Chapter 2

Chapter 2

My mother passed away when I was young, leaving my father and me to depend on each other.

When I was sixteen, my father brought Aunt Helen and ten-year-old Devon home.

He told me, "Rory, this is Helen and her son, Devon. From now on, the four of us are a family."

My father was always buried in work, so I had spent most of my childhood alone.

I never resented Aunt Helen joining our family. In fact, I eagerly looked forward to having a warm, bustling home.

Aunt Helen treated me like her own flesh and blood, constantly cooking delicious meals for me.

Even if I casually mentioned craving something, she would make it from scratch that very evening.

I was endlessly grateful for her warmth.

Naturally, I poured all my care into Aunt Helen and Devon.

Yet for some reason, Devon remained distant toward me.

Aunt Helen told me that Devon simply took time to warm up to people, urging me not to take it to heart.

Taking her words to heart, I tried even harder to bond with him.

Every single day, I shared the funny little details of my life with him.

I genuinely believed that sincerity could melt the ice around his heart.

I never imagined that his coldness was reserved solely for me.

He simply despised me.

Stepping back into the family mansion felt entirely surreal.

When Devon reached out once more to grab my bag, terror gripped me, and I jumped back instantly.

Suppressing his irritation, Devon snapped, "Rory, what kind of game are you playing now?"

My lips trembled violently. Blood-soaked memories rushed back into my mind, and the metallic taste of copper rose in my throat.

I frantically recited the academy rules over and over until my trembling subsided.

Devon furrowed his brows and warned harshly, "My mother just recovered from a serious illness and cannot handle any stress. If you pull any stunts in front of her, I will make you pay."

The thought of Aunt Helen's fragile health made my heart ache. I shook my head quickly. "I would never do anything to upset her. I promise."

Devon scoffed. "You better keep your word."

I followed him inside and immediately saw Aunt Helen sitting on the living room sofa.

Wendy was sitting beside her.

Wendy had her arm looped around Aunt Helen's, leaning in affectionately.

Aunt Helen was laughing at her playful antics, her eyes filled with fond indulgence.

I clenched my fists tightly, only to let my fingers fall limp at my sides.

Wendy was my younger cousin, the same age as Devon.

In the eighth year after my father and Aunt Helen married, Wendy's parents were sent to federal prison for illegal business operations. With no one to look after her, Wendy was taken into our home.

She was pretty, charming, and knew exactly what to say to please my father and Aunt Helen.

Even Devon, who was normally so aloof, treated Wendy with remarkable gentleness.

Until one day, I caught Wendy secretly installing a hidden camera inside Devon's bedroom.

When I confronted her, she admitted she intended to sell his private photos for quick cash.

Furious, I gave her a stern lecture.

In my anger, I couldn't hold back and slapped her across the face.

I hadn't used much force, but Wendy somehow tumbled backward and slammed her forehead against the edge of the coffee table.

Devon walked in right at that exact moment. After glaring at me with raw hatred, he scooped Wendy into his arms and rushed her to the hospital without looking back.

Later, Devon uncovered my hidden feelings for him.

The moment he took over the corporate world, his first move was shipping me off to the obedience reform camp.

A wave of bitter injustice washed over me. Wendy was the one who had tried to exploit Devon back then.

I was only trying to protect him.

Yet Wendy received his devotion and Aunt Helen's love, while I received exile and torment.