The man she once saw as her prize and her safe harbor had become the demon dragging her to hell.
In the mirror, she stared at the black and blue marks covering her body. Her tears had long since run dry, leaving only the burning embers of venomous hatred in her eyes.
“Grace…”
She gritted her teeth, forcing the name from her throat, each syllable laced with poison.
If it wasn’t for her!
If that meddling bitch Grace had just disappeared, Ethan would never have become like this. Mr. Clarke would never have targeted the Ward and Hart families.
She would never admit it was her own fault.
In her twisted world, all her misfortune stemmed from Grace’s existence.
Clutching her aching chest, a crazy idea began to form in Lilian’s mind.
If everyone thought Grace was so perfect, then she would show them all just how despicable their “golden girl” truly was.
She would make Grace suffer a thousand times more than she had.
After another one of Ethan’s violent outbursts, Lilian curled up on the floor, pretending to be on the verge of death.
Ethan looked at her half-dead state with a flash of annoyance.
The sight of her face disgusted him now.
But Damien’s pressure was mounting, and he needed a punching bag.
“Get out.”
He nudged her with his foot, spitting out the words.
A glint of cunning flashed in Lilian’s eyes before being masked by a thick veil of fear.
She scrambled out of the villa as if a ghost were chasing her.
This time, she didn't go back to the Hart family.
She knew that begging for help directly was useless now.
She needed a different approach.
Lilian hailed a cab and went straight to the Hart Group headquarters.
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