He Saved the Dog, Not Our Children

“It’s about time you learned a lesson.”

Once, in order to protect Ethan Miller, I had been locked in a kidnappers’ basement for seven long days and nights. Ever since then, I had suffered from a paralyzing fear of the dark.

The scars I bore for him in the past were now being cruelly torn open again.

In the suffocating darkness, my heart began to pound, my breath growing shallow and frantic. Pain twisted sharply in my lower abdomen.

Just when I thought I might die in the dark, the door creaked open.

I crawled desperately toward the light—only for someone to slam their foot down on my hands.

“Sophia Brooks, look at you now,” Chloe Adams sneered. “Crawling like a dog, clinging to life. You should just go die with your two bastards.”

At the mention of my children, my dim eyes flared with light again. I clutched her pants with all my strength.

“They are not bastards…”

But Chloe suddenly staggered backward, collapsing into Ethan’s arms as he rushed in.

“Ethan, don’t blame Sophia,” she said quickly, her voice trembling. “I just tripped by accident…”

Seeing me dare to lay hands on Chloe, Ethan’s face twisted with fury. He drove his foot hard into my stomach.

“Sophia, since you show no remorse, you can reflect at the front door.”

He ordered the bodyguards to drag me outside the mansion. I felt something warm and wet trickling down my legs.

When I reached the front, I finally realized—tonight Ethan had invited guests for a charity gala in honor of Star.

The guests had all brought their own pets. My children’s toys lay scattered, chewed and slobbered on.

On the large screen played endless photos of Star’s adorable poses.

In the midst of their laughter and chatter, I spotted my children’s urn tossed carelessly into a corner, its surface marred by deep and shallow teeth marks.

With trembling strength, I forced myself to my feet and cradled the urn in my arms.

“Why is her pants covered in blood?” someone gasped.

As I stepped inside, people covered their noses and looked at me with disgust.

“It’s just a worthless box. My baby touched it once and I already thought it was filthy—yet she clings to it like it’s treasure.”

I looked around. What was once my home had been desecrated by this pack of pampered animals.

My children had been gone only a few days, and yet their father was hosting a party—for a dog.

Clutching the urn, I tried to leave, but Chloe blocked my way.

“Sophia, that’s Star’s toy. If you want it, you’ll need to ask Star first…”

“In my own house, to take my own belongings—why would I need a beast’s permission?” I spat.

Behind me, the giant screen flickered—and to my horror, the video of me kneeling to the dog played for everyone to see.

“Ha! She says it’s just a beast, yet didn’t she kneel and beg forgiveness from that same beast?”

Laughter erupted, loud and merciless.

I stood there like a clown, a spectacle for their amusement.

Just then, Star lunged at me, teeth bared. Instinctively, I kicked him away.

“Sophia! How can you be so vicious?” Ethan roared when Chloe scooped the dog into her arms, pretending to sob in distress. He struck me hard across the face.

Stumbling, I lost my grip. The urn crashed to the ground.

“I want to see what’s inside this box that you treasure so much!” Ethan growled.

“No!” I cried out in horror.

“Ethan, it really is our children’s ashes—don’t…”

I clutched at his pants, pleading desperately.

“The children’s ashes?” Ethan hesitated, glancing down at me.

I nodded frantically, believing for a moment that he finally understood.

But in the next instant, his face twisted. He swung his leg and kicked.

The urn flew into the air, then smashed violently against the ground right before my eyes—splintering into pieces.