4

The moment Dapper entered the bedroom, he leapt onto the bed and seized Jada from behind, locking her tightly in his arms. Before she could even react, his hands were already roaming all over her body.

He clicked his tongue. “You and your sister… You really do have quite the figures. One better than the other,” he sneered, his hand already reaching toward her chest.

“You bastard! What do you think you’re doing?!”

The sound of his voice stunned Jada for a heartbeat. Then panic crashed over her, and she began thrashing desperately in his grip. But no matter how she struggled, she couldn’t shake him off. Dapper’s strength was simply overwhelming.

“What am I doing?” he murmured with a low, mocking laugh against her ear. “Nothing much. I just want to taste the difference between you and your sister.”

With a sudden yank, he ripped her nightgown wide open.

The rush of cold air against her bare skin made fear and fury explode inside her chest. In that instant, her terror reached its peak.

Summoning all her strength, she kicked backward, her foot landing squarely on Dapper’s crotch.

He let out a howl of agony, doubling over with both hands clutching himself. Seizing the chance, Jada scrambled off the bed and bolted for the door.

“You filthy bitch! You dare kick me?!” he roared, writhing on the bed.

But when he saw her racing out of the room, he grit his teeth against the pain and staggered after her.

With Dapper chasing close behind, Jada’s panic mounted. Cornered, with nowhere else to go, she darted into the kitchen. She snatched up the first thing within reach—a kitchen knife—and swung it at him.

“Ahhh!”

His scream tore through the villa, drawing Kenton and Daisybelle out from another bedroom.

“What’s going on here?”

Kenton flicked on the light. His gaze swept over the chaos in the kitchen, his brows knitting tightly together.

“Kenton…” Dapper’s face betrayed a flicker of panic at the sight of him. But the moment his eyes caught Daisybelle standing just behind, his panic vanished without a trace.

“Kenton, there was thunder. My sister’s always been afraid of storms, so I came to check on her,” he explained smoothly.

With a quick sidelong glance at Jada—still clutching the knife—he went on, “But as soon as I walked in, I heard noises coming from the kitchen. I thought maybe a thief had broken in, so I came to take a look. Who knew… the moment Jada saw me, she tore her own nightgown and came at me with a knife!”

“Dapper! Your hand! It’s bleeding so much!” Daisybelle’s gasp broke in before Kenton could respond.

She hurried to his side, her expression soft with heartbreak as she looked at the gash on his arm. Tears slipped down her cheeks without her even realizing.

“Jada… is this true?”

Kenton’s voice was cold, his brows drawn tight. When he turned to Jada, his eyes were like ice.

The sound of his voice made Jada falter, her grip on the knife loosening slightly. But then her gaze fell on his half-open collar, the faint red marks along his neck. Her heart trembled violently.

‘So this is what Daisybelle means by being “afraid of thunder,’ Jada realized.

“Kenton…” she whispered hoarsely. “If I said it wasn’t true, would you believe me?”

The question only made his frown deepen. His eyes swept over the wreckage of the kitchen, but before he could answer, Daisybelle’s voice cut in.

“Jada, yes, Dapper was in the wrong. But we’ve already apologized. We even drank with you. Why won’t you let this go?” Her voice broke into sobs as she dropped to her knees, clutching Dapper’s arm. “He’s my only brother. Do you mean to hound him to death before you’re satisfied?”

“Fine… if that’s what it takes, then as his sister, I’ll atone for Dapper’s sins!”

With that, she suddenly lunged forward, seizing Jada’s hand and driving the knife toward her own chest.

“Daisybelle, what are you doing?!”

Kenton rushed forward, yanking her away. In the struggle, the blade sliced across her palm.

Blood gushed freely, running down her hand in crimson streams. Kenton’s face twisted with anguish as he scooped her into his arms.

At the kitchen doorway, he paused. He didn’t turn back, but his voice was colder than frost.

“I only believe what I see.”

Then, without another glance, he strode out of the villa carrying Daisybelle in his arms.

Behind them, Dapper lingered just a step behind, both he and Daisybelle exchanging a single glance. The triumph gleaming in their eyes was impossible to hide.

5

Kenton carried Daisybelle away, leaving the kitchen in suffocating silence.

Staring at the doorway where his figure had long since disappeared, Jada finally collapsed to the floor, feeling utterly drained.

Tears streamed down her cheeks—tears for Jodie and for herself.

Her mind drifted back to the past, to when Kenton had once placed her hand against his chest, his voice both devout and tender.

“Jada, in this lifetime, I will only ever believe in you.”

It turned out, this was what his so-called belief amounted to—cheap, fragile, worthless.

She scrubbed her tears away with trembling hands, stood up, and stumbled back to the bedroom.

The next time she woke, it was to the shrill ringing of her phone.

Still groggy, Jada answered. A rushed, anxious voice came from the other end.

“Hello, is this Jada McNamee? Please, you need to come to the cemetery right away. Someone claiming to be your friend is trying to take your sister’s ashes.”

The words hadn’t even fully landed when Jada shot upright in bed.

In her mind, the image of Daisybelle’s eyes from last night—when Kenton carried her away—flashed vividly.

A sharp pang struck Jada’s chest.

She didn’t have time to think. Throwing on her clothes in a hurry, she rushed out the door and made straight for the cemetery.

The moment she reached the gates, she caught sight of Daisybelle and Dapper walking out from inside.

And in Dapper’s hands—was Jodie’s urn.

“Stop!”

Jada lunged forward, trying to snatch it back. But Dapper simply stepped back, dodging her reach, and she grabbed at nothing.

“Daisybelle, give my sister back to me!” Jada’s eyes were bloodshot, her voice trembling with fury as it nearly spilled over.

“Give her back? Of course.” Daisybelle took the urn from Dapper, her lips curling into a cruel, twisted smile. “As long as you apologize and beg for our forgiveness, I’ll return your sister to you.”

“What did you just say?” Jada’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“You hurt both of us,” Daisybelle said, her grin deepening. “Don’t you think you owe us an apology?”

Her gaze hardened, sharp with cruelty.

“What’s wrong? You’re not willing?”

Even as she spoke, she shot Dapper a meaningful glance.

Catching her signal, Dapper gave a knowing nod, then pulled out an iron rod from who-knows-where. He began advancing toward Jada, step by step.

“You—what are you trying to do?”

The instant her eyes fell on the iron rod, Jada’s face went deathly pale.

She staggered backward, but Dapper only closed in closer.

“What do you think?” he sneered, his voice laced with menace. His eyes gleamed with feral malice.

“Jada, aren’t you the capable one? Weren’t you going to drag me into court? Weren’t you going to cut me down yourself?”

With each mocking word, he pressed her further into a deserted corner.

Watching her wide eyes brimming with terror, his laughter deepened.

“Truth is, you made me quite happy last night. If not for that, I wouldn’t even be bothering today. But…” His grin turned vicious. “It’s a pity. You and your sister are both the same kind of cheap whores.”

With a mocking sigh, he shook his head as though in regret. Then, raising the iron rod high, he swung it down hard—straight at her knee.

“Ah—!”

A piercing scream tore through the cemetery as pain ripped through Jada’s body. Her knees buckled under the blow, forcing her to collapse heavily onto the ground.

Watching her writhe in agony, Daisybelle stepped forward, her high heels clicking sharply against the stone path.

She ground her heel into the back of Jada’s hand—the hand that still tried to support her trembling body. Her voice dripped with venom and long-nursed resentment.

“Sure, Jada, you’re beautiful. Yes, you’ve always outshone me in grades. But it was me who met Kenton first. It was me who loved him first. So tell me—why was it you who married him in the end? Why you?”

Her voice grew more frenzied with each word, her heel pressing down harder and harder.

The searing pain in both her knee and hand left Jada drenched in cold sweat. Her clothes clung to her body, soaked through.

She forced her trembling gaze up to meet Daisybelle’s twisted, hate-filled expression.

Her voice shook violently, but she managed to choke out, “Now… give Jodie back to me!”

“Back to you? Sure.”

Daisybelle sneered, raising the urn high in her hands.

“I’ll return her to you right now.”

And with that, she hurled the urn down with all her strength—shattering it to the ground before Jada’s eyes.

6

“No…”

Jada’s eyes widened as she watched the urn arc through the air like a falling star. Instinct made her reach out to catch it, but her weak and powerless legs refused to obey.

She could only watch in horror as Jodie’s ashes scattered across the ground, spilling like sand. A stabbing pain tore through Jada’s chest, as if knives had been driven straight into her heart.

“Oh dear, my hand slipped.”

Daisybelle gave an exaggerated shrug, her tone light, almost mocking. Her gaze swept over Jada, who was crawling helplessly on the ground, her movements frantic and pitiful.

“Daisybelle! You did that on purpose! I’ll kill you! I swear, I’ll kill you!”

Jada’s voice cracked as her eyes turned bloodshot, fixed on the ashes littering the floor.

She clawed desperately at the ground, trying to drag herself forward.

But no matter how hard she struggled, her body remained pinned beneath Daisybelle’s foot, the crushing weight locking her in place.

“Kill me?” Daisybelle laughed, the sound sharp and cold. “With what? With you?”

Then she lifted her foot and kicked, the heel striking Jada squarely in the face.

“Jada, it was with this face that you seduced Kenton, wasn’t it?” Her eyes gleamed with cruel amusement. “I wonder… if your face were ruined, would he still look at you the same way?”

Another kick landed, then another. Blow after blow crashed against Jada’s face.

Jada curled into herself, arms wrapped around her head, lips pressed tight against the pain.

Still, she dragged her body inch by inch, crawling toward the scattered ashes of Jodie.

“Pathetic. Even now, you’re still thinking of your dead sister.”

Watching her, Daisybelle sneered. She pulled a bottle of water from her bag, uncapped it, and tilted it slowly forward. Clear liquid poured out, spilling over the ashes.

“No!”

Jada’s scream ripped from her throat as water soaked into the ashes, mixing them into dark clumps of mud. Her voice trembled with despair, breaking apart.

Daisybelle threw back her head and laughed, a wild and unrestrained sound. “You brought all of this on yourself, bitch!”

Satisfied, she glanced once more at Jada—her face swollen beyond recognition, her body covered in dust and blood.

Then Daisybelle tossed aside the empty bottle, clapped her hands clean, and walked away arm-in-arm with Dapper.

Jada’s vision blurred as she stared after their retreating figures.

Summoning the last shred of her strength, she crawled forward, dragging her body to where the ashes lay.

She scooped the sodden mixture of mud and bone into her arms, clutching it tightly against her chest. Blood from her broken face mingled with the ashes, streaking her trembling hands.

She sobbed until her body gave out, her tears mixing with the dirt. She remembered nothing after that.

When her eyes fluttered open again, she was lying on a hospital bed.

“You’re awake at last.”

A nurse bustled over, relief softening her features. After a quick examination, she finally exhaled.

“Thank goodness the funeral staff found you in time. A few minutes later, and you might not have survived.”

She tucked Jada’s blanket carefully before leaving the ward.

Not long after, the door burst open. Kenton appeared, his expression tight with panic.

“Jada! Are you all right?”

He strode quickly to her bedside, his brow furrowing as he took in her battered face and fragile state.

“How did you let yourself end up like this?”

His hand lifted, as if to touch her cheek, but before his fingers could make contact, Daisybelle rushed forward and seized his wrist.

“It’s all my fault!” Daisybelle’s voice trembled, her eyes red-rimmed with unshed tears.

“If Jada wanted to hit me, I should’ve let her. If I had just stood there and taken it, she would’ve vented her anger, and none of this would’ve happened. But why did I have to resist? It’s my fault… If I hadn’t fought back, she wouldn’t have fallen down the stairs, she wouldn’t be in the hospital. I’m the one to blame. Kenton, hit me, please! Hit me to vent for her!”

She grabbed his hand and pressed it against her own face.

Kenton immediately pulled back, alarm flickering across his features. “No, Daisybelle, how could this be your fault? You’re a victim, too. You only defended yourself. How could you have known it would push Jada down the stairs? Don’t torment yourself. This isn’t on you.”

He gently brushed the tears from the corners of her eyes, his touch tender. Then, without hesitation, he drew her into his arms.

“But—”

“No buts,” he murmured, patting her back comfortingly. “You have me here. That’s all that matters.”

He glanced at Jada, his eyes narrowing. “Jada, this has gone on long enough. Daisybelle has already apologized. You should stop making trouble over this.”

His gaze swept the ward before settling back on her. “Stay here and rest. Daisybelle is shaken, too. I need to comfort her.”

Without sparing Jada another look, he wrapped an arm around Daisybelle and guided her toward the door.

At the threshold, he suddenly halted. His voice came low and cold, without turning back.

“Jada, I was the one who forged the testimony. It had nothing to do with Daisybelle. If you still have anger left, direct it at me. Stop targeting her.

“And another thing—your sister never came back. She’s gone. You’d do well to remind her not to cling to every little grievance. Going forward, you’ll need to get along with Daisybelle and Dapper.”

With that, he walked out, his arm still holding Daisybelle close.

Jada stared after them, but no tears came. Her eyes were dry, hollow.

‘Jodie’s never coming back. She’s truly gone…’ she wanted to tell him.

At that moment, her phone vibrated weakly in her hand. With effort, she lifted it.

On the screen was a video.

The footage from the night of her sister’s assault. Every second of Jodie’s futile struggle had been recorded. Along with it came the very evidence Dapper had sworn to have destroyed—now restored, intact, and in Jada’s possession.

And attached to it was a plane ticket. Departure: the next day. Destination: Italy.

Her hand trembled violently as she watched her sister’s suffering unfold on screen.

‘This time,’ she swore to herself, ‘Dapper—that son of a bitch—will pay and never get away with it for all eternity!’