On the day of my wedding to Dominic Thorne, he called the police and personally sent me to prison. Three years later, he personally came to pick me up. He stood before me, his voice coiling around my ears like a malevolent ghost: “Anya Vance, how was your time inside?” My whole body trembled, and I didn’t dare look up. Until he slowly crept closer, his body brushing mine like a phantom: “Don’t rush. It’s not over yet!” Later, I endured his endless torment until I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, collapsing in a pool of blood, taking my last breath. But Dominic, the man who had sought to destroy me, clung to me like a madman, sobbing, “Anya, I was wrong. Can you please look at me again?” The day I was released, a heavy snow fell across the city. The moment the iron gate creaked open, a bone-chilling wind howled, and I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, the warmth quickly stolen from my body. I stumbled out, my steps unsteady, the surroundings utterly silent, save for the soft whisper of falling snowflakes. Standing by the gate, all I saw was a blanket of pristine white. Behind me, the prison guard’s voice faded in and out, barely audible, only Dominic Thorne’s name reaching my ears in a blur. Dominic Thorne… Dominic Thorne… I mumbled his name under my breath, my steps faltering as I instinctively veered to the right. And then, I unexpectedly collided with a cold, hard chest. A dull ache flared on my forehead. I tapped it, then looked up, instantly meeting a familiar face. It was too clear, and my mind went blank for a second. I rubbed my eyes, but he was still there. The guard’s words, spoken just moments ago, suddenly pieced together in my mind. “Anya Vance, just stay by the gate and don’t leave. Mr. Dominic Thorne will come to pick you up.” Dominic Thorne. It was him! The man who had personally sent me to prison three years ago now stood before me again. My body trembled. I dared not make another move. I was terrified he would kick me to the ground like he did three years ago, then drag me straight back to hell. The prison was behind me. I couldn’t go back inside. Dominic seemed satisfied with my terrified reaction. I stood in the snow, dressed in a thin jacket, frozen stiff. Dominic had been staring at me for so long that my limbs were numb and my entire body was shaking. But I still didn’t dare move. After a long silence, Dominic seemed to lose his patience and finally spoke. “Anya Vance, how was your time inside?” He stood before me, his voice, like a malevolent spirit, coiled around my ears. My whole body trembled, and I didn’t dare look up. For three years, that voice had haunted my nightmares every single day, impossible to shake off. I tried my best to curl myself up, to minimize my presence in front of Dominic, hoping he would lose interest and just let me go. Until he slowly crept closer, his body brushing mine like a phantom: “Don’t rush. It’s not over yet!” That single, airy sentence almost made me collapse onto the ground.
Like a puppet, I was lifted by Dominic into the car and taken back to his mansion. I had thought about hiding, about escaping, but looking into Dominic’s terrifying eyes, and remembering my three years inside, I knew that no matter how deep I hid or how far I ran, I probably couldn’t escape his grasp. Besides, I still had my family. Dominic was ruthless. If I truly escaped, my family would suffer the consequences. Numbly, I followed Dominic into the Thorne residence. It was a place I once knew so intimately, but now it made me flinch and hang back. All the maids and housekeepers at the Thorne residence were new faces. Of course. After what happened three years ago, they had stood by me and spoken up for me. Dominic, incandescent with rage, had fired them all long ago. Clutching the corner of my jacket, I cowered by the entrance, like a starving beggar. Dominic paused while changing his shoes, scrutinizing me with a peculiar gaze. As if remembering something, he suddenly pulled me close. “Anya Vance, get my shoes.” I recalled saying those very words to him once. But back then, our relationship was good. Mostly, I’d tease, and he’d just smile. I didn’t dare disobey. I bent down, half-kneeling on the floor, took out his slippers, and put them on him. Dominic scoffed softly, then paid me no mind, going straight to the living room sofa. I hesitated for a few seconds, then changed into the housekeeper’s slippers and followed him in. An older maid came forward to ask him how he wanted me arranged. Dominic shot a disdainful glance my way. “Whatever.” It was like casually discarding a trifle he didn’t care about. I clenched my fists, but still gathered my courage, stuttering, “Mr. Dominic… when can I leave here?” As if he’d heard a joke, Dominic suddenly stood up, looking down on me. “You want to leave?” “I told you, don’t rush!” “Anya Vance, you don’t actually think I’m joking, do you?” I looked up, meeting his cold eyes. For a moment, I suddenly wanted to explain what happened three years ago all over again. The words I was about to say were abruptly cut off by a sweet, gentle female voice. “Dominic, you’re back.”
That voice was too familiar. I said nothing more, looking up towards the stairs. Willow Shaw now looked radiant with happiness, a stark contrast to the timid girl she used to be. I watched her, carefully holding the banister as she stepped slowly, one step at a time, towards Dominic. As if she were the lady of the house, she feigned surprise: “Dominic, who is this?” Though her tone was soft, her eyes stared at me like a venomous snake. A wave of terror washed over me, and I stood frozen to the spot, chilled to the bone. After Dominic sent me to prison three years ago, she would come to visit me. Each time she left, I would face even harsher retaliation. I was kicked so hard that three of my ribs broke. As I lay on the ground, bloody and barely clinging to life, the triumphant voices of those thugs echoed in my ears: “You deserve to die, you bitch! How dare you steal from others?!” “Pah! Look at yourself, you trash!” Later, Dominic had those people send another message. “Stay there and reflect. Don’t make it easy for her.” Those painful memories felt like yesterday; the scabs on my body throbbed faintly. I tugged hard at my sleeve, and cold sweat beaded on my forehead. Dominic’s gaze was entirely on Willow, his voice gentle and considerate as he asked, “Why are you down here? Shouldn’t you rest a bit longer?” They were too intimate in front of me. I had expected to care, to feel pain, but after three years, I no longer craved Dominic’s attention. I cowered to the side, my mind a blur. The maid came over to ask Dominic about me. She glanced at Dominic and Willow, then cautiously asked, “Mr. Thorne, everything is ready. This young lady…” My face was ghostly pale. I almost collapsed, but the maid beside me steadied me. Dominic’s face instantly darkened, his tone angry: “Take her. No special treatment!” Dominic emphasized those last few words heavily. I forced myself to stay upright, circled around him, and followed the maid out. Willow seemed to be waiting deliberately, staring at me with a hateful gaze. “Anya Vance, how dare you show your face here!” I never understood why she harbored such intense animosity towards me. Our relationship hadn’t been that bad before. Until she approached me in the darkness and threatened: “You’d better behave yourself and not get any ideas. Otherwise, I don’t know what worse things Dominic will do to you because of our child!”
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