The third year after I returned home, my family went bankrupt, and my parents were murdered. I fell from being a pampered heiress to working odd jobs just to survive. To uncover the truth behind my parents’ deaths, I married my ex-boyfriend’s father. In public, Julian Thorne was aloof and dangerously elegant, his eyes filled with endless sarcasm and mockery. “What? Couldn’t reel me in, so you decided to hook my dad instead? Planning to be my stepmom now?” But behind closed doors, his eyes would turn bloodshot as he gripped my waist, punishing me again and again. “Stepmom… scream for me… a million bucks for every gasp…” Three years after returning to the country, my family’s company unexpectedly went bankrupt, and both my parents died. I went from being the darling of our circle to a laughingstock. Burdened with debt, I had no choice but to work and simultaneously investigate the truth behind my parents’ murder. One evening, while serving drinks at a high-end club, a few luxury cars pulled up outside, and several rich young men stepped out. Among them, I instantly spotted him: Julian Thorne, my ex-boyfriend. He was wearing a black suit, his figure lean and tall. Rimless designer glasses framed his face, making him look exceptionally sophisticated and distant. My heart was in turmoil. Just then, Mr. Davis, the club manager, assigned me to deliver drinks to their room, and I absently accepted. The room number was 816. I knocked on the door, then pushed it open, carrying the tray of drinks inside. But the next second, I regretted it. The private room was thick with smoke, and neon lights flashed erratically. Julian sat in the main seat. Beneath his suit jacket, his white shirt was unbuttoned, creating an aura of forbidden allure. My body stiffened instantly. I lowered my head, praying he wouldn’t recognize me. “Well, well, isn’t that Miss Skylar? What are you doing in a place like this?” As soon as I set the drinks down, one of the men beside Julian called out to me, his tone laced with amusement. “Julian, you’ve just returned from abroad, so you might not know,” “This, right here, is our infamous Miss Skylar.” Another man grabbed Julian’s arm and began rattling off my entire family history, complete with all the juicy details. Julian lit a cigarette, glanced at me, and smirked. “Oh, really? That famous, huh?” I couldn’t bear to listen to their insulting words anymore. After placing the drinks, I turned to leave. But then, one of the rich guys abruptly shut the door. “Didn’t Miss Skylar used to love singing? How about a song for us?” I felt a surge of humiliation. I set the microphone aside, picked up a fresh one, and was about to sing. Suddenly, a low, sarcastic chuckle sounded in my ear. “Having a club girl sing? Don’t you worry about tainting the air with such vulgarity?”
I looked up. Julian was swirling his red wine, looking down on me, his eyes filled with searing sarcasm. He had a point. I’d dumped him without a second thought back then, so there was no reason for Julian not to hate me. As soon as he spoke, the others, sensing his displeasure, let me go. Stepping out of the room, my breathing was ragged. I gulped down several deep breaths. After that, whenever I worked, I refused any assignments for room 816. The night wore on, and finally, my shift ended. My rented apartment was nearby, so I walked to and from work every day. It was ten o’clock at night now, and the deserted streets were mostly empty. But strangely, a few honks suddenly blared from behind me. The next moment, a black Porsche Cayenne screeched to a halt right in front of me. Julian stepped out, effortlessly elegant, lit a cigarette, and leaned casually against the car. “After leaving me, you’ve become so pathetic?” “Why are you working in a club now?” His face held a teasing smirk, his words sharp as daggers, his tone aggressive. I ignored him, trying to walk around him. Julian took a deep drag from his cigarette, then grabbed my arm, slamming me against the car. His lips crushed mine. The taste of smoke exploded in my mouth. I fought back fiercely, biting into his lip until I tasted blood. Julian licked his lips, his smile a little wild. “What, you’ve turned into a club girl, and you can’t even handle a kiss?” I raised my hand to slap him, but he caught it, scooped me up with one arm, and shoved me into the car. Julian’s body pressed down on me, his presence overwhelming, angrily tearing at my clothes. “You’d rather be a club girl than stay with me, wouldn’t you?” I was terrified, struggling wildly and screaming. “You’re insane! Let me go!” Julian’s face darkened, his eyes blazing with pure possessiveness. “Save your energy. Later, each scream will be worth a million bucks.” He started to strip off his clothes, but then a police siren blared outside, stopping him cold.
I had called the police while he wasn’t paying attention. The officer asked for a resolution, and I smiled, saying we could settle it privately. But he had to pay me. Julian frowned, furious. Without a word, he threw a bank card at my face. He left with a parting shot: “You really are pathetic,” then walked away. Julian and I met abroad. We were both studying overseas as teenagers, and coincidentally, we were neighbors. At that time, we were in the prime of our youth, a handsome boy and a beautiful girl, and there was an instant spark between us. Once we were together, we became inseparable. Julian’s words weren’t so harsh back then; he was a gentle, attentive younger man. I remember once, some guy from my class abroad joked about me. Julian’s face turned menacing when he heard it. He lunged at the guy and beat him senseless. I couldn’t stop him. We ended up at the police station that day, too, but his gaze never left me. His brow furrowed slightly as he held my hand, murmuring cautiously, “Skylar, I’m sorry. I won’t be so reckless again, okay?” He loved me so much back then. He was like a completely different person from the mocking, arrogant man he was now. But I couldn’t blame him. My family had arranged a strategic alliance for me through marriage, forcing me to break up with him. So, for his sake and mine, I said cruel things to break up with him and then immediately blocked him on every social media platform. The very next day, I flew back home. But I truly didn’t know he was the heir to the Thorne empire then. Otherwise, if I had to marry for alliance anyway, why would I have looked elsewhere? Now, it was too late to say anything. I took the bank card to the bank; it held exactly a million dollars. After paying off my debts, there was still a portion left for my expenses. Now, I no longer wanted any connection with Julian. At best, he was an ex. So, I quit my job at the club. In the following days, I dedicated myself to investigating the truth behind my parents’ deaths. Finally, by piecing together scattered clues, I found a lead. The clues pointed to one company that had financial dealings with ours before the bankruptcy… Only Thorne Industries. Thorne Industries? I stared at the documents on my computer, lost in thought.
The next day, I packed my bags and attended a gala. Julian was also present at the event. But he wasn’t my target; his father was. During a lull in the party, I deliberately slipped into Mr. Thorne’s private lounge. Then, I hacked into his computer, hoping to unearth more clues. But just then, Mr. Thorne’s voice grew closer; he seemed to be returning. I panicked, frantically searching for a solution. Unexpectedly, the sounds from outside the door gradually faded away. I breathed a sigh of relief and copied the files onto a USB drive. I pushed the door open to leave, but suddenly, a hand gripped my waist, spun me around, and pulled me into an adjoining private room. Julian pinned my hands above my head with one hand and gripped my chin with the other. He slammed me against the wall, leaning close, a mocking smile on his face. “What? Couldn’t become my woman, so you’re trying to seduce my dad instead?” I gritted my teeth, retorting, seething with anger, “What, you said I was pathetic, didn’t you? So what if I am!” Julian’s smile was sharp and cruel, and his grip on my jaw tightened, as if he wanted to crush me. “Then I’ll show you what *more* pathetic things truly are.” He finished speaking and lunged at me, leaving me no chance to escape. I struggled desperately but was still overpowered. Just as things escalated, his phone rang. Julian ignored it, pressing the call, then continued. I was on the verge of tears. I thought Julian was a psycho. Didn’t *he* call me pathetic? So why was he trying to harass me now? But then, a rapid knocking suddenly echoed from the room door.
Julian’s fun was interrupted again. He opened the door, his face a mask of fury, clearly annoyed. The person opposite him was extremely anxious, speaking without preamble. “I just called you, but you didn’t answer. Mr. Thorne said there was trouble at the company.” “What kind of trouble?” “Corporate secrets were stolen. Mr. Thorne is furious.” I lay stunned on the bed, my heart leaping to my throat. Had they found out about my hacking? Would Julian still let me leave? I secretly pondered my options. Julian, I realized, had quietly walked over to my side. To escape and avoid detection, I deliberately tried to seduce him. I peeled back the sheets, exposing my leg: “What, weren’t you going to teach me how to be pathetic?” Julian frowned deeply. He yanked the blanket back over me. He pulled his discarded suit pants back on, then narrowed his eyes, giving me a chilling warning. “Skylar, I’m warning you, don’t do pathetic things like that, and don’t provoke me.” ??? Excuse me? Who was provoking whom? After Julian finished speaking, he pushed open the door and walked out. It seemed he hadn’t discovered anything. I could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Back home, I copied the contents of the USB drive onto my computer. Sure enough, I found a significant clue. It turned out that while Thorne Industries was cooperating with us, they were also secretly colluding with other corporations. This was likely the fundamental reason for my company’s bankruptcy. And the direct catalyst for my parents’ deaths. I would uncover the truth step by step, and take my revenge step by step. But to uncover it, I needed an entry point. Since it involved Thorne Industries… That entry point could only be *that* person.
Thorne Industries held a charity auction every year. Counting the days, this year’s charity auction was fast approaching. I found someone to get me a ticket to the auction and entered. The auction was filled with powerful figures, a world where reputation meant nothing, only profit. I seized the opportunity to find the event organizer and asked him to convey a message to Mr. Thorne. “Mr. Thorne, I’ve heard about Thorne Industries’ charity auction even in Thailand.” After that, I quietly sat in a secluded corner. Soon, someone came looking for me. Thorne Industries’ charity was merely a façade; in reality, it was deeply involved in illicit dealings in Thailand. Bodyguards escorted me into a private room. Pushing the door open, I found Mr. Thorne seated on the sofa, reading a newspaper. He looked up when he saw me. “Miss Skylar, to what do I owe this pleasure?” I replied casually: “No particular reason, I just want to make a deal with you.” He rustled his newspaper, sounding mildly interested: “I’m all ears.” Smart people don’t need many words. Especially a cunning old fox like him, who was about my father’s age. The scene shifted. I appeared in the auction hall, linked arms with Mr. Thorne. A murmur rippled through the crowd. Mr. Thorne led me to the center, took the microphone, and announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, besides today’s charity auction, I also have some wonderful news to share with you all.” “That is, Miss Skylar and I are preparing to get married.” He finished speaking, looked at me, and patted my hand. I returned his smile. Everyone applauded, but the glances they cast my way were filled with disdain. Standing on stage, my eyes still found Julian. His face was composed, but a mask of ice, a vein throbbing wildly in his neck. Of course, any man would struggle when his ex-girlfriend was about to become his stepmother. I’m sorry, Julian, but your dad simply has more power than you. To uncover the truth, that entry point could only be your father. That evening, Mr. Thorne’s car dropped me off. As soon as I reached the stairwell, I sensed someone behind me. Before I could even scream for help, a hand clapped over my mouth, and I was dragged into the shadowy corner beneath the stairs.
In the dim light, I still saw the pure fury blazing in Julian’s eyes. This time, he was truly enraged. Julian slammed me against the wall, lunging at me with primal force. He didn’t say a word, roughly tearing at me. It hurt. I fought him like a maniac, but his hand clamped over my mouth, stifling my screams. Julian was a beast, leaving his marks all over me. I bit down on his tongue until I tasted blood. At a critical moment, I used my remaining strength to grab the stun gun from my bag and pressed it down hard. “Woo-wee! Woo-wee!” The stun gun blared, drawing the attention of nearby neighbors. I seized the chance to shove him away and scrambled away, terrified. Julian was truly insane. I hadn’t provoked *him*. Couldn’t I provoke his *father* instead? Lost in thought, I suddenly noticed the painting hanging in the living room. Julian had given it to me when we were young. I looked at the artwork, and memories flooded my mind. “Julian, would you paint something for me too, please?” Julian looked helpless, pulling my hand, a troubled expression on his face: “I’m terrible at painting.” Yet, in the end, the Julian who was “terrible at painting” stayed up for nights on end to paint that picture for me. I had always cherished it. Did I truly not love him? The answer no longer mattered. I wiped away my tears. Let the past stay in the past. The most important thing now was to uncover the truth. The next day, the Thorne family car came to pick me up. I was moving into the Thorne mansion. I glanced at the painting, hesitated, but ultimately didn’t take it with me. By the time I arrived at the Thorne mansion, it was already evening. A line of household staff greeted me at the entrance. I sighed, remembering how glorious my own family had once been. To think I was now becoming someone else’s stepmom—it truly was unimaginable. Mr. Thorne and I had a contractual marriage; we wouldn’t be living together. So, I asked a maid to show me to my bedroom. As soon as I entered the room, a woody scent drifted into my nostrils. The smell was strangely familiar. It smelled like Julian. Just then, the doorknob to the ensuite bathroom turned. I jumped, startled. When I saw who emerged, I instantly turned to open the door, wanting to escape. But the door was locked.
Julian stood there, wrapped in just a towel, his sculpted body clearly visible, his wet hair dripping onto his shoulders. My back pressed against the door, my heart pounding, I immediately spoke. “Julian, this is your home. I’m your stepmom. You can’t do anything reckless!” Julian sat on the sofa, his eyes cold and filled with scorn. “Be reckless with *you*? What makes you so confident?” ??? He’d tried several times and failed, and now he was asking me what gave me confidence? I composed myself. “Good. As long as you don’t have that intention.” Just as I let out a sigh of relief, Julian’s next words nearly scared me to death. “But what if *you*, Stepmom, actively seduce me? Would that still be me acting reckless?” No sooner had he spoken than Julian stood up and walked towards me, his towel barely clinging on. He infuriated me. Words tumbled out, sharp and cruel. “You were dumped by me, and you’re still so desperate? Have some dignity!” His heart seemed to be pricked. Julian stopped approaching me. His face returned to its usual cold indifference, an almost bone-chilling coldness. He took a step forward, unlocked the door, and his voice dropped low. “Get out. Don’t let me see you.” My heart twisted with a strange ache, but I quickly scurried out. If I hadn’t found out about Thorne Industries, Julian and I would never have crossed paths again. And now, I was someone else’s stepmom. According to our agreement, I handed the evidence of the illicit dealings in Thailand to Mr. Thorne. And we had obtained a fake marriage certificate. The wedding day was lively. Besides being lively, it was also incredibly awkward. Because not only were Mr. Thorne and I getting married, but his son, Julian, also decided to join in the festivities. Julian introduced the woman in his arms to everyone, then stared at me and said, “Chloe, this is our stepmom. Say hello, Stepmom.” The woman nestled in Julian’s arms, her smile saccharine. “Hello, Stepmom.” I was so angry my teeth nearly shattered, so I retorted: “Hello, son and daughter-in-law, you both look lovely.” Julian used the wedding as an opportunity to announce his relationship with Chloe and get married himself. A knot of emotion tightened in my chest, but I had no right to say anything. On the wedding night, to avoid suspicion, I purposely went to Mr. Thorne’s bedroom. Fortunately, he had company matters to attend to that night, so I was comfortable alone in the room. Before I went to sleep, the doorknob suddenly rattled. I tensed, calling out loudly: “Mr. Thorne? Is that you?”
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