Never Want to See You Again

When Julian Vance's men dragged me into that abandoned warehouse, I never imagined that the man I had loved for three years would order ninety-nine slaps to my face, all for another woman. Over the phone, his voice was freezing, devoid of any warmth. “Not a single one less. Make sure she remembers the consequences of hurting Gemma.” By the time the last slap landed, my face was covered in blood. Only later did he find out that three years ago, when he was blind and stranded in the snowy mountains, it was me who slit my wrists to feed him my blood, left him the last bits of food, and stayed by his side through the despair. He had once held my hand tightly. “Once I get out of here, I will find you. I'll love you with my life.” Yet now, he had mistaken his savior, falling in love with the fake daughter who stole my life, and dragging me into hell with his own hands. Wiping the blood from the corner of my mouth, I laughed and said, “Julian Vance, starting today, I will collect every single thing you owe me, piece by piece.” Stella Mercer POV On the second floor of the Mercer estate, the study door stood slightly ajar, letting out a sliver of dim, yellow light. I stood outside, holding a platter of freshly cut fruit, but my feet were frozen to the floor. “Mom, I don't want to marry Adrian Sterling! I heard he got into a car accident that not only disfigured him but also blinded him, and now he's violent and acts like a lunatic! I'm not going to take care of a freak like that!” Gemma Mercer's whimpering voice drifted through the crack in the door. Right after came the doting, soothing voice of my mother, Catherine Mercer: “How could I ever let you marry a useless cripple like him? Don't worry, darling, I've already rigged tomorrow's drawing. Both slips inside the two drawing‑lots boxes read "marry Adrian Sterling."You'll draw first and just grab any one. The remaining one will naturally go to Stella Mercer. That wretched girl spent fifteen years in an orphanage. Being able to marry into the Sterlings on your behalf is already the luckiest thing that could happen to her!” My hands holding the fruit platter trembled slightly, my fingertips turning pale. Adrian Sterling. The powerful head of the Sterlings, a prominent family among New York's business elite. Rumor had it that a horrific car crash had stripped him of his sight and his looks, transforming him from a proud, top-tier heir of a New York elite family into a dark, twisted monster. To marry him would undoubtedly be stepping straight into hell. I lowered my eyes, a cold sneer playing on my lips. This was my biological mother. Fifteen years ago, the Mercer family's nanny swapped me with her own daughter so that her child could live a life of luxury. Fifteen years later, when the truth was finally exposed, I was brought back to the Mercers. Yet, I didn't receive even a shred of familial love. The Mercers looked down on me for lacking Gemma's elegance and disliked my quiet nature, finding me not vibrant or outgoing enough. They even pushed me forward without a second thought when they needed someone to enter a strategic marriage alliance and suffer. Since things had come to this, I would give them exactly what they wanted. With a loud bang, I pushed open the study door. The two inside gasped in shock, and Gemma, gripped by a guilty conscience, shrank behind Catherine. Catherine's face darkened, and she snapped, “You are so uncouth! Don't you know to knock before entering? Is that what they taught you in that orphanage?” Ignoring her insults, I slammed the fruit platter onto the desk. My cold gaze swept over the two prepared lot-drawing cups, and my voice was calm, devoid of any emotion. “You don't need to waste your energy scheming against me. I will marry Adrian Sterling.” Catherine froze. Apparently not expecting me to agree so readily, a flicker of suspicion flashed in her eyes. “You're really willing to?” “I am,” I said, looking Catherine dead in the eye. My voice was icy. “But I have one condition. I will take her place and marry Adrian Sterling, but Gemma must marry Julian Vance.” “What?!” Catherine's voice shrieked, as if she had heard the most ridiculous joke. “Julian Vance? That broke private tutor who teaches in our house? Are you insane?! Gemma is the heiress of the Mercers! Why on earth should she marry a lowlife who can't even afford a decent suit? Stella Mercer, what kind of malicious schemes are you running in that head of yours!” Looking at Catherine's hysterical face, I only felt a deep sense of pity. A broke private tutor? Just a few days ago, as I was walking by the back garden, I accidentally overheard Julian Vance taking a phone call. The private tutor who acted so gentle and polite in front of the Mercers spoke with a chilling aura of absolute authority. The person on the other end of the line addressed him as 'Mr. Vance.' In New York's business elite, there was only one person who could be called 'Mr. Vance'—the mysterious, elusive heir of the Vances. He had hidden his identity to work as a lowly private tutor for the Mercers, and it wasn't for the paycheck at all. It was for Gemma Mercer. I had seen it clearly—the hidden fervor and absolute indulgence in his eyes whenever he looked at Gemma. “That is my only condition.” I didn't bother explaining, my tone unyielding. “If you don't agree, I will contact the media right now. I'll tell them the whole story about the real and fake heiresses, and how you planned to force your biological daughter to marry in her sister's place. When that happens, whether the Sterlings will let you off the hook, and whether the Mercers' stock will crash—well, you can figure that out for yourselves.” “You dare threaten me?!” Catherine shook with rage, raising her hand to slap me. I didn't flinch. I just stared back at her with icy eyes. The absolute determination and ruthlessness in my gaze actually made Catherine halt mid-air. She hesitated, gritted her teeth, and hissed, “Fine! I promise you! As long as you obediently marry Adrian Sterling, I will have Gemma get engaged to Julian Vance!” Having got the answer I wanted, I turned and walked out. The moment I stepped out of the room, Gemma's protests erupted from inside. “Mom! Are you crazy? How could I marry that poor loser? My fiancé has to be from a top-tier wealthy family!” Catherine lowered her voice, her tone dripping with calculation. “Don't be silly! I was only saying that to pacify that little bitch for now! Once she's safely married to the Sterlings, we'll just find some random excuse to throw Julian Vance out. How could I ever let you suffer!” I stopped in my tracks, closed my eyes, and let out a soft, bitter laugh. These were my family members. Liars through and through, selfish to the bone. I had thought that coming back to this family would give me a warm haven. I had thought that if I was just obedient enough, sensible enough, I would eventually warm up their cold hearts. But reality had given me a harsh slap in the face. I touched the spot over my chest where a heart once beat, full of longing for family and love. This was not my first encounter with Julian Vance. Once, Julian and I had been trapped in the snowy mountains together. Except back then, Julian was temporarily blinded due to a head injury. During those long days and nights trapped in the mountains, that blind boy had given me the hope to live. I fell in love with him, and my heart was filled with joy when I first realized Julian Vance was that very same boy. But now, this heart had grown completely cold and hard. Since they loved acting so much, I would play along with them until this final scene was over. And then, I would sever ties with them completely.Stella Mercer POV The moment I decided to marry Adrian Sterling, I felt lighter than ever before. I decided to go see Julian Vance. Not for any other reason than to put an end to this absurd crush that had started in the snowy mountains and died in reality. I wanted to tell him myself that I was getting married. Julian's room was at the end of the hallway. As I approached, I noticed the door wasn't fully closed, leaving a narrow crack. Just as I was about to raise my hand to knock, the scene through the crack hit me like a bolt of lightning, sending a chill straight down my spine. In the dimly lit room, Julian stood with his back to the door. In his hands was a bright red dress—specifically, Gemma's favorite haute couture gown. He then lowered his head slightly, burying his nose and mouth deep into the scarlet fabric. With each deep breath, his chest rose and fell dramatically, accompanied by a low, contented rumble from deep in his throat. His profile, usually so cold and aloof, was now consumed by a near-pathological obsession and ecstasy, as if that dress were the very oxygen he needed to survive. My stomach churned, a wave of nausea rushing up my throat. I bit my lower lip hard to keep myself from making a sound. Standing outside the door, my lips curled into a smile that looked more painful than a sob. This was the man I had loved for so long. Back in the snowy mountains, even though he was blind, his voice had been so clear and his posture so straight. He had promised me that once he made it out, he would surely repay me for saving his life. Yet now, he was like a total creep, hiding in a dark corner, obsessing over the clothes of a fake heiress who had stolen my place. I turned and walked away, without a single trace of reluctance. Walking down the empty corridor, my past memories sliced through my nerves like razor blades. When I first returned to the Mercers, I realized everyone adored Gemma. Gemma loved wearing red dresses and laughing loudly, vibrant and fiery. To please my parents and catch Julian's attention, my reserved, introverted self began to clumsily mimic her. I put on ill-fitting red dresses and forced exaggerated smiles, trying to turn myself into a flame too. But what did I get in return? It was Catherine's disgusted look: “What are you wearing? Such a pathetic imitation. You are making an utter fool of the Mercers!” It was Gemma covering her mouth, mocking me: “Stella Mercer, you're just a peasant deep down. No matter how much you play pretend, you'll never have the grace of a true socialite.” And worst of all, it was Julian's bone-chilling gaze. He had looked at me as if I were a piece of trash, his voice dripping with blatant disgust: “You will never be her. Stop this nauseating imitation.” Nauseating? Only now did I realize that the one who was truly nauseating was this man who fancied himself so deeply devoted. That afternoon was scheduled for Julian's tutoring session. I sat at the desk as usual, flipping through my books with a detached expression. Before long, Gemma burst in furiously and slammed her textbook right in front of Julian. “I'm not studying anymore!” Gemma's eyes were red as she pointed aggressively at Julian's face and shrieked, “Who do you think you are? A broke private tutor thinking he's worthy of marrying me? Let me tell you, even if that bitch Stella forced my mom to agree, there's no way in hell I would ever marry you! Get the hell out of the Mercer house!” The hand Julian was using to write abruptly froze. The chalk screeched sharply against the blackboard. He turned around, his face instantly darkening as a terrifying hostility surged in his eyes. But as he looked at Gemma, he forcibly suppressed that anger, turning it into a restrained indulgence. He took a deep breath, directing none of his anger toward Gemma. Instead, he snapped his head around, his gaze piercing like a sword straight toward me as I sat there reading. “Stella Mercer!” Julian strode over to me, slamming both hands heavily onto my desk. He loomed over me, glaring down with gritted teeth. “What kind of nonsense did you spew in front of Gemma? What dirty tricks did you use to force Mrs. Mercer? Who gave you permission to make a mockery of her marriage!” I slowly closed my book, raised my head, and met Julian's furious eyes. My gaze was as dead as stagnant water—no grievances, no explanations, only endless mockery. “Nonsense?” I let out a soft chuckle, my voice quiet yet laced with infinite chill. “Why are you getting so worked up? Is it because I exposed your dirty little secrets, or is it because...” I leaned forward slightly, whispering in a cold voice only the three of us could hear: “...or is it because you're afraid someone will find out you sniff her clothes?”Stella Mercer POV The air in the study seemed to freeze instantly. Julian's pupils contracted sharply. His face flashed from dark to deathly pale, then flushed a deep, angry red. “Shut up!” Julian snapped back upright, pointing at my face, his voice trembling with rage. “Stella Mercer, don't project your own filthy, disgusting thoughts onto others! I respect Gemma and have never crossed the line with her! Do you really think you can slander me with such disgusting lies?” Looking at his explosive embarrassment, I found it utterly hilarious. Leaning back in my chair, I stared at him coldly. “Whether I slandered you is something you know best. As for forcing a marriage? I merely made a condition, and it was Mrs. Mercer who agreed to it. If you really care about her so much, you can just take her and leave. Why waste your impotent rage on me?” “You—” Speechless for a moment, Julian then let out a cold laugh, his eyes filled with disgust and disdain. “Stella, as the real heiress of the Mercers, you haven't shown a single ounce of gratitude since returning to this house. Instead, you target Gemma at every turn. You're jealous because she is better than you, jealous because she is more beloved. That's why you came up with such a wicked scheme to torture her! You are utterly shameless!” Jealous? Targeting her? I quietly chewed on those words, feeling as if a dull knife were carving up my heart. Ever since I returned to the Mercers a year ago, I had eaten Gemma's leftovers and worn the out-of-season clothes she didn't want. Gemma had purposefully smashed an antique vase and pinned it on me, making me kneel in the snow all night as punishment. Gemma had thrown herself down the stairs, weeping and claiming I pushed her, which earned me a harsh slap from my father. I lived worse than a dog in this house, yet here was Julian, accusing me of targeting Gemma Mercer? “Yeah, I'm wicked, and I'm jealous of her.” I stood up, my gaze turning completely cold, devoid of even a shred of warmth. “Think whatever you want, Julian. The two of you truly deserve each other.” With that, I didn't even bother giving them another glance and walked straight out of the study. Staying in this house for even another second made me feel suffocated. I left the Mercer residence and took a cab to the Sunshine Orphanage in the suburbs. This was where I had lived for fifteen years, and it was my only refuge in this world where I could still feel some warmth. Director Evans was overjoyed to see me, holding my hand as she chatted with me. Watching the children in the yard laughing brightly despite their worn-out clothes, my tense nerves finally began to relax. I handed out the candies I had brought, sat on a swing, and stared up at the sky, trying to push the Mercers' toxic drama out of my mind. However, this peace did not last long. With a screech of brakes, a flashy red sports car pulled up at the orphanage gates. The door swung open, and Gemma Mercer stepped out, dressed in designer brands, wearing sunglasses, and strutting in high heels. Following behind her were several bodyguards carrying large boxes of high-end toys and imported snacks. “Wow! It's the pretty Ms. Mercer!” “Ms. Mercer is here to see us again!” The children who had been crowding around me immediately cheered and ran toward Gemma when they saw the fancy toys. Gemma took off her sunglasses, flashed an incredibly sweet smile, and handed out the toys, not forgetting to shoot me a provocative glare. Sitting on the swing, watching the kids who used to be closest to me swarm around Gemma, a sharp pang of sorrow pierced my chest. But I didn't blame the children; they were simply longing for the beautiful things they had never seen before. After handing out the items, Gemma walked over and looked down at me, mocking in a low voice, “Do you see this, Stella? Even on your own turf, all it takes is a tiny bit of charity from me to make them follow me around like dogs. Do you think you're so special? So what if you're the real heiress? You're destined to be crushed under my feet for the rest of your life!” I stared coldly at her twisted face, having lost even the energy to get angry. I stood up and brushed the dust off my clothes. “Are you done putting on a show? If you're done, get the hell out of here. Don't ruin this place.” I turned around, preparing to say goodbye to Director Evans. The split second I turned, Gemma suddenly let out a sharp, piercing shriek: “Ah—Stella, why did you hit me?!” I whipped my head back, only to see that Gemma had actually slapped herself hard across the face. The blow was so severe that five clear red finger marks instantly rose on her fair cheek. Gemma fell to the ground on cue, clutching her face as tears streamed down her cheeks like broken pearls, looking the absolute picture of pity. “Stella Mercer! What are you doing?!” A furious roar thundered from the main entrance. At some point, Julian Vance had arrived at the orphanage. He rushed over, shoved me aside, and carefully cradled Gemma Mercer in his arms. "Julian... it hurts so much... She didn't want me to visit the children. She accused me of stealing her spotlight..." Gemma leaned against Julian's chest, sobbing pitifully. Julian looked up, his usually deep and mesmerizing eyes now burning with a bloodthirsty, murderous rage. Glaring at me, he spat through gritted teeth, "Stella Mercer, you are utterly malicious! Gemma came here out of the goodness of her heart for charity, and you actually dared to strike her in broad daylight! The cheapness and vulgarity bred into your very bones can't be hidden even if you wear a haute couture gown! Someone like you belongs rotting in a gutter!"Stella's POV Julian's venomous insults echoed through the empty courtyard of the orphanage, like poisoned daggers plunging straight into my heart. Cradled in Julian's arms, Gemma had tears streaming down her swollen face. Yet, at an angle hidden from his sight, the corners of her mouth curled up into a smug, malicious sneer directed right at me. I didn't explain, nor did I defend myself. I knew that in Julian's eyes, Gemma was sacred. Even if I ripped my heart out and offered it to him, he would only find it repulsive and stained with blood. "Are you finished?" My voice was as cold as a Siberian winter wind. "If you're done, take your precious darling and get the hell out. You're not welcome here." I turned and walked out of the orphanage, my back held rigidly straight, leaving Julian's furious roars far behind me. The sky gradually darkened as heavy storm clouds gathered overhead. A downpour was imminent. I didn't hail a cab; I wanted to walk alone. But as I reached the entrance of a secluded alley, an unmarked black van screeched to a halt beside me. The sliding door flew open, and two masked, muscular men rushed out, clamping a hand over my mouth and dragging me into the vehicle. "Mph—" I struggled with all my might, but it was futile. The van sped off into the night, eventually pulling up inside an abandoned warehouse. I was thrown brutally onto the rough concrete floor, scraping a large patch of skin off my elbow. Just as I tried to push myself up, a sharp, heavy slap landed squarely across my face. *Slap!* The blow was so forceful that my head snapped to the side. My ears rang, and the metallic taste of blood instantly flooded my mouth. "Bitch, how dare you touch our master's sweetheart. We're going to teach you a lesson today!" the leader of the men spat viciously. What followed was a relentless storm of slaps. *Slap! Slap! Slap!* My left cheek, then my right—slaps rained down alternately. The corner of my mouth tore open, and blood dripped down my chin onto the filthy floor. I clenched my teeth and didn't make a sound, staring back at them with bloodshot, defiant eyes. "Quite the high pain tolerance, huh?" Scarface sneered. "Keep hitting her! The master ordered ninety-nine slaps. Not one less!" Ninety-nine slaps. By the time the final slap landed, my face was so swollen it was barely recognizable. My cheeks were a bruised mess of purple and blue, my eyes were swollen shut into mere slits, and my body lay limp on the floor like a discarded rag doll. Scarface pulled out his phone and dialed a number, his tone instantly shifting to one of absolute subservience. "Mr. Vance, we have taught her a lesson. Ninety-nine slaps, not a single one short." From the other end of the line came a voice so cold and detached it sounded completely devoid of humanity. "Dump her by the roadside. Let her learn the consequences of hurting Gemma." *Beep... beep... beep...* The dial tone echoed hollowly through the empty warehouse. Lying prone on the ground, the agonizing physical pain seemed to fade in that moment, replaced by a bone-chilling numbness. Mr. Vance. Julian Vance. So it was him. For the sake of Gemma's clumsy lie, he had taken the law into his own hands and ordered ninety-nine slaps to be rained upon me. I didn't know how I ended up being dumped by the road, nor how I dragged my battered, broken body back to the Mercer residence. When I pushed open the front door of the Mercer villa, Catherine Mercer, who was sitting in the living room wearing a face mask, shrieked in horror. Her shock instantly turned to white-hot rage. "Stella Mercer! Where the hell have you been, you bitch?! You are about to marry into the Sterlings in Gemma's place! Now that you've ruined your face like this, do you want the Sterlings to think we are insulting them? Are you trying to ruin us on purpose?!" No concern, no questions asked—only a torrent of venomous accusations. I turned my back on them and numbly walked away. My face was burning with an agonizing heat, as if engulfed in flames. I had to buy some medicine. I staggered into a pharmacy on the corner, forcing the words out of my throat with great difficulty. "Give me... some pain-relieving ointment." The clerk took one look at me, their expression shifting. They quickly checked the computer system and then said coldly, "Sorry, we don't have any." I went to another store, and then another. "Not selling." "Out of stock." "Just leave. Our shop won't sell you anything." At the fourth pharmacy, the kind-hearted owner looked at my pitiful state, sighed, and whispered, "Don't waste your breath. Every pharmacy in New York received an order from Mr. Vance. If anyone dares sell you so much as a cotton swab, they'll vanish from New York by tomorrow. What on earth did you do to cross him?" I stood on the neon-lit street as the rain finally began to pour. The freezing water hit my burning, swollen face, sending sharp, agonizing jolts of pain through my skin. I tilted my head back, staring up at the pitch-black sky, and suddenly burst out laughing. I laughed so loudly, my tears mixing with the blood and rain running down my face. What did I do? The biggest mistake I ever made was three years ago on that snowy mountain, when I chose not to abandon a boy with a head injury who had lost his sight. I fed him the last of my rations, cut my own wrist to let him drink my blood to quench his thirst, and repeated to him over and over in his moments of despair: "Don't be afraid. I'll get you out of here, and I'll stay with you forever." That boy had held my hand, his voice trembling yet firm: "When I get out of here, I will find you. I will use everything I have to love you." But now, that boy was the powerful, high-and-mighty Mr. Vance of the Vance family. He was using his supreme authority to blacklist me across the entire city, forbidding me from buying even a five-dollar tube of ointment, all to appease another woman.Stella's POV I was utterly devastated. In this very moment, my last shred of affection for Julian was completely extinguished by the freezing rain, leaving behind not even a speck of ash. I returned to the Mercer villa, ignoring the astonished stares of the servants, and went straight to my room. I pulled out a dusty cardboard box and took out the items inside, things I had once cherished like precious treasures. A wooden carving he had whittled for me from a branch on the snowy mountain; a cheap ballpoint pen he had casually handed to me when he was my private tutor; a cufflink he had accidentally dropped. I used to cling to these things as my light to keep living. Now, I tossed them all into the trash can. My movements were decisive, without a single shred of hesitation. "What do you think you're doing?" A deep voice laced with suppressed fury rang out from the doorway. I didn't turn around. I ripped the final sketch of his profile into shreds and tossed them into the trash can. The scraps of paper fluttered down like snowflakes. Julian stood at the door. Looking at the mess on the floor and the familiar items in the trash, his pupils constricted sharply. "Your face..." He took a step forward. But as if dodging a plague, I recoiled a large step backward, my gaze cold and defensive. Without uttering a word, I simply bent down, tied the trash bag tight, and carried it out. I walked right past him without even glancing in his direction, as if he were nothing but empty air. "Stella Mercer, what is with this attitude?!" Infuriated by my complete dismissal, Julian grabbed my wrist. "I'm asking you a question!" "Let go." My voice was as raspy as sandpaper scraping across a table, devoid of any pitch or emotion. "Julian Vance, whether I live or die has nothing to do with you. I've already cleaned up this trash, so don't ever come back to disgust me again." I violently shook off his grip and walked straight downstairs. The next morning, a sharp, wailing cry shattered the silence of the Mercer villa. "My necklace! That was the custom diamond necklace Mom bought me! How is it gone?!" Wearing her pajamas, Gemma wept pitifully in the living room. She pointed directly at me as I descended the stairs. "It's you! It has to be you! You were the only one who went into my room yesterday! Stella Mercer, you were jealous of me, so you stole my necklace!" Catherine Mercer and my father rushed in at the noise. Catherine cradled Gemma protectively, turning to glare at me with venom. "You shameless bitch! Is stealing the only thing you learned at that orphanage? How dare you steal your own sister's necklace! Hand it over!" I stood on the stairs, looking down at this clumsy farce. I had known Gemma wouldn't play nice, so before returning to my room yesterday, I had hidden a micro-camera inside a potted plant in the hallway. Without saying a word, I pulled out my phone and cast the screen to the living room television. The footage clearly showed Gemma sneaking out of her room in the dead of night and stuffing a sparkling necklace into one of my old shoes left outside my door. With the proof laid bare before them, the living room fell into a deathly silence. Gemma's face went white, while Catherine's face flushed a deep, embarrassed red. "Is there any other act you'd like to perform?" I asked coldly, putting my phone away. Just then, the front door swung open, and Julian's assistant walked in, flanked by several bodyguards in black suits. Though polite, the assistant spoke with an undeniable air of authority. "Mr. Mercer, Mr. Vance heard that Ms. Gemma Mercer's necklace was stolen, and he was very saddened by the news. Thus, he specifically ordered me to deliver a new necklace to her." He turned to my father, presenting a metallic crest that represented the Vance family. "Mr. Mercer, Mr. Vance also said that if the Mercers do not know how to punish a thief, he wouldn't mind doing it on your behalf." Seeing the metal crest, my father's knees buckled, and he nearly fell to the floor. Catherine and Gemma were ecstatic. Catherine's voice shook with sheer excitement. "It's Mr. Vance! I knew our Gemma was blessed to receive Mr. Vance's favor! Gemma will be Mr. Vance's wife soon!" Gemma raised her chin triumphantly, casting a provocative glance at me as if looking at a squashed ant. "Bodyguards! Get the whip! Whip this shameless woman thoroughly!" To curry favor with Julian Vance, my father issued the order without a moment's hesitation. The thick leather whip whistled through the air, cracking down brutally on my thin back. *Crack!* *Crack!* My skin tore open, and blood pooled as new wounds were carved over the old ones. I bit down on my lip until it bled, refusing to let out a single cry for mercy. Through my blurred vision, I saw Julian standing in the shadows. Seeing his indulgence toward Gemma and his sheer disgust for me, the very last ripple of emotion in my heart turned to cold, dead ash. I didn't know how many times I was lashed before my body finally gave out, and I blacked out. When I woke up again, I had been thrown back into the dark utility room. My entire body felt like it was being ripped apart, and a high fever left my mind hazy. Just then, the door was gently pushed open. A well-dressed, composed middle-aged woman walked in, holding an elegant medical kit. "Ms. Mercer, I am the housekeeper of the Sterlings. Mr. Sterling heard that you were injured and specifically ordered me to deliver the Sterling family's private stock of medicine."Stella's POV I forced my eyes open, looking at the respectful housekeeper of the Sterlings. My dry, cracked lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. "Please don't move." The housekeeper gently opened the medical kit and retrieved a bottle. "This is a rare ointment from the Sterling family's collection. It works wonders for whip wounds and swelling. Mr. Sterling instructed us that under no circumstances should you be forced to marry with injuries—he would be heartbroken." Heartbroken. The word hit my shattered heart like a sudden wave of warmth. The Sterling patriarch—rumored to be a violent, disfigured, and blind monster—was actually the only person in this world who had shown me any kindness. My eyes grew hot, and I squeezed out a response with effort: "Thank you." After helping me apply the medicine, the housekeeper respectfully withdrew. The ointment was indeed miraculous; the moment it was applied, a cool sensation washed over me, instantly easing most of the burning pain and significantly reducing the swelling on my face. I forced my body upright, clutching the remaining ointment tightly in my hand as if it were a lifeline. *Bang!* The door of the utility room was kicked open with brute force. Julian Vance stood in the doorway against the light, his tall frame exuding an intense, overbearing pressure. His gaze locked onto the delicate white bottle in my hand, and his face instantly darkened. "Where did you get that medicine?" Julian strode over, glaring down at me. I stared back at him coldly and tucked the ointment into my shirt, my voice as flat as if I were speaking to a total stranger. "That is none of your business." "You—" stung by my cold indifference, Julian grabbed my chin, forcing my head up. He insulted me with an even harsher tone. "Stella Mercer, stop acting so righteous in front of me! It's only natural to be punished for stealing!" I whipped my head to the side, breaking free of his grip. "Get out." Julian scoffed in sheer anger. "Fine. Very well. Let's see who else can protect you!" He turned around and stormed off. That evening, I dragged my battered body toward the kitchen to get some water. As I rounded a corner in the hallway, I overheard a conversation between Julian and his assistant. "Go find out! Find out who delivered that medicine to Stella Mercer today!" Julian's voice was cold and ruthless. "Once you find them, blacklist them immediately. Make sure they can no longer survive in New York!" The assistant hesitated, trying to reason with him in a low voice. "Mr. Vance, isn't this a bit too harsh? Ms. Stella Mercer's injuries are indeed very severe. If they aren't treated, I'm afraid she might..." "She must be punished!" Julian interrupted without a second thought, his voice dripping with malice. "She is always bullying Gemma; her heart is wicked. I am only doing this to teach her a lesson!" Around the corner, I stood silently, my breathing perfectly steady. My heart was already dead, and the dead do not feel pain. In the hallway, the assistant watched as Julian irritably lit a cigarette. He couldn't help but ask the question weighing on his mind, "Mr. Vance, there is one thing I don't quite understand. Why do you... love Ms. Gemma Mercer so deeply? To the point that you would ruthlessly target Ms. Stella Mercer like this without even a basic investigation?" Julian exhaled a cloud of smoke. Through the swirling haze, his gaze grew distant and tender. "You don't understand," Julian's voice softened as he drifted into his memories. "Three years ago, I survived an avalanche on a snowy mountain. I suffered a severe head injury, and the internal bleeding pressed against my optic nerve, causing me to go blind. She was the one who saved me." "For days, we could barely move in that frozen wasteland. She fed me the last of her dry rations. She even cut her own wrist to feed me her blood. She held me close, using her own body heat to keep me warm. Although I couldn't see her face, I remembered her voice, and I remembered her scent." Julian paused, a flash of heartache crossing his eyes. "In that snowy mountain, she wept as she told me that she had a miserable life at the Mercer house. She said no one loved her, that she was constantly bullied, and lived worse than a servant. Assistant, think about it. Stella Mercer is the real heiress who was just brought back. The Mercer parents feel guilty toward her, so they naturally dote on her. In that case, who else could be the one suffering and getting bullied in that household besides Gemma, the fake heiress who lost everything the moment the real heiress returned?" The assistant opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately swallowed his words. Julian crushed his cigarette butt, his tone unwavering. "She risked her life to save me. I swore that in this lifetime, I would lay the best of everything in the world at her feet. Anyone who dares to hurt her will pay with their life!" I didn't listen any further. Turning around, I silently went back to my room. My heart was completely dead to him now.