The phone was completely smashed. No matter how fast Julian moved, he couldn’t just drop from the sky.

Besides, the company was in the middle of acquiring new energy firms. He’d have to finish the handover before he could come and get me.

I had to save myself. I couldn’t let that bitch win!

In a panic, my hand fumbled across the nightstand and grabbed the lamp. Without a second thought, I hurled it at the window.

Glass shattered everywhere. As the homeless man froze in shock, I seized the moment and scrambled to climb out.

Shards sliced my skin open,

but before I could make it through, the two men recovered, yanked my legs, and flung me back onto the bed.

Blood poured down my legs. I ignored the pain and instinctively reached down—my hand landed on a jagged piece of glass lodged in my flesh.

I yanked it free and drove it straight into one man’s neck.

“Ahh!”

He screamed as blood sprayed across the face of the other.

“Come any closer and I’ll stab you too!” I screamed, face covered in blood, holding the glass shard like a wild, cornered animal.

“Open the door! Open it now! Open up!” the second man shrieked in panic, pounding on the door before finally kicking it open.

“I—I’m not doing this anymore! She’s crazy! She tried to kill us!”

“Ambulance! Somebody call an ambulance!”

He stumbled out, reaching for Samantha, but she recoiled, disgusted.

“No police! Don’t call the cops! I’ll give you money, okay? You were just unlucky! Shut up! Get out! Leave now!”

Samantha was losing it. If the ambulance arrived and a crowd gathered, someone would definitely post about it online.

She was in a critical career phase—any scandal could be permanent.

The injured man snatched the cash, clutched his bleeding neck, and ran off.

I still held the shard, gripping it so tightly my palm was bleeding, mixing with the blood from my leg, pooling on the floor.

Trailing a path of red, I took a step toward Samantha.

All reason had left me.

All I could think about was tearing her to pieces.

“Samantha? Samantha, are you okay? Should we call the police? How could two homeless men just escape? You—why are you back?!”

A woman’s anxious voice rang out.

It was Ethan’s mother.

She was the one who persuaded me to work illegally overseas. She was the one who forced me onto that smuggling boat.

She carried a little boy in her arms. When she spotted me, her expression froze—then twisted in revulsion as she snapped:

“Ugh! Shameless tramp. Done selling yourself out there? Who gave you permission to crawl back here and embarrass my son?”

Seeing the blood all over me, she quickly turned and slammed the door shut to keep the neighbors from noticing.

The woman who once begged me like a stray dog to help her son was long gone.

Back then, she pretended to be a loving mother, swearing I was like a daughter to her, sobbing as she conned me into selling everything I had.

Now, she used the cruelest words to tear me apart.

“Disgusting whore! Vixen! Ugly witch! Trying to seduce my father, too?”

Ethan’s son stormed at me, shouting insults and throwing toys. I was barely conscious, and the glass shard in my hand slipped loose.

“You little bastard! Your mother’s the mistress here! She’s the vixen, and you’re just the bastard child! Your father and I are still married!”

“You’re lying! Mommy’s not a vixen! You’re ugly! You’re the shameless one!” the boy screamed back, sobbing.

Seeing him cry, Ethan’s mother lost all restraint. She stormed forward and slapped me hard across the face.

I was too weak to fight back.

The slap rang in my ears, and the world spun as my vision doubled.

“You can’t even bear children—what man wouldn’t leave you?”

“You’re nothing compared to Samantha. She’s our daughter-in-law, a noble artist! You’re just filth. Trash!”

“Beat her, Grandma! Beat the bad woman to death!” Ethan’s son shrieked. Driven by fury, she shoved me down and pinned me to the ground.

Samantha kicked the broken glass out of my hand while I lay there.

Summoning my last ounce of strength, I roared:

“You’re the real disgrace! You tricked me into smuggling to fund your useless son! You said he had cancer, sobbing like a saint!”

“I trusted you! I tried to comfort you! Do you even know how many times I nearly died abroad because of your lies?!”

“You dare curse me, you slut? Maybe it’s your fault my son didn’t die! You cursed him! Your whole damn family should’ve died!”

Bang!

Agony exploded in my skull as I was slammed to the floor.

I saw Ethan’s son holding a bedside lamp—he had just brought it down on my head.

“Die, you vixen!” he shrieked, hatred burning in his eyes.

I couldn’t hold on anymore. Everything went black.