Chapter 5

I laughed bitterly to myself. Even though James didn't love me, he was still the only one in this world of wealth and status willing to save me.

Mr. Lee escorted me to another presidential suite - the one Rose used to like.

James was sitting on the couch, a smile playing on his lips as he patted the spot beside him.

"Sit," he commanded.

I approached timidly but didn't sit down.

My hand was still bleeding, the cigarette burn on the back giving off a faint smell of charred flesh.

My back was hunched, my body skeletal, with only my face retaining its outstanding beauty.

This was why my biological father had left my face untouched.

James suddenly grabbed my hand, and I instinctively tried to pull away. My back hit the couch, and I winced slightly - the wounds there hadn't healed yet.

"Is the princess still too delicate?" he asked maliciously. Then he threw some tissues across the room, as if playing with a dog. "Go fetch those and clean my shoes."

I started to get up, but he added, "On your hands and knees."

Like a puppet on strings, I dropped to my knees and crawled over to retrieve the tissues. Then I crawled back and began polishing his shoes, my face expressionless, as if I'd done this countless times before.

Seeing me like this seemed to displease James for some reason. He kicked me over and stepped on my injured hand.