Rebirth of the Forgotten Girl, Now He’s the One Begging

"I want her to pay for her own sins!"

My pupils contracted.

Despite my frantic struggle, the bodyguards forced me to the ground.

"Jason, you beast! I told you—it wasn’t me!"

"You’ll get what’s coming to you! You’ll die a miserable death!"

"Ah!"

The needle stabbed into my lip, flooding my senses with blinding pain. My screams of agony were silenced, stitched shut one cruel loop at a time.

In the end, all that remained on my face was a grotesque trail of blood.

"Tsk. Disgusting."

Jason stared at the blood pooling on the floor, then grabbed a handful of my hair.

"This could make a great mop. Rip it off and clean the mess."

Time blurred.

I was drenched in blood, my scalp torn open, like a discarded rag doll.

But I refused to die here.

I dragged myself forward, inch by inch.

Miranda clutched her chest and said, feigning concern,

“Dad, Mom, look at my sister. She’s still trying to run away.”

“She dares to hurt me now—won’t she ruin my wedding in seven days?”

Jason narrowed his eyes, then smiled at my parents.

“Miranda has a point.”

“I think the Luxton family’s basement is perfect—dark and quiet. Like a coffin.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks. He knew.

He knew about my trauma—and he was using it.

I gripped the carpet, trembling, choking back sobs.

A bodyguard seized my shoulders and dragged me back.

My father didn’t hesitate.

“Lock the eldest daughter in the basement. Don’t let her out until seven days pass.”

My mother turned her head, pretending to show reluctance.

“Take Evelyn’s phone, too. We can’t risk her harming her sister again.”

As the two bodyguards lifted me, Jason leaned down and whispered:

“Evelyn, all this fuss—you still want to be Mrs. Xavier, don’t you?”

“If you kneel now and beg me, swear you won’t hurt Miranda again, I’ll make you my lover. I’ll even spare your family. How about that?”

Eyes bloodshot, I glared at him, hatred burning.

He chuckled and straightened up.

“You really don’t know how to be grateful.”

Miranda curled into Jason’s arms, a triumphant smirk on her face.

She mouthed, ‘Sister, I win again.’

The basement was dark and musty.

I curled into a corner, trembling, hatred swelling uncontrollably in my chest.

Whatever love I had left for my parents—

It is gone now.

In seven days, I’d make them all pay.

Just as I thought I’d die in that basement,

The heavy iron door creaked open.

The thugs from before burst in.

The yellow-haired man carried me out.

Even hardened gang members gasped at my battered state.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw the white ceiling of a hospital.

My wounds had been treated. I wore a floppy hat.

The yellow-haired man told me his boss had advanced his plans, and I should rest for two days and meet him at the funeral.

I nodded, looking down at the diamond ring on my finger.

There was a message on my phone from him:

"Keep the ring for now. Once you recover, I want the world to watch you marry me in grandeur."

On the seventh day, Jason and Miranda’s wedding ended. The fake funeral began in full swing.

I arrived to mourn—just as Jason’s funeral procession began.

Miranda led the line, carrying a fake portrait.

The moment she saw me, she shrieked:

“Sister?! You’re here?! Even the basement couldn’t hold you?!”

The coffin lid suddenly lifted.

Jason sat up, dressed in funeral robes, his face still caked in death makeup.