Scapegoat Daughter of the Big Boss

On the first day I reunite with the wealthy Holloways, as soon as I step into the villa, I'm instantly whisked into a car with tinted windows.

The fake heiress, Kate Holloway, cuts my ID and bank card with a pair of scissors right in front of my biological parents. She grins smugly at me the whole time.

"You see, Rosalie, I've offended that one person who must not be offended at all costs in Ravenfield. You should go kneel in his estate for a few days. Think of this as your way to repay the Hollways for giving birth to you in this world."

My heartless parents even tell the driver, "Make sure that she doesn't escape. It all depends on her whether or not our family will be able to survive this crisis."

The journey to the mysterious man's estate is bumpy. But the scenery outside the window becomes more familiar as time passes.

Finally, the driver stops right outside a well-guarded estate. He reports in a frightened tone, "W-We are here to deliver the girl to Mr. Whitethorn."

Mr. Whitethorn?

As in the powerful man who is prone to mood swings and can easily make families such as the Holloways go into bankruptcy with just a twitch of his finger?

Wait, isn't that Dominic Whitethorn, my adoptive father who has doted on me since I was a little girl?

The Holloways have chosen to make me the scapegoat in order to protect Kate. They probably never would've thought that the fearsome Mr. Whitethorn, who's capable of determining their survival, has scoured the entire city for me because I didn't come home last night.

"Ugh! What a piece of trash! Do you really think you're one of the Holloways? You're nothing but a stray they keep outside. Getting to die in place of Ms. Kate is the kind of luck your miserable life could never earn, no matter how many lifetimes you live."

Inside the cramped van, the bald, scar-faced man spat a thick glob of phlegm right next to my foot. The thugs behind him stared at me as if I were a dead man walking.

I finally understood.

It was no wonder that three days ago, the Holloways had gone all out with their search for their missing daughter.

I thought I was loved. As it turned out, I was just being sold off. They were trading my life for Kate Holloway's. What a truly heart-stirring display of parental love.

"Let me go! Whatever the Holloways are paying you, I'll pay you ten times that!" I yelled.

"Ten times?" Scarface smacked my cheek with the flat of his knife. "With what? With these flea-market rags of yours? Or do you mean…"

The lewd look in his eyes was unmistakable as he brushed his hand over my face, a sleazy grin spreading across his lips.

"Or are you going to let us have some fun first?" he asked, cackling.

Suddenly, he clamped a hand around my throat. "Behave! The person your family crossed is Mr. Whitethorn. If he's pissed, the entire Holloway family will be wiped off the map of Ravenfield, let alone just you."

"Whitethorn? Dominic Whitethorn?" I confirmed, pretending to be terrified. "The person Kate crossed is Dominic Whitethorn from Ravenfield?"

After all this fuss and commotion, they had abducted me to offer me up to my own adoptive father?

In that case, they were truly finished.

The thought made me tremble uncontrollably—half from excitement, half from terror. Excitement because these idiots were marching right toward death's doorstep, and terror because I knew how insanely possessive and cruel Dominic—Dad—could be.

The last maid who'd stolen a pen from me? He had personally torn out her hand and foot tendons and turned them into displays. Even now, they were still displayed in a corner of his study.

And another lackey who had criticized me behind my back, saying that I was "useless and uneducated"? Dad had cut out his tongue, sewn his mouth shut, and left him to starve to death slowly in an iron cage in the underground fight club.

I swallowed a mouthful of coppery-tasting saliva. "Let me go now, and I'll pretend none of this happened."

If the Holloways had shown me even the slightest shred of kindness, then Dad—out of consideration for me—might have spared them.

But now…

Scarface's eyes grew even more vicious as he spat again.

"Fuck! You still have the nerve to negotiate with me? If I let you go, how the hell are my brothers supposed to get their payment?"