She reveled in it, her entire presence exuding arrogance and pride.
Finally, she strutted over to me, her head held high, and sneered:
“Do you see it now? The difference between people in this world is wider than that between man and dog. A lowly mistress like you is destined to spread your legs and beg for scraps.”
“And I, the rightful wife, get to enjoy the kind of glory you could never even dream of.”
“I’ll give you one day—take your bastard daughter and get out of this city. If I see you near my husband again, I’ll bury that brat alive!”
At those words, Emma trembled violently and buried herself in my arms.
“Mommy, I’m so scared… my foot hurts so much…”
Her voice was soaked in terror and pain.
I quickly pulled off her little leather boot, only to discover—she was missing a toe.
The wound was ghastly, the sight unbearable. Blood pooled inside the shoe, enough to pour out when I tilted it.
My heart twisted with agony, my eyes burning red. I could hardly fathom how my fragile, pain-averse daughter had endured this torment in silence until now.
I glared at Chloe, fury surging through me.
“Was this your son’s doing as well?”
She cast me a cold glance, her tone dismissive: