Chapter 4

Vivian's POV

The family would never give me any financial support.

The few tens of dollars I'd hidden in an old shoebox had been pocketed by a servant.

The remaining half pain pill had long since lost its effectiveness. My whole body felt like there was a saw going back and forth over my bones.

I searched through all my belongings. Finally, in the pocket of my innermost clothing, I felt something hard.

It was a silver pendant.

The director of the orphanage had given it to me years ago. It was the only decent thing I owned.

I tucked the pendant away and tried to slip out the back door to sell it.

"Stop right there!"

Just as I reached the door, the housekeeper blocked my way.

She looked me up and down, her gaze finally settling on my chest.

"What are you hiding there? So sneaky."

"Get out of my way."

I didn't want to waste words with her.

"Still so arrogant?"

The housekeeper sneered and reached out to grab me.

"The house has been missing things lately. I bet it's you with your sticky fingers who's been stealing!"

Her strength was surprisingly great. She yanked open my collar and pulled out the silver pendant from inside my clothes.

"Give it back!"

I lunged at her frantically.

"I knew it was stolen goods!"

The housekeeper held the pendant high, looking triumphant.

"This looks like junk. You must have stolen it from a guest room! I'm reporting this to Mr. Hayes!"

I opened my mouth and bit down hard on her wrist.

"You crazy woman!"

The housekeeper screamed. Her hand loosened and the pendant fell to the ground.

Blood seeped from the corner of my mouth as I threw myself forward and clutched the pendant tightly.

"What's going on?"

The commotion attracted Marcus and Adrian.

The two men stood on the covered walkway of the back garden, looking down at this scene from above.

"Mr. Hayes! Mr. Sterling!"

The housekeeper wailed while clutching her wrist.

"Vivian was caught stealing and she bit me!"

Marcus strode over and without a word, slapped me across the face.

I was knocked to the ground, my ears ringing, the taste of blood growing stronger in my mouth.

"Disgraceful thing."

Marcus cursed.

"You've completely humiliated this family."

Adrian slowly walked over.

He bent down and forcibly pried the silver pendant from my hand.

Looking at the mottled scratches on it, he sneered with contempt.

"For this piece of junk worth a few hundred bucks, you made yourself look like a rabid dog?"

His eyes were ice cold, as if looking at a pile of garbage.

"Are you having withdrawal symptoms, desperate for money?"

I ignored the blood at the corner of my mouth and crawled forward a few steps trying to grab it.

"Give it back... it's mine."

"Yours?"

Adrian raised an eyebrow.

"In this house, even your life belongs to me. What right do you have to talk about private property?"

With a flick of his wrist, the pendant fell into the artificial lake beside us, splashing a small spray of water.

"Want it? Go fish it out yourself."

Without thinking, I jumped right in.

The early winter lake water was ice cold and piercing.

The suffocation from lung cancer intensified the moment I entered the water. My lungs felt like they were burning and being stabbed with ice at the same time.

On the shore, Adrian and Marcus turned away in disgust.

I groped through the mud at the bottom.

My fingers were cut by sharp stones, blood threads spreading in the murky water.

As long as I could die peacefully, being a drowned dog didn't matter.

Finally, my fingertips touched something cold and hard.

I clutched it tightly and surfaced, gasping for air.

Soaking wet, I snuck out of the estate.

I dragged my body, which felt like it was filled with lead, avoiding crowds until I reached a shop on the street corner.

"This necklace is old stuff, not worth much. I'll give you five hundred bucks at most."

The shop owner glanced at the pendant and tossed it disdainfully on the counter.

"Sir, please, add a bit more..."

I was shaking all over, my teeth chattering.

"Eight hundred dollars, I only need eight hundred dollars."

I was still eight hundred dollars short of being able to purchase the sea burial service.

The owner waved his hand impatiently:

"Take it or leave it."

I touched my withered yellow hair.

"What if I sell my hair too? Can that make up five hundred dollars?"

The owner glanced at my grass-like hair, damaged from chemotherapy, and rolled his eyes:

"That trash quality wouldn't even work for wigs."

In the end, I sold the pendant.

Then I took off the cashmere coat I was wearing and sold it at a low price.

Wearing only a thin inner garment, I stood shivering in the cold wind.

In my hand I clutched eight wrinkled hundred-dollar bills.

Tomorrow morning, I would go to the funeral company to sign the contract.

Then find somewhere with no people and end all this.