Serena's POV

The three minions standing beside Nadine shot me glares that could’ve burned through steel.

“Do you even know where you are?” one of them sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. “This is the Prescott family—the wealthiest, most influential name around. And you? A poor country bumpkin—what makes you think you belong here?”

Another one scoffed. “Good god, look at what she’s wearing! She’s here to seduce Francis and ruin the engagement on purpose.”

“That’s right!” the third added, scoffing. “She even dares to call Nadine's fiancé a ‘good boy.’ Francis is the future head of the Prescotts. Who does she think she is?”

I gritted my teeth and shot back, “You don't know the half of what you're saying. I call him ‘good boy’ to flatter him. He laughs in his sleep every night because of it.”

Francis had always gone out of his way to earn my approval. Whenever I was pleased, I’d kiss his forehead, treating him like a younger brother. He was so overjoyed by it that he couldn’t help but post the moment online for everyone to see.

Naturally, Nadine twisted everything and claimed I was trying to seduce him.

The next two years? A never-ending cycle of bullying.

They ruined my homework, stuffed dead rats into my desk drawer, and spilled red ink all over my chair.

And the rumors?

They went all out, claiming I was seducing middle-aged teachers, even spreading the story that I took time off from school for an abortion.

For two years, my reputation had been dragged through the mud. I reported them to the police repeatedly, but the school just had Nadine apologize and sweep everything under the rug. I never expected her to get bolder, but now, she was bringing her violence straight to my door.

At that moment, I added, "I’m Francis’s fiancée…”

But before I could finish, Nadine grabbed the soup pot in front of me and splashed it over my head.

"Ahh, Nadine!" I cried out in pain.

The scalding soup seared my scalp, sizzling like it was on fire. My skin felt like it was being cooked, and my hair shriveled from the heat.

Before I could even process the agony, Nadine grabbed my ponytail, yanked my head down, and slammed it into the table. My vision blurred, and a sharp, cold shock of pain exploded through my skull.

"Just what you deserve, you slut! Stop getting close to Francis!" Nadine shouted, her voice dripping with venom.

Each time my face collided with the table, the force sent the room spinning. The impact felt like a thunderclap in my head, disorienting me, making it almost impossible to focus. Blood filled my mouth, mingling with the rising bubbles in my throat. The metallic taste was nauseating, and I gasped for air, my chest heaving.

The pain was unbearable, and I screamed, struggling to breathe. "Ahh, stop it! You're hurting me!"

My voice came out strained, weak, but I couldn't stop myself. I was fighting for air, fighting for just a moment of relief, but all I got was another harsh blow to the table.

Nadine’s cruel laugh echoed in my ears. “Look at her! She’s probably loving this. Bet she’s just as easy when she serves men, huh?”

The more she stewed over it, the angrier she got. I could see the malice building in her eyes as she ordered her friends to hold me down, their hands pinning my arms to the table with a suffocating grip.

“Since you dared sneak a bite, I’ll break your hands,” she sneered.

I screamed in horror, my voice trembling. "Nadine, you wouldn’t dare!"

The moment the words left my mouth, she seized the soup pot and brought it crashing down onto my hands. The strikes hit with bone-shattering force, and a searing pain shot through my fingers.

I was immobilized, helpless as the pot pummeled my hands, twisting them at unnatural angles. All I could do was watch in agony as my hands bent and contorted beyond recognition.

Then, out of nowhere, my cat, Buttercup, who had been growling fiercely, leapt at Nadine.

In a flash, it scratched her hand, drawing blood.

“Ugh, you filthy little beast!” Nadine screamed, kicking Buttercup with all her strength. The poor thing flew across the room, tumbling away from me.

“Buttercup!” I cried, panic surging in my chest.

Seeing her focus shift for just a moment, I summoned every ounce of strength I had left. Ignoring the pain coursing through me, I forced myself to push up, positioning myself in front of Buttercup to shield him.

“Don’t you touch my pet!” I shouted, my voice hoarse. “If Francis finds out, he won’t let you get away with this!”

Buttercup wasn’t just a pet. He held deep meaning for my family. He was a gift from my grandfather, and his presence carried more significance than anyone could understand. The previous head of the family had been ousted from the elders' elite four council simply for stepping on Buttercup’s tail.

I couldn’t let Nadine hurt him.

I furrowed my brow, the memories flooding back of how Francis always went above and beyond to please me. He’d walk Buttercup, clean up after him, even when he had diarrhea. He’d do anything just to gain my approval.

One of Nadine’s minions stepped forward, recognition dawning on their face.

“Wait a minute. That’s the famous Prescott cat, right? I’ve seen it in the news before. It looks exactly like this one," she asked.

I thought for a moment that they might back off.

But no, Nadine’s anger only deepened. “A filthy loser dares to threaten me? There are plenty of animals that look alike. Your cat is just as disgusting as you are.”

She exchanged a look with the others, her eyes gleaming with malice, before continuing, “Even if it is the Prescott cat, you really think Francis is going to care about a cat? Let alone blame me?”

A smirk spread across her face, one that made my blood run cold.

"No! Not Buttercup!" I screamed, panic rising in my chest.

But Nadine ignored my plea, her expression turning cruel. With one eyebrow raised, she said, “Alright, then. Kill the damn thing! I’ll take full responsibility.”

Her minions closed in on me, and before I could even react, I was stomped on by several feet. My face hit the ground with a sickening thud, the pressure distorting it beyond recognition, and I could barely breathe, let alone scream.

Serena's POV

I watched in horror as Nadine lifted her heel, a ten-centimeter "sky-high," and aimed it straight at Buttercup. The twisted glee on her face sent a chill down my spine. I knew exactly what she was about to do, and at that moment, it felt like everything around me was falling apart.

"Don’t! Buttercup!" I screamed, my voice trembling with desperation.

But the words barely left my mouth before the heel came crashing down, aiming to stomp the life out of my cat.

Nadine's grin twisted into something more vicious. "You bitch, once I’m done with the pests, I’ll deal with the big one."

Without wasting another second, she slipped off her heels. Before I could even blink, she slapped me hard across the face. The sound of her hand meeting my cheek rang in my ears as she counted off each strike, her voice dripping with venom.

"One... two... three..." she taunted, her laughter echoing in my skull. "Look at her! Her face is so swollen, she looks like a pig's head."

Then, with a cruel, smug smile, she added, 'How about we give you another round of punches, just for good measure?"

Her minions jumped in, eager to join the fun, slapping me harder with each blow.

My lips grew so swollen I couldn’t even feel them anymore. My teeth felt loose, slipping from my gums, as blood mixed with the bitter taste of my pain.

My head spun, my world tilted sideways, and the high-pitched ringing in my ears drowned out everything else. Every inch of me was on fire, but somehow, I forced myself to speak, struggling to get the words out between pained gasps.

"I’m the Grandmatriarch, and you’re treating me like this? The Prescotts won’t let you leave here alive," I managed to whisper, barely audible through my swollen lips.

Nadine threw her head back, laughing maniacally. "Hah! Just because your last name’s Prescott, you think you’re some big deal? Well, guess what? I’m the true heir of the Prescotts now! I’ll tear you apart, you little rat!"

When I thought I couldn’t sink any lower, a voice rang out, cutting through the madness.

"Who’s making all this noise?"

Everything froze.

I turned my head, my eyes filled with a flicker of hope, and saw the Prescotts' butler, Atticus Jones, step into the room. He walked in with the easy confidence of someone used to wealth and power, dignified and unyielding in his bearing.

Right then, a sliver of hope sparked in my chest.

"Atticus, it’s me, Serena," I said, almost pleading.

Unsure, Nadine's minions hesitated and let me go.

"Could she be really the Grandmatriarch of the Prescotts?" one of them muttered, doubt creeping into their voice.

Atticus sized me up, then sneered without missing a beat. "Where did this filthy beggar come from? I don’t know her."

He shot a glance at Nadine's friends, dismissing me immediately. "You didn’t think this through, did you? Madam Prescott, the Grandmatriarch, is what? Eighty, ninety years old? And now this girl, she’s just a kid, claims to be the great-grandmother of the Prescotts. You actually believe her?"

My heart sank, crashing down on me like a ton of bricks. I had desperately hoped this would be my way out, but now that sliver of hope vanished, and I felt the weight of defeat sink in.

Nadine, sensing her chance, acted fast. She covered her mouth with mock surprise and affectionately linked her arm with Atticus.

"See? My dad's smart," she purred, her voice dripping with sugary sweetness.

That’s when it hit me like a ton of bricks. Nadine wasn’t just this bold, arrogant brat. It was all borrowed power. She had Atticus in her pocket.

Nadine wasn’t the one calling the shots. He was.

A searing anger bubbled up inside me. I locked eyes with Atticus, fury boiling in my veins, and barely held back from spitting in his face.

"How could you let a stranger onto the Prescotts' property without permission from me? You’ve got some nerve, Atticus!" I sneered.

Before I could get another word out, Nadine slapped me again, hard, knocking out a couple more teeth.

"I am the lady of the Prescotts," she sneered. "If I want to come in, I’ll come in. No one’s stopping me." She paused, her lips curling into a cold smile. "Shut your filthy mouth," she said, her voice sharp as ice.

Without warning, several of her minions held me down while Nadine grabbed a roll of tape and sealed my mouth shut, wrapping it tightly until it was hard to breathe.

But that wasn’t all.

Nadine’s eyes caught sight of my phone, which had slipped from my grasp and landed on the floor. She picked it up without hesitation, unlocked it effortlessly with my fingerprint, and began scrolling through my photos.

Her eyes narrowed in fury as she scrolled through, her expression darkening with every swipe.

"How dare you secretly edit your photos with Francis!" she barked in disbelief. "I don’t even have intimate photos like that with him! Are you that desperate for a man?"

Her fingers scurried, and then her eyes froze on something else. "Oh, and here’s a family photo of the Prescotts. You had the nerve to include yourself right in the middle, pretending to be some high-society lady! How many other disgusting things have you been editing behind everyone’s back? I’m gonna make you regret it, you pathetic slut!"

With their eyes gleaming with amusement, Nadine's minions whispered and snickered among themselves. I could feel their gaze burning into me, as though I were nothing more than prey.

Without another word, they lunged at me, ripping my clothes off my body.

I struggled, but it was useless.

My clothes were shredded like paper, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. Standing by the door, Atticus puffed out smoke rings like he was watching some petty little show.

He didn’t even flinch.

Then, they hoisted me into the air, holding me upside down like a rag doll.

My body was helpless against their strength, and I was nothing but a powerless, broken thing in their hands.

"Help! Help me..."

Serena's POV

Nadine’s eyes twinkled with a gleam of mischief as she scanned the dishes on the table. With a devilish smile curling at the corners of her lips, she scooped up a spoonful of Habanero hot sauce.

"Let me give you a little sterilization treatment," she said, her voice oozing with mock sweetness.

Before I could even think of reacting, she poured the scalding hot sauce down my thigh. The fire spread like wildfire through my skin, the pain hitting me so hard I couldn’t even breathe.

My whole body went rigid, and I screamed out in agony. "No! No, it hurts!"

I couldn’t hold back the tears welling up as I trembled uncontrollably from the pain.

One of the minions snickered, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. "She must be loving this."

Another one joined in, their laughter ringing sharp and mocking. "Don’t get her hooked on this, or she’ll be coming back for more hot sauce every day."

Nadine stood over me, clearly enjoying every second of my suffering. She turned to her father, and without a word, Atticus reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and pressed it against my skin.

The fresh pain was almost unbearable. My body went into shock, convulsing, and before I could process anything, my head hung low, too heavy to lift, as if all the life had been sucked out of me.

Still grinning, Nadine picked up my phone. She snapped a few pictures of me lying there, broken, in my misery.

Without hesitation, she posted them to every family group and social media account she could access. No platform was left untouched.

The caption was disgusting, as repulsive as the photos themselves: [I'm desperate for attention, begging for someone to come and spoil me.]

The photos spread like wildfire, going viral in minutes. Before long, people were begging Nadine for copies.

I lay there, utterly helpless. I couldn’t move or speak as tears of blood ran down my face with the last shred of dignity I had left.

'Grandpa, Grandma, Mom, Dad—I'm so sorry. I’ve ruined the Prescott name. I’m so sorry for what I’ve become,' I cried inwardly.

Nadine’s laughter rang through my head. 'You wanna sell yourself so badly? Once everyone sees these, they’ll beg to help you with your little business. You’ll make a fortune. No need to thank me, bitch!'

With my hands bound behind me, I lay there on the floor, utterly defeated.

But at that moment, something inside me snapped. I gathered every bit of strength I had left and kicked Nadine’s high heel with all my might.

She lost her balance and crashed to the ground with a loud thud. Her head hit the floor hard, and for a split second, I felt a flicker of victory.

"How dare you kick me?!" Nadine screamed, clutching her head, her face contorting in pain. "Even if I kill you today, no one will give a damn!"

She scrambled to her feet, fury burning in her eyes. She grabbed a fork off the table and, with a deadly glint in her gaze, aimed it straight at my neck, targeting the carotid artery.

I could feel the cold steel pressing against my skin. I knew what was coming.

Just as the fork was about to draw blood, Atticus's voice rang out, panicked. "Bad news. Sir Francis is here. He says he’s coming to see the Madam!"

Everything froze. I barely had time to process what was happening. I could see the look of shock on their faces, the realization dawning on them.

They had no idea the Grandmatriarch they were waiting for was already lying on the floor in front of them, barely conscious and utterly broken.

"Quick, clean up! We can’t let them see us like this!" Atticus snapped, his voice urgent. "If Madam Prescott finds out, our shot at getting into high society will be shot."

Nadine snapped back to reality, her fingers trembling as she dropped the fork.

She nodded quickly, clearly in full damage-control mode. "Yes, yes. Getting the Grandmatriarch’s approval is all that matters. We’ll deal with this bitch later, after we handle the main business."

Atticus moved with quick precision, pointing toward the backyard. "There’s a dog cage in the storage room. Lock her up there."

The minions dragged me outside while the others scrambled to clean up the mess.

In that brief, fleeting moment, I caught sight of Buttercup’s lifeless body, discarded without a second thought into the trash can, and my heart shattered.

...

Third Person's POV

Francis stepped in moments later, holding a cat treat in his hand.

He stopped when he noticed Nadine, an eyebrow raised, clearly surprised.

"What are you doing here? Didn’t I say I’d come pick you up?" he asked, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

Nadine twirled a lock of her hair around her finger, her voice sweet as she played the part of the innocent, loving girlfriend.

"Well, I just missed you so much. I couldn’t wait to see you and the Grandmatriarch," she said with a flirtatious grin.

Francis, clearly charmed, rubbed her nose affectionately.

"You... you’re still so thoughtful," he said, his voice soft, warm. Then, his gaze swept across the room, confusion flashing across his face. "Anyway, where is she? Why hasn’t she arrived yet?"

Nadine, now desperate to keep his attention away from the truth, grabbed a cup of tea and knelt before the empty seat at the table. “I’ll wait here. Once she gets here, she can have some tea."

The room fell silent, everyone standing still, their eyes trained on the empty chair. We all waited, but the Grandmatriarch never came.

As the evening dragged on, the tension in the room thickened. Sweat beaded on Nadine’s forehead, and her legs trembled from exhaustion.

Yet, the seat for the Grandmatriarch remained empty.

Suddenly, a servant rushed in, panic evident in his face. "We’ve searched the entire house, but we can’t find the Madam. Could she be missing?"

Francis’s father, James, turned pale, his face sweating. "Keep looking! Dig three feet into the ground if you have to—find her and bring her here!" His voice was frantic, his eyes wide with fear.

“If she’s not here, my son’s engagement party is over. The family head position is done for!” James snapped, his voice trembling with fear.

Panic broke out as everyone scrambled to fix the mess, completely unaware that the one they were looking for was locked in the backyard, barely holding on.