Chapter 1
“I’m a liar.”
That was what I had to admit on the day I got engaged.
It all started because my fiancé, Lucian Ferguson, overheard the fake heiress talking in her sleep.
“Raina, please don’t burn me with the curling iron again. I’ll give you back your parents and Lucian.”
Faced with my parents‘ rage and Lucian’s deep disappointment, I understood then–Elaine Simpson was scared I’d take everything away from her.
They ended up forcing me into a special training school to be “reformed.”
For an entire year, I endured beatings, abuse, electric shocks, and group violence.
When I wanted to commit suicide, Lucian’s promise echoed in my mind, “Once you’ve completed your reform, we’ll get married.”
But what he didn’t know was that he’d be waiting for a wedding that would never come.
***
I stepped out of the facility, my legs unsteady, my head freshly shaved like everyone else’s, and a worn cloth bag slung over my shoulder,
000%
Chapter 1
The long–lost sunshine hit my face. It was blinding.
I glanced at the instructor, who had opened the door. He flinched and quickly looked away.
Lucian got out of the car and took my bag.
When he saw my rough, shaved hair, he frowned.
“Do you understand what you did wrong?” he asked.
I tilted my head slightly. “…Maybe.”
He didn’t react to my attitude. “Go apologize to Elaine. She’s a good person. She’ll forgive you. Get in.”
Just as he reached for the door, he stopped, looked back, and warned me, “If you hurt Elaine again, I’ll break up with you.
“She saved me. I won’t let anyone cause her pain.”
I kept my eyes down, showing no emotion.
Lucian’s voice grew louder. “Your parents said if you change for the better, they’ll still accept you. If not…”
His voice turned cold. “You’ll stay in that training school forever.”
My eyes flickered, and I nodded stiffly.
Once I got into the passenger seat, Lucian looked at me and reached toward me.
I flinched in fear. “Ah–don’t hit me! I was wrong!”
37.40%
Je Vers
05.335
Chapter 1
#1
23 Vouchers
Startled, Lucian stared at me.
I curled into myself, covering my head. “I’m terrible! I messed up! Don’t hit me!”
He seemed heartbroken.
Then, something crossed his mind, and he scolded with frustration, “Cut it out. You’re faking it!”
He scared me. My eyes turned red, and my voice shook. “Hit other places. Don’t hit my head. It hurts…”
He grabbed my shoulders roughly and made me face him.
His piercing stare felt like it could see right through me. “Who taught you to act like this?
“That school only follows strict routines. They don’t hit anyone.”
77619
