Chapter 2

2 Before, seeing that car would have made my heart flutter. I wouldn't have wasted a second to spend with the man I loved.

Now, I just coldly tried to walk around it.

A young man, dressed like a butler, stepped out. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw me.

I knew what he was thinking.

Barefoot, the soles of my feet bloodied, clothes ripped, smelling like something I wouldn't want to put into words.

Who could imagine this was the once proud and passionate Mia Miller?

The man composed himself, making a polite gesture with his hand.

"Miss Miller, the young master is waiting for you in the car."

I had been obsessed with Ethan for seven years, a desperate, puppy-like pursuit, always mocked by others.

But my "moon and stars," my everything, was the one who pushed me deeper into the mud when I needed help the most.

"It's okay, I can walk." My voice was low and muffled.

As I tried to step forward, a car horn blared, jarring me.

The window rolled down, and Ethan's cold, handsome face appeared.

His voice was commanding. "Get in."

I sighed. An opportunity that my old self would have craved, had now become torture.

I dragged my tired body into the car.

Ethan saw my pathetic state, didn't show an ounce of concern, and instead furrowed his brow.

"What did you do to yourself? You look like you went dumpster diving."

My heart was like a stone, not the slightest bit affected by his mocking tone.

Before, his words would have made me feel so ashamed and hurt.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

Sorry for hurting your eyes.

Even though it's not like I wanted any of this.

I didn't want to be beaten black and blue, forced to kneel and bark, slap my own face, burned with cigarette butts…

But, more than the physical pain, I couldn't stand my grandmother dying like that, unable to rest in peace.

Hearing my apology, Ethan seemed surprised, before a satisfied grin spread on his face. "Mia was right, your attitude really improved."

Mia, my "sister," the one who enjoyed everything that was supposed to be mine.

She was the one who took my place in the Miller family before I was found. After I was brought back, I was considered the "little" Miller daughter, while she, for some reason, stayed as the "real" one.

Before I could fully process what Ethan said, the man crooked his finger. "Come here."

Like he was calling a dog.

I was stiff. Since getting into the car, I had tried to keep as far away from him as possible, and had avoided making eye contact.

Now, upon hearing his words, I felt nothing but resistance.

"Now!" he said, his tone laced with command.

His status in life made him used to giving orders.

I tensed up, still reluctant to move.

All the love I had before was gone, burned away by the loss of my dignity.

Ethan, clearly impatient, grabbed my hand. His eyebrows furrowed. "What's with you now?"

"Now?" I let out a small, bitter laugh.

I closed my eyes tightly, not wanting to see him.

The dark memories flooded my brain.

That day, my parents believed I was too arrogant and always targeting the "sweet and docile" Mia.

They had cut off my credit cards, telling me to reflect on my actions.

I left the house in a fury, nobody tried to stop me, as if I was completely disposable in the Miller family.

I was in so much pain, I wanted to call my grandma. She was the only one in the world who loved Mia without a condition.

But I had received devastating news of her sickness instead.

I panicked and desperately needed to get money for Grandma's treatment, but my cards were shut off by my parents as punishment.

I tried calling them, but they didn't answer.

Remembering my grandma fighting for her life, my heart was crushed with a heavy fist, and it ached.

I forced myself to calm down. I didn't hesitate to call Ethan, asking him to borrow some money.

The man who answered me was cold and mocking. "Mia, what did you do now? Can't you just be more like Mia and change your bad attitude?"

His cruel words were like a slap in the face, painful and humiliating.

Mia was my trigger, the one thing I hated the most, when people compared me to her.

A two-faced, opportunistic, imposter.

But I still tried to explain that I needed the money to save my Grandma's life.

Before I could even speak, he hung up on me.

When I called again, no one answered.

My heart turned to ice, helpless and desperate.

Later on, I ran into some rich kids from my circle who looked down on me.

They grinned at me. "Heard you're desperate for money. We could chip in for you, but there's no such thing as a free lunch, right, hillbilly?"

One of them patted my face in an insulting way. "As long as you're a good girl and entertain us, I'll throw a little money your way."

Their words made my fists clench. I wanted to punch them.

But then, I thought of Grandma in her hospital bed, pale and coughing up blood. I couldn't risk it.

I swallowed my pride and asked. "What do you want?"

"Kneel down and bow for us. After all, we are your sugar daddies now."

Without hesitation, I banged my head on the ground, over and over, the sound echoing, my forehead turning purple.

But they weren't done. They made me bark like a dog, spat on me, and used cigarettes on my skin.

I gritted my teeth and endured it.

Compared to my own pain, my grandmother's life was more important.

After they'd had their fun, they tossed a few crumpled bills on my face.

"You really are a hillbilly, as low as a dog. Consider it a reward for your performance. But that's all you're worth."

"Ethan was right; you're worthless."

My eyes burned. I knew I had been played, but I was powerless.

Grandma still desperately needed medical care. Out of desperation, I borrowed money from a loan shark.

She was the family who raised me, so I couldn't just abandon her.

But by the time I got the money, it was too late. My Grandma had already passed away.

And the worst part was that even her funeral was ruined.

The loan sharks showed up and turned the white of mourning red with my blood.

My body was bruised, my face was swollen, and I was being pulled and dragged, my head submerged in dirty water, suffocating.

They sneered, threatening to take Grandma's urn and scatter her ashes.

I threw myself in front of them to protect her ashes.

And then, my right hand, the one I cherished so much, had one of my fingers crushed, shattering my dream of becoming a pianist.

The piano prodigy could no longer play. The pain was unbearable.