Chapter 4

Eleanor Blackwood sighed deeply, her eyes filled with regret.

“Seraphina, our family has wronged you terribly. I will handle all the divorce proceedings. However, I have one last, difficult request.”

“Could you… wait until Caleb’s surgery is done before leaving?”

She seemed to realize the unfairness of her plea and quickly added:

“Just three days. I’m afraid if he wakes up and finds you gone, he’ll become unstable and refuse the surgery.”

I looked at her pleading expression, silent for a long moment.

In the end, my soft heart prevailed, and I nodded.

“I was wrong. You are a good girl, and I shouldn’t have forced you to endure more suffering by Caleb’s side.”

As she spoke, Eleanor took off her necklace and placed it in my palm.

The rose-shaped pendant glowed with a faint pink luminescence as it touched my skin.

“This is the only untainted seed from the ravaged world, infused with half a lifetime of my own abilities. With it, you can cultivate your own powers and nurture many plants now thought extinct. I believe in your hands, it will unleash its true value.”

“In three days, I will send people to escort you to a safe place. Go far away this time, where no one can ever harm you again.”

Eleanor caressed the back of my hand. My nose stung, and tears welled in my eyes.

It was like a child, long enduring pain in silence, finally breaking down. Without anyone to care, they bite their lip and hold on. But once someone shows concern, the brave facade crumbles, and a torrent of suppressed sorrow overwhelms them.

Exhausted from crying, I drifted into sleep. Somewhere in the hazy depths of my slumber, a powerful force yanked at my wrist.

Caleb’s furious voice ripped through my ears:

“Seraphina Sterling, you dared to complain to Grandmother? You truly never learn, do you? Did you forget how I warned you last time?!”

Caleb violently dragged me from the bed, throwing me onto the cold floor.

My stomach slammed against the sharp corner of a chair, and a soft groan escaped my lips.

Caleb, consumed by his rage, simply pointed a furious finger at me:

“No one is allowed to bring her food! Spend these next few days reflecting on what you’ve done!”

In the past, I would have meekly obeyed, apologizing and trying to explain.

But now, I felt like a still pool of water, my voice utterly devoid of emotion: “Do with me what you will.”

Caleb’s eyes suddenly darkened. My attitude had clearly enraged him.

He then scoffed, a cold sneer on his face:

“You really think acting like this will make me go easy on you?”

No one knew Caleb’s methods of torment better than I did.

The first time, Isabelle had deliberately provoked me at a dinner party.

I lost my temper, spilling wine over her head. Before she could lunge, I slapped her hard across the face.

The next second, Caleb’s face went cold. He barked at me to kneel, then grabbed my neck, slamming my head against the nearby fish tank.

Water streamed over me, soaking my clothes, and a large shard of glass lodged itself deep in my thigh.

I was a pathetic, trembling mess.

Caleb stood by, watching with cold indifference, refusing to let anyone approach me.

I struggled in the pile of broken glass for what felt like an eternity, unable to move.

Finally, biting back a scream, I ripped the glass from my flesh, slowly pushing myself upright.

Blood gushed from the wound. The zombie fish on the floor, driven into a frenzy by the scent of blood, thrashed and snapped at me.

In my panic, I tried to swat them away, only to stumble and fall heavily back onto the shattered glass.

Caleb and Isabelle’s mocking laughter echoed in my ears.

From that day forward, no matter how Isabelle humiliated me, I endured it in silence.

Caleb’s face loomed closer, that familiar, cruel smile close enough to touch.

His cold breath ghosted my neck.

“Your pain is my stimulant.”

“From now on, you’d better pray hard. My legs will be restored after surgery, and then we can continue our little games.”

He spoke with a tone of smug triumph and eager anticipation.

His smile twisted into something increasingly sinister as he stared at my eyes, expecting to see the fearful, cowering look he so enjoyed.

Instead, my expression was lifeless, my eyes vacant.

This clearly bored him. He dropped his smile, turned his wheelchair, and left.

As his silhouette vanished through the doorway, I softly uttered:

“Caleb, there will be no ‘after’ for us.”