She grabbed a fistful of my hair, forcing me to look up at her. "You’ve got some nerve, don’t you? You know Mr. Johnson has me by his side, but you still come here to seduce him? You must have a death wish!"

Behind her, a woman, Anya Mason, chimed in, "Exactly! Don’t you get it? Our Marion is going to be Mrs. Johnson one day. Who do you think you are?"

The whole group glared at me like they were ready to tear me apart.

So, Joanna had been right. This woman wasn’t just a secretary; she was out to win over my dad.

Knowing it wouldn’t help to fight back right now, I swallowed my anger and tried to explain calmly, “I’m not Mr. Johnson’s mistress. I’m his daughter.”

Marion let out a sharp laugh, as if I’d told a joke. “You expect me to believe that? You look way too much like me to be his daughter. Couldn’t even come up with a better lie?”

The truth was that I looked just like my mom and could practically her double. Marion, on the other hand, only had a strong resemblance.

Another woman behind her, Rachel Lawrence, pulled on her sleeve. “Marion, I think Mr. Johnson does have a daughter. She might be telling the truth.”

Marion scoffed. “A daughter? Who doesn’t know Mr. Johnson’s single? All these years, have any of you seen him with a kid?”

Due to my illness, I’d spent most of my life in hospitals, and with Dad’s busy schedule, he rarely had time to visit.

Only his previous secretaries knew I existed, since they handled a lot of my arrangements.

However, Marion was different. She’d been hired while I was in the hospital, and when I got out recently, Dad took time off to be with me.

We hadn’t met yet.

“Marion, what if she got surgery to look like you? Maybe she saw how valued you were by Mr. Johnson.”

Anya came beside her, staring at me with disdain. “She just wants to replace you!”

Marion’s expression darkened, and in a flash, she kicked me hard in the stomach, knocking me over, wheelchair and all.

“A dirty trick for a dirty girl,” she hissed. “Just like her filthy schemes.”

The recent heart surgery I’d had left me fragile; even the smallest shock could put me at risk.

Clutching my chest, I struggled to breathe as a stabbing pain shot through me. My vision blurred.

Marion stormed toward me, her voice dripping with fury. “So that’s it? Faking illness to get Mr. Johnson’s attention? Because of you, I haven’t seen him in a week!”

She slapped me across the face again and again. “I’ll make sure you know what happens to girls who try to steal Mr. Johnson!”

The stinging pain on my cheeks was overwhelming, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, making me feel faint.

Finally, she seemed to tire out and paused.

I spit out the blood, my voice weak. “Aren’t you worried Mr. Johnson will find out?”

She sneered, “You think you can threaten me with his name? Pathetic.

“Let me tell you something. I could kill you right here, and Mr. Johnson wouldn’t lift a finger against me.”

She squinted, looking me over with cold, assessing eyes. “Actually, maybe I’m not done with you yet. I think you need a bit more color!”

Turning to the two women behind her, she snapped, “Get me a knife. I’m going to ruin this little vixen’s face.”

Gripping my chin hard, she smirked. “Thought you’d seduce him with this face? Let’s see how you’ll do that after I’m done with it!”

I struggled to move away, but with my heart condition, my legs felt completely useless.

Marion laughed, watching me try to crawl back.

“You really think a cripple like you can compete with me?” Then, turning to the bodyguards behind her, she ordered, “Hold her down!”

Two men moved in, their grip like iron as they held my shoulders and arms, pinning me in place. Anya and Rachel advanced with knives in hand.

Fear gripped me, and I screamed, “I really am Mr. Johnson’s daughter! Ask him if you don’t believe me!”

Marion’s eyes were colder than ever. “You think I’m stupid enough to fall for that?”

She waved a hand, signaling to begin, and an intense scream tore from my lips.

The knife sliced through my skin with a sharp chill, and I felt the warmth of blood slide down my face, trailing along my cheek before dripping onto my clothes and the floor below.

The thick, metallic scent of blood filled my nose.

One cut, then another, and another… I lost track after a while.

Rachel spoke up, her voice shaky. “Marion, aren’t we going too far? What if Mr. Johnson finds out?”

“What are you talking about?” Anya snapped, smacking her on the head. “This is Marion! She’s Mr. Johnson’s most trusted person. Even if he knew, he’d never do anything to her.”

Marion stood there, arms crossed, her chin raised defiantly. “I’m the only woman Mr. Johnson has ever really looked at. He even got rid of his old secretary for me. A little mistress like her? She’s nothing!”

I could no longer pinpoint where the pain was coming from. Everything just throbbed together into one agonizing blur.

I prayed Dad would come soon. If he didn’t, they were really going to kill me.

Marion seemed to enjoy watching me cling to life, but apparently, it wasn’t enough.

Her voice turned cold. “Alright, two of you, come over here. Cut off her hands!”

My legs were already injured, and now she wanted to take my hands, too.

I mustered my remaining strength to spit out, “Marion, right? I’ll remember you!”

“Oh, you still dare to talk back? Who do you think you are, calling Marion like that?” Anya sneered, eager to prove herself in front of Marion.

I gritted my teeth, my whole body trembling. “I’m telling you all. You’re going to pay for this.”

Mom died giving birth to me, and I've missed her every day since. Now, this woman had the nerve to use my mother’s face to get close to Dad, trying to worm her way into our family.

That was never going to happen.

As long as I survived today, they would all pay!

“Oh, still threatening us, are you?” Marion picked up a knife from the floor. She dragged the blade across my face, cutting a fresh line of pain.

Then, without a second thought, she raised the knife and brought it down, severing one of my hands.

The pain was overwhelming, worse than any of the cuts on my face.

I nearly blacked out, half-collapsing onto the floor as my vision blurred with red. Through the haze, I could just make out the sight of my hand lying in a pool of blood nearby.

I whimpered, the agony pulling me under, while Marion looked down at me with satisfaction, exhilarated by my suffering.

“Now for the other one.”

With both my hands severed, Marion finally seemed satisfied, pausing to savor the sight of my tear-streaked face.

Anya and Rachel, beside her, fawned over her. “Congratulations, Marion. Now no one will dare to challenge you for Mr. Johnson’s attention.”

“Marion, you should really take a picture of this scene. Show it to any woman who dares come near him in the future!”

Marion grinned and nodded her head, unable to hide her pleasure. “Good idea. Let’s take some photos. We’ll see who’s brave enough to try to take my place.”

She spent a while snapping pictures of me, humming as she scrolled through them, clearly enjoying every moment.

Then Dad walked in.

He strode into the room, his voice booming with fury. “What’s going on?!”

He glared around the courtyard, his eyes like knives, surveying the bloody scene now crowded with people trying to block his view.

I was barely conscious, too weak to open my eyes. However, I could still hear Marion scramble to pick up one of my severed hands, rushing to meet him with a smug expression.

“Mr. Johnson, I caught a spy sent by a rival company.”

Dad’s gaze drifted over the hand she held, his expression barely changing. Marion quickly added, “This was the hand she used to steal your files. I took care of it.”

She batted her lashes and purred, “Mr. Johnson, I went through so much trouble to find this spy. Aren’t you going to praise me just a little?”

At last, Dad gave a curt nod. “Well done.”

She beamed. “Thank you, Mr. Johnson!”

Marion took out her camera, flipping through the photos of me in a blood-soaked heap. “See, Mr. Johnson? These are all of the spy. Now no one will ever dare to steal from your company again!”

The pictures showed me, lying broken and disfigured, my face mangled beyond recognition. Dad couldn’t tell it was me.

After all, as a hard-nosed businessman, he didn’t get to where he was by showing mercy.

“Good. Make sure those photos get around. Let everyone know what happens if they mess with my company!”

He narrowed his eyes, always quick to act with ruthless precision.

Dad, it’s me!

I could feel the bitterness rising as I listened to their voices discussing their plans. Marion, thrilled by Dad’s response, said eagerly, “Absolutely, Mr. Johnson. I’ll make sure they see.”

“Hel…” A small, strangled sound escaped from my throat—a final attempt to call for help.

Dad stopped in his tracks, frowning. “What was that sound?”