Chapter 4

Megan smashed a bottle that had been sitting on the table, her lips curling into a cruel smile.

"Bitch, come pick up these shards," she ordered. "And use your hands only."

I walked forward without protest or resistance. Obediently, without a hint of the anger a normal person would feel, I bent down to pick up the broken glass.

Her high heel came down on my hand, driving the glass shards into my palm. Blood dripped onto the floor.

I didn't cry out in pain. I just endured it silently.

My hand was a mess - a cigarette burn on the back, cuts and blood on the palm, fingers permanently bent and ugly.

Megan laughed derisively.

"Oh Charlotte, Charlotte," she taunted. "You couldn't escape, and now your hand is ruined too."

Seeing that I remained silent, Megan slapped me hard across the face.

I fell to the ground from the force of it, my right cheek stinging. But it was nothing compared to what I'd endured over the past few years.

"You've got the face of a whore," Megan snarled. "I'll do you a favor and destroy it!"

She suddenly flew into a rage, grabbing a piece of broken bottle and aiming for my face.

For a moment, I felt a sense of relief. If my face was ruined, maybe my life would actually improve.

But the glass never touched my skin. A voice spoke up from behind me.

"Miss Coleman, the CEO sent me to fetch you."

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. It was James's assistant.

I turned around, but even this potential salvation couldn't bring any life back to my empty eyes. I looked like a person on the brink of death.

Because I knew James hated me.

But still, a tiny spark of hope flickered in my chest.

Nothing could be worse than the daily abuse and torture that made me wish for death. Even if James was leading me into the depths of hell, I would go willingly.