When I returned to my rightful place in the wealthy Snyder family, it was my first encounter with Crew Bradley. After he saved me from a dangerous situation, I fell for him, trailing after him with unreturned affection for five years, until he finally became my fiancé. Yet, he always seemed to disapprove of me, criticizing my lack of refinement and poise.

When my grandfather, who had raised me with all his love, fell gravely ill, I desperately needed Crew's support. Instead, he decided it was an opportunity for me to learn a hard lesson, thinking it would make me wiser. My grandfather passed away, alone and powerless, and as Crew hoped, I learned my lesson. But I also stopped loving him.

When I was left at the roadside in the city, I became the laughingstock of high society. The truth of my situation spread quickly: the real daughter of the Snyder family, punished by her parents for clashing with the impostor daughter, stormed out in anger after having her accounts frozen. Outwardly defiant, but secretly drowning in debt, I was brutalized when I failed to repay a loan shark.

The news spread among them, and they gathered where I had been thrown out, openly recording my disgrace on their phones. I didn't respond with screams, desperate to maintain some dignity. My pride had already been worn away by those loan sharks, bit by bit.

No longer was I the proud and headstrong Elisabeth Snyder, always stirring trouble and demanding justice. The Snyder family, along with Crew, had shattered that pride with merciless precision.

Suddenly, a few sleek sedans arrived, scattering the onlookers. The lead car, though understated, indicated the presence of someone significant—I knew Crew Bradley was inside.

I glanced at the car, pursed my lips, and turned to walk away. The car door opened, and a man in a suit approached me quickly. He looked surprised for a moment when he saw my face and attire.

I knew I was a mess. I was still wearing the black Victorian-style dress from my grandfather’s funeral, stained and dirty. The bruises on my exposed right hand were from the loan sharks’ kicks. My left hand was adorned with a grimy glove that didn’t match, and I was barefoot, my toes red and swollen from being slammed against a step.

The man looked down, perhaps with a touch of sympathy, and spoke politely.

"Miss Snyder, Mr. Bradley is waiting for you."

I kept my head lowered, not looking at the assistant, and replied in a muted voice, "No, thank you. I can walk myself."

With that, I moved past him. The assistant was taken aback.

For five years, I had seen Crew as my savior, trailing behind him even when he ignored me. I would always find an excuse to be near him. But now, I saw him as a threat, and this transformation undoubtedly surprised the assistant, who was accustomed to my relentless pursuit.

"Elisabeth!"

His deep, steady voice made me pause instinctively. The assistant noticed my slightly red eyes. He hesitated, then gestured for me to enter the car.

Dragging my weary steps, I ignored the assistant's tentative gaze and slowly got into the car.

Crew was inside. He didn’t express concern for my disheveled state but instead frowned deeply, his tone displeased. "Haven't seen you for half a month, and you've become a vagrant?"

His mockery didn’t sting as it once did, nor did the fact that he failed to notice my injuries make me feel despondent. With my head hung low, I whispered an apology.

"I'm sorry."

But I didn’t intend to end up like this. I hadn’t wanted to be scammed into taking a loan, to be battered by those ruthless lenders, to be forced to humiliate myself or treated like an animal. And most of all, I didn’t want my grandfather's grave to be disturbed.

His hand paused for a moment, and he glanced at me, his tone unexpectedly appreciative. "Kaliyah's method seems to have worked; you do seem more obedient than before…"

Before being reclaimed by the Snyder family, Kaliyah had taken my place, living the life meant for me. I had been living with my grandfather, who was related to Kaliyah by blood. Her father died in an accident, and after dropping me off with my grandfather, her mother had disappeared.

I didn’t have much time to ponder why he brought up Kaliyah, as Crew gestured towards me as if summoning a pet.

"Come here."

I sat as far away from Crew as possible, not having looked at him since getting into the car, focusing instead on the floor mats. When I heard his command, resistance filled my eyes, and I remained motionless.

He noticed my lack of response and spoke more sternly. "I said come here."

I stayed silent, my back straight as a rod in a futile attempt to salvage my tattered dignity, even though I knew it had vanished when I had begged for mercy.

Without my reply, a silence filled the car. Perhaps Crew was unaccustomed to this atmosphere, or maybe impatience got the better of him. He reached out, leaning towards me.

As his hand drew close, I tensed, unable to escape, trapped by the car window. When his hand grasped my arm, the scent of alcohol hit me.

That smell triggered a flood of memories. Out of anger for having my bank cards taken away, I’d returned to my grandfather's house only to find him gravely ill. Penniless, I called my parents, but no one answered.

Then some wealthy kids from another city mockingly said, "I hear Miss Snyder could use some cash."

"Why don't you bow for us? Maybe then we'd be in the mood to lend you some."

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my grandfather lying in bed, coughing violently, sometimes coughing up blood.

So, without hesitation, I knelt before them in the packed club. The only sound was my head hitting the floor. I did it so hard, my forehead hasn't healed even now.

In the end, they threw three bills at me with a laugh and said as they left, "Mr. Bradley said your love's only worth this much."

That was how I ended up ensnared in a high-interest loan, unable to afford timely medical care for my grandfather, who eventually died.

After his funeral, with the loan due, I called Crew for help. He answered with a scoff before hanging up.

These memories made me breathless, and with Crew's hand on my arm, I felt a shiver as if a snake had coiled around me, inducing waves of nausea. Dizzy and sick to my stomach, I wrenched free, bending over to dry heave, clutching the front seat with my gloved hand.

I hadn’t eaten much lately, so there was nothing to throw up. Nevertheless, Crew covered his nose with a tissue, his eyes brimming with disdain as he sternly called out to me.

"Elisabeth!"

Ignoring him, I continued until the urge to vomit subsided. I knew him well enough to see, by the bulging vein on his forehead, that he was on the verge of anger.

But I didn't resort to my usual tactics of coaxing and cajoling to diffuse the situation. I had no leverage anymore.

My body trembled from weakness, my head bowed, gripping the seat in front of me tightly.

"I'm sorry... I'll clean it up."

"I can ride in one of the other cars. I'm sorry for messing up your car."

Crew paused, shooting me a skeptical look.

We stayed locked in silence until he suddenly reached out to feel my forehead. Watching his hand approach, I froze in place. I knew better than to pull away; Crew would get angry, and in the past, his anger was my greatest fear.

Whenever he got angry, he'd belittle me until I was both humiliated and heartbroken.

I remained tense in my seat, repeating to myself not to flinch.

But when his fingers brushed my skin, that crawling, nauseating sensation surged up again, and I reflexively jerked my head away from his touch.

His hand hovered awkwardly, halted mid-air. His gaze held a mixture of anger and impatience when he looked at me.

Dizziness returned, and with a shake of my head, Crew's face vanished, replaced by the image of my grandfather in a hospital bed with tubes all around him.

I vividly recalled being unable to secure the funds for his treatment, resulting in the hospital ceasing care. I knelt at his bedside, my crying a wretched, ugly sound.

Despite the difficulty speaking, my grandfather still managed a wan smile. "Are they treating you well?" he asked.

Sobbing, despite knowing my parents favored Kaliyah, despite her hostility, despite Crew’s disdain, I choked out, "Yes, they're good to me."

He reached out, perhaps to stroke my hair. "Our little girl is finally loved," he murmured.

Before I could move closer for him to touch my hair, he closed his eyes forever.

I blinked, and a solitary tear fell.

Crew Bradley swallowed the sharp words poised on his tongue, opting instead to glance over at me with an unreadable expression. The tension between us was palpable, and his icy command to the driver to speed up echoed in the car's confined space.

I quickly wiped my tears with the back of my hand and huddled into a corner of the seat, striving to become invisible. Outside, the scenery blurred past the window, and my thoughts churned chaotically.

Had Crew intervened, would my grandfather have been spared? Could I have escaped the grasp of a loan shark and this entire ordeal? But life offered no "what ifs."

The car jerked to a stop, and the sudden motion made my forehead tap against the seat back, disturbing the healing scabs. Crew gave me an inadvertent look.

“What happened to your forehead?” he asked.

I covered the spot with my hand, remaining silent and shaking my head. He didn’t press for details, stepping out and heading purposefully toward the Snyder estate, leaving me behind.

Once inside, I hurried upstairs to take a shower. Stripping off my clothes, I removed the glove from my left hand. There were no visible injuries, but my little finger was bent at an odd angle.

I had done this intentionally, breaking it in front of the loan sharks, only then did they laugh and let me eat. My aim was clear: this broken bone would always remind me to be cautious.

After changing into a long Victorian-style dress that concealed every inch, I slipped the glove back on and descended the stairs.

Dinner was served, and my mother spotted me immediately, a mix of disbelief and mild reproach on her face as she gestured for me to join.

“Where have you been all these days without even a call?”

I opened my mouth to respond, emotion rising, but was cut off before I could utter a word.

“Mom, do I look nice?” Kaliyah flitted down the stairs like a butterfly, wearing a Victorian dress I’d never seen before.

Mom's focus shifted instantly, her eyes leaving me to admire Kaliyah. “Stunning,” she praised.

Kaliyah smirked at me, her lips curling playfully. “Elisabeth, why are you all covered up today?”

With her words, everyone turned their gaze towards me. Meeting Kaliyah’s mocking eyes, my heart thudded painfully. Instead of retorting, I swallowed my pride to speak, but Kaliyah looped her arm through Mom’s, her laughter light.

“I got a dress for Elisabeth too, you know.”

Mom nodded approvingly, and Kaliyah turned back to me with mischief in her eyes.

“How about it, Elisabeth? Want to change into it?”

I pressed my lips together, thinking of the bruises hidden beneath my dress, and shook my head. “No, thank you.”

Kaliyah feigned disappointment, her smile waning. “Well, all right then.”

Crew’s expression soured, a silent warning in his gaze, but he held his temper in check, mindful of our surroundings.

Mom eyed my ankle-length dress, her brow furrowing slightly in disapproval. “Kaliyah means well.”

Kaliyah’s features shifted into a picture of hurt innocence, a brittle smile on her lips. “It’s okay, Mom. Elisabeth has every right to dislike me.”

Instead of challenging Mom or exposing Kaliyah’s insincere act, I paused briefly before offering a noncommittal response. “Thanks, Kaliyah.”

Mom was startled by my tone, while Crew seemed surprised, a flicker of what might be approval in his eyes.

At dinner, Mom piled pulled pork and dinner rolls onto my plate. Contrary to my usual defiance, I accepted with lowered eyes, murmuring quiet thanks. She nearly checked my temperature, only to find me fine, sighing with cautious relief as she returned a credit card to me, the one she’d previously confiscated.

“Elisabeth, we were worried sick when you left. We won’t hold you back anymore. Here's your card; your dad added some money.”

I clutched the card before letting it slip away. It felt like too little, too late.

Across the table, Kaliyah gripped her fork tightly, her eyes drilling into me until our gazes locked, then she swapped her scowl for a syrupy smile. “Crew, you haven’t given Elisabeth her Thanksgiving present.”

Leaning towards Crew, the necklace at her collarbone caught the light and my attention. It was the same one from the auction, where Crew promised it as my reward for good behavior. Yet there it was, adorning Kaliyah's neck.

Crew glanced at me, explaining, “It suits Kaliyah better, so…”

So he’d given it to her.

I lowered my eyes and murmured, “It’s okay, Crew. Whatever you think.”

No need for explanations. I knew he couldn’t stand me.

After cleaning up, I rose and said, “I’m done. Have a good meal, Crew, Mom.”

Predictably, Crew’s expression was one of surprise, tinted with satisfaction.

On the second-floor landing, I crossed paths with Crew. He was leaning against the wall, flicking a lighter. As he saw me, exhaling a smoky ring, I paused. This time, I didn’t rush toward him. He raised an eyebrow, seemingly uncomfortable yet oddly satisfied.

“Elisabeth, you’ve learned your lesson.”

Crew pocketed the lighter, stepping closer. The smoke swirled around us, and I instinctively recoiled, making him halt.

“About that necklace for Kaliyah, I can give you something else, as a reward for behaving.” He suggested.

Perhaps expecting me to ask for something extravagant, he added, “It has to be jewelry or something small. Don’t expect anything grand.”

I lifted my head to study his face, looking for remnants of who he used to be.

The first time I met Crew was at a lavish party several years ago, where other socialites ridiculed me. Back then, I lived with my grandfather in a small town, and he was my only companion. He didn’t get the fashion trends among young women, and since my tuition had drained most of his savings, I never asked for anything extra. I wore the colorful but budget-friendly clothes he bought me with gratitude.

Grandfather didn’t quite get why jeans were so popular; sometimes, he even sewed clothes for me himself, insisting that bright colors were best for lively girls.

When the Snyder family took me back in, my fashion sense hadn’t quite caught up, and I felt awkwardly out of place.

Mom sent Kaliyah to guide me, but she was elusive, leaving me to figure things out on my own. That led to the ridicule.

Back then, I was insecure and didn’t know how to stand up for myself. It was Crew who dispersed them, his words sharp enough to nearly bring them to tears.

He spoke to me sincerely then.

“Why are you so shy? Don’t be scared. If someone bullies you, bully them back. Hit them if you have to.”

“What if they’re afraid of me and don’t want to be my friend?” I asked.

“Do you want to be bullied, or would you rather they’re too scared to mess with you? Who cares if you have no friends? I’ll be your friend.”

I held onto those words for more than five years, but eventually, Crew publicly denounced me, calling me a bully.

But they were the ones who started it.

The sharp angles of Crew’s face no longer showed the kindness and protectiveness of those early days. All that remained was disdain and impatience. He stood over me, urging.

“Have you thought about it? Don’t be greedy.”

With my hands clasped behind my back, I used my good right hand to rub the deformed pinky of my left, the dull ache a constant reminder of what I endured because of him.

In my desperation, I had blurted out my identity, even sobbing Crew’s number to the loan sharks—a number I'd memorized—only to be shattered by his response.

“I don’t know any Elisabeth Snyder. The Snyder family’s daughter is Kaliyah Knight.”

Not only that, he riled up the lenders, provoking their wrath, which they then unleashed on me. They forced me to slap my own face until it was swollen beyond recognition, pain shooting even into my gums.

Eating became an ordeal; even dinner rolls were too hard. They stomped on them, filthy and dark, and shoved them into my mouth.

The memory alone made my stomach churn again.

Suppressing the urge to retch, I pressed hard on my dislocated pinky to stay grounded.

“Sorry, I don’t want anything.”

Crew’s brow furrowed, suspicion sharpening his gaze, laced with a silent warning.

“Don’t come back to me later, causing trouble. I don’t have the patience for that.”

I nodded faintly, eager for him to leave. “I won’t.”

He didn’t push further—maybe he never intended to give me anything anyway.

“Make sure you don’t.”

He walked away but paused, his back turned to me, voice heavy.

“That necklace was meant for Kaliyah. Don’t go bullying her again.”

Before I could respond, he was gone, striding decisively away.