Chapter 1

For a decade, I loved my stepbrother, Julian Sterling.

When I finally found the courage to confess my feelings, he berated me and called me shameless.

"You’re just like your mother—a cheap flirt."

He personally sent me to a mental hospital, telling me I needed to "reflect on my actions."

Every day, I was beaten black and blue. They locked me in a dark room and stripped me of my clothes, all because Julian told them to "fix my brain."

Finally, my mind was "cured."

But he went mad.

He knelt before me, begging for my love.

I recoiled from his touch and fell into another’s arms.

"Julian Sterling, your love is disgusting."

The day I left Crestwood Psychiatric Hospital, someone was waiting for me.

It was Julian, my stepbrother—the one who sent me there in the first place.

In the misty drizzle, Julian leaned against his car with a cigarette dangling between his fingers. His handsome face looked weary, and his head was bowed.

During countless nights in the hospital, I had prayed he would come for me. But now, looking at him, my heart was as still as a dead lake.

"You’ve lost weight?"

Julian stamped out his cigarette and approached. He eyed my oversized hospital gown and frowned. "What, are you still a picky eater even in here?"

I mumbled, "I..."

"Enough excuses. You never change," he cut me off, irritated. "Get in. Mother and Dad are back from Europe tonight. We’re having dinner."

I opened the car door and slumped into the backseat, completely deflated.

I wanted to explain that it wasn't pickiness. They had starved me, locked me up, put a collar on me, and made me fight dogs for scraps. I hadn’t eaten a proper meal in ages.

Julian drove off. When we arrived, I gazed at the grand Sterling mansion, feeling like a stranger in a familiar place.

Three years ago, my best friend Chloe Mercer urged me to confess to Julian. Then she posted a video of my confession online, sparking a massive scandal.

Dad said I had humiliated the family. Mother sobbed and hit me with her purse, calling me an ungrateful wretch.

Julian tore my love letter to shreds in public. "You’re as shameless as your mother," he sneered, "only good for seducing men. A filthy flirt."

The day the Sterlings forced me into the asylum, the gray clouds wept a pale, heavy rain.

I had knelt before Julian, sobbing. "Please, brother, don't send me there."

He kicked my hand away like I was a cockroach. Wiping his pant leg with a tissue, his face twisted in disgust. "Get her inside," he ordered.

"Disgusting," he added. "Fix your brain in there. Learn what shame is. I’ll come for you when you’ve reflected on what you've done."

Now, standing in the mansion in my blue-and-white hospital gown, I looked entirely out of place.

Mr. Higgins, the butler, approached. His eyes held pity as he took in my gaunt face. "Miss Clara, let’s take your luggage up to the second floor."

"Second floor?" I frowned. "Isn’t my room on the third?"

He hesitated, and I immediately understood. This house no longer had a place for me.

I gave a bitter smile. "Fine, the second floor it is."

In my new room, I unpacked my meager belongings: a few items of clothing and a plush puppy.

The puppy was a gift from a madwoman at the hospital. She had lost her child years ago, lost her mind, and jumped off a cliff. She survived and washed ashore, but her sanity was gone forever.

She would cradle the puppy, rocking it back and forth with the sunlight on her face, her expression holy and tender. "Baby, don’t cry. Mommy loves you."

I would sneak to her room and peek through the door just to watch her.

If only she were my mother. She would have loved me so much.

I hugged the puppy to my chest, whispering, "They all abandoned me. Please don’t leave me too."

A voice called out from the door. "Miss Clara, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling are back."

I woke up groggily, rubbed my eyes, and changed into some casual clothes. My face was pale as I made my way down the stairs.

The dining room glowed with warm light. Dad and Mother were already seated at the table.

I took a deep breath and spoke respectfully. "Mother, Mr. Sterling."

Dad ignored me, his expression entirely cold.

Mother forced a smile. "Clara, you’re back."

"Yes. Mr. Sterling, Mother, I’ve thought a lot over these past few years. I know what to say and do now."

Mother sighed in relief. "Your brother is bringing his girlfriend for dinner tonight," she said cautiously.

"I understand, Mother. I won’t overstep again," I said, offering a soft smile.

Mother beamed, clearly reassured. "Clara has finally grown up."

"That’s a proper Sterling daughter—ethical and disciplined. Behave yourself from now on," Dad finally said, taking the opportunity to lecture me.

They had always treated me like a thief, terrified I would somehow steal their precious son.

Even my own mother.

Dear Mother, I’m your daughter. Why can’t you love me more?

I remembered my first day at the Sterling mansion. I was ten years old, hiding behind Mother. She yanked me forward, saying, "This is your new dad."

I called him Dad, but he just stared at me coldly, his disdain subtle but present. I was too young to fully understand, but I could feel that he didn’t like me.

"Don’t call me Dad. I’m not your father," he had said.

It was true. My real dad was dead.

My biological father used to call me a bastard, but this new one simply ignored my existence.

In this house, I was invisible. As long as they didn’t let me starve, they considered that their greatest kindness.

Julian, on the other hand, basked in everyone’s praise and love.

I lurked in the shadows, quietly watching his happiness.

Whenever he won first place at school, Mother would ruffle his hair, and Dad would hoist him up, laughing, "That’s my boy!"

They always made time to take him to amusement parks and bought him toy racecars.

Did getting first place mean you were worthy of being loved?

I started studying like a maniac, working day and night. But when I finally showed Mother my own first-place certificate, she just sighed. "What’s the point? You’ll just get married someday."

"Look at me—I married your stepfather, and now I have this life."

Getting first place wasn’t the key to happiness after all.

That night, I tore my certificates to pieces, sobbing alone in my room.

Julian climbed in through my balcony. He picked up a shredded piece of paper and smirked. "No matter how hard you try, it’s useless."

"You need to please me."

"Only I can help you."