Page 24

“I’m leaving this house, Mrs. Kingsley,” Anya said, her voice trembling with rage as she struggled to free herself. “What else do you want?! Let go of me!”
But instead of letting go, Janet turned toward the tall, burly guard standing silently nearby.
“Here,” she said with a vicious glare. She shoved Anya toward him. “She’s yours now.”
The guard didn’t hesitate. He caught Anya in his arms, wrapping her in an iron grip that left her immobile.
Anya’s heart slammed in her chest. Her entire body trembled at the implication. “Let go of me! I said I’m leaving!” she cried, thrashing in panic.
But Janet continued coldly, her voice laced with poison. “Take her away. Do whatever you want with her. Just make sure there’s not a single part of her disgusting body left that my son would want. My son doesn’t like used things.”
Anya’s pulse pounded in her ears as she struggled, her body shaking with fear and disbelief. She kicked her legs, desperately trying to break free, but the guard’s grip only tightened, dragging her across the floor.
"Let go!" she cried out, her voice broken, her tears threatening to spill. But the guard just smirked, cruel amusement in his eyes as he shoved her backward, his hands roaming over her.
Anya’s mind spun. She needed to escape, but her body felt paralyzed with fear. She scrambled on the floor, her hands trembling as she tried to push herself up.
“Be with me now,” the guard growled, his voice thick with malice. “I’ll give you a bed to sleep in.” He laughed, reaching to rip her dress from her shoulders.
The guard, growing more furious with every attempt she made to escape, grabbed her by the leg, hauling her toward him like she weighed nothing.
“No!” Anya shouted, kicking him hard in the stomach. He stumbled back, shocked for a moment—but then rage twisted his face.
“You little bitch,” he snarled, storming toward her again.
Anya scrambled to her feet, but he caught her by the shoulders and violently spun her around before slapping her across the face.
The sound of the slap echoed through the hall.
A maid standing behind a pillar near the kitchen saw everything. Her hands shook as she fumbled to make a call.
“Mr. Kingsley,” she whispered urgently into the phone. “Please come home immediately. Something’s wrong with Miss Anya.”
She hung up quickly.
Back in the hall, Janet, still watching the scene, said coldly to the guard, “Don’t waste any more time. Enough of this. Just finish it. Hurry up.”
Anya was sobbing, crawling away, her face soaked in tears. Her eyes darted around until they landed on the knife lying on the table next to the fruits. Without a second thought, she lunged for it and pointed it at Janet, her hands shaking, her breaths heavy and uneven.
"Stay back!" Anya shouted, her voice strained and full of desperation. She pointed the knife at Janet’s face, tears streaming down her cheeks. "If you come any closer, I swear I’ll kill both of you."
Janet sneered and lunged forward, trying to grab the knife, but Anya was quick. With a wild swing, she sliced across Janet’s hand, drawing blood. Janet howled in pain, stepping back in surprise.
"Ah!" Janet shrieked, clutching her bleeding hand, her eyes filled with fury.
Just then, the front door burst open. A man’s voice rang out, urgent.
“Mrs. Kingsley! Mr. Carter is here! He came with a full convoy, and there are people surrounding the house!”
Janet froze, confused. “Carter?” she echoed. “Charles Carter?”
Her body stiffened.
She straightened her back, suddenly composed. ‘Is he here to discuss the marriage of his daughter to Dante?’ she thought, excitement building in her chest. This could be the moment she’d been waiting for.
Excitement flared in her chest at the thought.
“Hey, you!” she barked at the guard, grabbing Anya’s suitcase and throwing it toward him. “Take this, and take her. Get her outof here—now. Through the backdoor. Don’t touch her. I don’t need trouble with the Carters. Just dump her on the street. I never want to see her near my house again.”