept in his heart.

Her features were delicate, and her big, watery eyes evoked sympathy in anyone who saw her.

She carried herself with the poise of the lady of the house, walking up to me in high heels.

Her black dress accentuated her graceful figure.

"I heard you were wandering outside for three years and became both mute and simple-minded," she said.

"Carter hates you so much. Your life won't be easy if you stay here. If you want to leave, I can help you."

I looked up, trembling, catching the fleeting mockery in her eyes. Her lips curved into a smile, and her gaze softened gradually.

I desperately wanted to leave.

Afraid of missing this only lifeline, I eagerly agreed.

She made me swap clothes with her and put on sunglasses.

She even kindly reminded me again, "This is the only way to get past the security at the gate. Once you’re out, my driver will take you wherever you want to go."

I was so nervous that I kept swallowing, nodding repeatedly.

All I could think of was the joy of escaping this prison.

I never expected that by the time I came back to my senses, I’d already been taken to a party.

Very soon, people began to recognize me.

“Well, isn’t this the heiress of the Thomson family? What brings you down here?”

“Heiress? Haven’t you seen the trending news? She’s just a beggar now.”

“I thought so. The high-and-mighty Lindsey Thomson wouldn’t come to our little party unless she was here to scavenge for trash.”

“Hahaha…”

I used to be arrogant; under my father’s protection, I never learned how to get along with people. Because of that, I had offended many. Now, my downfall had become their joke.

Amid the jeering laughter, I clutched the hem of my dress nervously, constantly glancing toward the exit.

A flash of white entered my line of sight. Amy’s forehead was bruised, and she looked disheveled. I didn’t have time to think; I rushed over to grab her arm, begging her to take me away from here.

Her gaze fell behind me, and suddenly, she started crying out loudly.

“Lindsey, I know you hate me. It’s okay if you knocked me out and stole my clothes, but can you please go back first? Don’t embarrass Carter, okay?”

“Lindsey Thomson!”

Before I could react, someone yanked me away forcefully. I stumbled a few steps and hit the corner of a table. Along with the shattering sound of wine glasses, I fell heavily to the ground.

Glass shards were deeply embedded in my palm. Enduring the searing pain, I looked up, meeting a pair of eyes filled with rage. I shook my head frantically, trying to say it wasn’t like that.

But the contempt and disdain in the room told me no one believed me.

Not even Carter.

He picked up Amy, speaking to me word by word: “Don’t test my patience again.”

Of course.

His bottom line had always been Amy.

......

I was brought back to the villa, waiting in despair for the inevitable retribution.

Hours later, Carter returned. He stared at the untouched food, his breathing growing heavier as he struggled to contain his anger.

I wanted to cry out of fear, but I dared not.

In the past, as the pampered daughter of the Thomson family, I had been willful and prone to tantrums.

Crying was my favorite way to express my emotions.

But Carter would always push me aside in irritation, saying, "Lindsey, your tears disgust me."

So, to avoid repulsing him, I had learned to hold back my tears ever since.

Carter lowered himself, crouching before me. The faint scent of tobacco lingered in the air around us.

He gripped my chin, forcing me to look directly at him. His handsome features were furrowed, his expression cold and rigid.