Here, the humiliation and cold indifference felt endless. I was no longer the cherished little princess held lovingly in everyone’s hands. A fallen heiress, a mistress kept in the shadows—I wasn’t worthy of any of it anymore.

Under their stunned gazes, I threw the remaining belongings into the trash.

Everything in this house, along with the memories of old affections—I wanted none of it.

"Lauren, what kind of tantrum are you throwing now? You’ve already ruined this home!"

My brother’s face was livid, but he fell silent when he noticed the photo album lying in the trash.

He had always been a perfectionist. Now, he bent down, picked up the album and carefully wiped it clean.

His tone softened, "I know the family’s situation has been hard on you, but you can’t take it out on Fiona. She’s the one who gave the Hartley Family a lifeline. She’s our benefactor."

"These are just material things. If they’re gone, I’ll buy you new ones when we have money again. But this album isn’t something to throw away out of spite."

He placed the cleaned album in my hands. That thin book chronicled the story of the three of us. From the day I was born to my first words. From playing house to our official engagement. The three of us had grown closer with time, almost becoming a real family.

But love, when too deep, becomes fragile. Too much of anything leads to destruction.

That little bit of difference was the gap that pushed us into becoming strangers to the path of never seeing each other again.

After they left, I lit the photo album on fire. Years of memories and feelings were reduced to ashes.

In the flickering flames, my phone vibrated. It was a message from Davian reminding me that our agreement’s deadline was approaching.

Attached was a link to an article with the headline:

[Sinclair Family Heir Spends Millions on a Pink Diamond Necklace for His Future Mistress.]

In the accompanying interview, Davian exuded arrogance, his expression utterly self-assured.

"If the Hartley Family is willing to offer their daughter as my mistress, the least I can do is treat her well."

The news had gone viral, sparking outrage online. But strangely, I felt calm.

I woke up early on the third day, hoping to say goodbye to my family. I saw Fiona crying in Noah’s arms when I entered the living room.

"I don’t mind suffering but can’t let the Hartley Family’s reputation be dragged down. Besides, I already have someone I love in my heart. Once I’ve helped the Hartley Family through this crisis, I’ll prove my resolve with my life!"

My brother and Noah rushed to comfort her. One swore his undying love; the other vowed to confront Davian head-on.

I didn’t interrupt. Instead, I quietly sat down and began knitting a scarf.

Davian had presented me with such a “gift.” It was only fair that I prepared something in return.

Noah shot me an annoyed glance.

"Lauren, you have time to knit a scarf? Have you seen how the internet is tearing Fiona apart? She’s an innocent girl—how is she supposed to bear this kind of humiliation?"

Fiona was "innocent."

The Hartley and Radford families were proud of each other.

That’s why he cared about the Hartley Family’s future and reputation and cared about Fiona’s well-being. But no one cared about me.

Seeing I didn’t respond, my brother grabbed the yarn from my hands. The thread scraped against my healing wound, reopening it. Blood seeped out, staining the white yarn red.

The scarf I had worked on through sleepless nights was ruined.

Tears I had suppressed for so long finally spilled over. I looked up at them, my voice trembling.

"If I were the one going to the Sinclair Family, would you be reacting like this?"

"What are you even talking about? Stop being jealous! Don’t think that knitting a scarf will make us forgive you for what you’ve done to Fiona. You—"

Their voices froze mid-sentence.

Both men stared at the scarf in my hands, their expressions shifting the moment they noticed the single character stitched into it: [Davian]

"This scarf isn’t for us?" my brother spat, his voice rising. "Lauren, what’s the meaning of this? Are you deliberately humiliating Fiona?"

"Will you ever grow up?" Noah’s tone was laced with contempt. "You’re always picking fights and causing trouble. You’re useless!"

They were the ones who had once sworn to spoil me like a princess. Now, they were the same ones who belittled me, accusing me of being immature and incapable.

It was their failed investments that caused the downfall of the Hartley and Radford families. It was their pity for Fiona and their inability to confront Davian that left us powerless. Yet, somehow, all the blame landed on me.

It was as if my mere existence after Fiona's arrival had become a mistake.

Fine. If I were nothing but a burden, I would leave.

Leave forever and never come back.

I turned toward the stairs, my heart heavy with determination. But before I could take another step, Fiona appeared, her face twisted in smug triumph.

"Lauren, 'cause you’re the eldest daughter of the Hartley Family? Soon, everything you have will belong to me!"

Her voice dropped into a mocking whisper, but suddenly, she screamed and threw herself down the stairs. The commotion brought Noah and my brother racing to her side. They didn’t even hesitate, dropping to their knees to shield her fragile body from further harm. Fiona leaned weakly into their arms, her tears flowing like a tragic heroine’s.

"I tripped— it was my fault, not my sister’s," she whimpered, her voice trembling with false innocence. "Please don’t blame her. She didn’t push me— I swear. But if you weren’t here, who knows what might’ve happened?"

Noah turned his disbelieving eyes on me, his face twisted with disgust.

"Lauren, is ruining Fiona’s happiness not enough for you? Now you want her life, too? How can you be so vicious!"

My brother’s face darkened as he approached me. Before I could react, his foot lashed out and I was sent tumbling down the stairs. Pain erupted as my head struck the sharp edge of a marble step, warm blood trickling down my face. My body felt broken, every movement a fresh agony.

I saw Noah walking towards me. Desperate, I extended a trembling hand toward him, silently pleading for help. But instead, he grabbed me by the hair, dragging me across the floor like a piece of garbage.

Their faces were cold, devoid of any trace of love or compassion.

"A vicious woman like you doesn't deserve to remain in the Hartley Family," Noah said, his voice emotionless. "From now on, Fiona is the only daughter of this house. I only recognize her as my sister."

"And the Radford family has no place for you either," he continued, his tone sharp as a blade. "Our engagement is nullified. Lauren, take care of yourself."

With a deafening slam, the door closed behind me.

I was in pain and couldn't move; I could only lie in the doorway and beg bitterly.

"I don’t want anything," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Just— call an ambulance and I’ll leave forever. I swear you’ll never see me again."

In the end, I did not wait for their help but waited for the pouring. The downpour soaked the wilting jasmine in the courtyard, washing away its blossoms alongside my pride.

Before I passed out, I only heard them say:

"Don’t let anyone help her. Let the rain wash away her filthy soul!"

As darkness crept in, I listened to their laughter inside, warm and carefree.

***

When I awoke, the sterile white walls of a hospital greeted me. I was alone. Only the relentless chiming of my phone filled the silence.

Notifications flooded my screen: endless receipts from my emptied bank account. The account my father had left as my dowry is now drained.

The final blow came in the form of photos sent by Fiona. She stood grinning between my brother and Noah, surrounded by stacks of gift boxes from their shopping spree. Even my mother, who once prided herself on keeping her hands clean of menial tasks, cooked soup for Fiona to cheer her up.

One of the captions read:

[So this is what it's like to be the Hartley Family's only young lady. I wonder what it’ll be like to be Mrs. Radford someday?]

Numb. That was all I felt. My heart had ached so profoundly it had gone numb, incapable of stirring any emotion.

At that moment, Davian abruptly snatched the phone from my hands. His expression was unreadable.

"Lauren Hartley," he said coldly, "it’s past midnight. The agreement is in effect now."

His voice dropped, leaving no room for negotiation.

"From this moment on, you’re mine."

I nodded and got into Davian’s car.

At the same time, a significant sum of money, accompanied by a severance agreement, was delivered to the Hartley Family.

The Hartley Family’s two decades of pampering had fetched me a decent price. With that money, they could weather their crisis. And I could sever ties with them completely. From now on, we would neither meet nor remember each other.