Damien grew even angrier and kicked me hard. "Vivian, are you deliberately putting on this pitiful act just to disgust me?"
"I only sent you to the Women's Virtue Class. Was it necessary to turn into this?"
Curled up on the floor, I sobbed and cried out, "Don’t hit me, don’t hit me, please… I’ll do anything you say, just don’t hit me…"
Damien froze in shock.
He grabbed my wrist, his expression dark. "Vivian, do they beat you here often?"
Before I could answer his question, my mentor, who had been standing by the side, hurried forward in panic.
She stepped over and said with a strained smile, "Mr. Montclair, you must have misunderstood."
"Our Women's Virtue Class has always focused on nurturing virtue."
"We treat every student here like our own child. How could we possibly lay a hand on them?"
Damien shoved her aside impatiently.
He lifted my clothes, urgently checking for injuries.
What he saw was smooth, unblemished skin.
There was not a scar, not even the slightest redness or swelling.
Upon seeing this, Damien’s face twisted in anger. "Vivian, you’re becoming more and more ridiculous."
I cried.
When I first arrived at the Women's Virtue Class, the mentor ordered me to accompany the guests.