Chapter 4

Of course I refused to kneel.

I hadn’t done anything wrong. Why should I?

When I didn’t obey, Mr. Hawthorne walked over and struck the backs of my knees with the switch.

My injuries from earlier hadn’t healed. My legs gave out, and I collapsed.

He whipped me with the switch, each blow sending tearing pain through my wounds.

“Do you admit you were wrong?”

I knelt on the floor without speaking.

That only made him angrier. He struck me even harder.

I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

Eventually, Mrs. Hawthorne seemed unable to watch any longer. She caught his arm.

“Don’t waste your energy on this disappointment. Luckily, we still have Ethan. We can leave Hawthorne Group to him.”

But Mr. Hawthorne only gave her a meaningful look and said nothing.

He strode away, leaving me on my knees.

Ethan had watched the whole thing. His fists were clenched, and his gaze was colder than ever.

I put a hand against the wall and tried to get up, but Ethan suddenly stepped on my other hand and shouted,

“Why? I’m the son they raised for eighteen years! Does none of that matter compared to some rich family’s precious bloodline?”

I smiled.

To these people, gender mattered just as much as blood.

But soon, I would crush Mr. Hawthorne’s last little hope myself.

Mrs. Hawthorne gently wrapped her arms around Ethan and comforted him.

“Sweetheart, your birthday is the day after tomorrow. Let’s get everything ready. We’ll find a way to change your father’s mind.”

Ethan’s birthday party arrived soon enough.

The Hawthornes belonged to the city’s elite. Along with friends and family, plenty of reporters attended.

Ethan stood in the center of the stage in a tailcoat, looking like a prince from a fairy tale.

I sat in a corner wearing a suit that hadn’t been altered in time.

The story of my first-day expulsion had caused a sensation, and I quickly became the center of the gossip.

Several reporters secretly snapped pictures of me.

“That’s him. The one who steals girls’ underwear. So young, and already rotten. What a shame.”

“So what if he’s their biological son? If you ask me, Ethan’s the one who deserves to inherit.”

The rumors kept buzzing around me.

I grew irritated and went upstairs alone to find somewhere to rest.

Suddenly, someone clamped an ether-soaked towel over my mouth.

I couldn’t move my limbs. All I could do was fight to stay conscious.

Through the haze, I saw Lucas throw me onto a bed.

A little later, Ethan came in, fresh from the spotlight downstairs.

He took off his custom suit jacket as he walked toward me, smiling maliciously.

“I don’t have a choice. If I want Mom and Dad to give up on you for good, I’ll have to make a little sacrifice.”

As he spoke, Lucas slipped out.

Ethan stripped naked, then scratched bloody marks across his own neck and chest.

When he was finished, he stared down at me, helpless on the bed, and grinned. “After all, you’re the one who forced yourself on me. Don’t blame me for what happens next!”

Then he ripped my pants open, tearing my skin in the process.

When he saw what I was wearing underneath, his eyes widened, and he screamed.

At that moment, a group of reporters burst through the door with cameras and microphones.

Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne hurried in behind them, pushing through the crowd.

But when they saw the scene on the bed, everyone froze.