Your Scapegoat that Brought You Down

Sapphire's POV

Sylvester immediately bowed and scraped. “Mr. Webster, Sapphire’s just young and ignorant. She made a mistake, but you’re a magnanimous man. Why lower yourself to her level? Why not let her drink with you tonight as an apology?”

That bastard. Not only did he want me to take the blame, but now he was trying to hand me over to this disgusting old man!

Ted lifted his glass and swaggered over. “Sweetheart, smart people know when to adapt. Make me happy tonight, and we can talk about reducing the compensation.”

“In your dreams!”

I shoved him away and bolted toward the door.

But two bodyguards instantly blocked my way.

I spun back toward Sylvester and, fury blazing in my chest, shouted, “Sylvester! Are you even human? After three years together, this is how you treat me?”

He sneered. “Feelings? What’s that worth compared to my future? You leaked company secrets, and now you’re trying to shove the blame aside?”

“I didn’t!” I insisted.

But he countered, “Everything points to you. Stop denying it!”

He then jerked his chin at the guards and ordered, “Bring her here.”

They forced me back into the chair, pinning me down no matter how I struggled.

“Sylvester!” I snapped. “Melinda's just playing you. I’m Conrad Shepherd's real daughter. If you hurt me, Dad will never forgive you!”

For a moment, the entire room fell silent before exploding into mocking laughter.

Sylvester smacked my face lightly, like I was some kind of clown.

“Don’t make me laugh. You clearly said it yourself. His is Shepherd. But yours is Shillingford. How could you possibly be his daughter? And I see Melinda every day riding in his car to and from work. If she’s not his daughter, then who is?”

His smirk turned cold. “Since you won’t take the easy way, don’t blame us for forcing you.”

Sylvester grabbed my chin, yanked up a glass of wine, and poured it into my mouth. “Drink!”

The icy liquid flooded my throat. I thrashed my head, spilling it down my shirt, soaking my chest, but he didn’t stop. Glass after glass, he kept forcing it down.

Soon, my vision blurred, and my stomach twisted in agony.

“Enough!” I pushed him with every ounce of strength I had left.

But he only grabbed an entire bottle this time, pried open my mouth, and snarled, “Don’t want to drink? Then I’ll make you!”

The liquor burned like fire down my throat. The world tilted violently, spinning out of control.

Meanwhile, Ted’s eyes gleamed with sick excitement as he watched.

“Good, good. This is getting interesting.”

Seeing I had no strength left, Sylvester pulled a key card from his pocket and handed it over.

“Mr. Webster, Room 1208. I had it prepared especially for you.”

“Haha, Sylvester, you’re a clever one. You’ll go far.” Ted clapped him on the shoulder approvingly.

Shortly, I felt rough hands gripping my arms, dragging me toward the door.

I wanted to scream, to fight, but the alcohol left me limp, and my body was betraying me. Despair rose like a tide, drowning me.

And then, suddenly, the door slammed open, kicked clean off its hinges.

Then, a familiar voice roared like thunder. “You bastards! Touch my daughter, and you’re dead men!”