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The Scars She Hid From The World

REGINA MCBRIDE

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Modern Revenge Scheming

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When Olivia White came to her senses, she found herself wrapped in a blanket naked.

Feeling parched and weak, she knew she had been drugged.

When she looked around, she spotted a surprisingly large mirror right in front of her and a camera at the bedside.

Her heart convulsing, Olivia vaguely understood what was going on here.

As the effect of the drug kicked in, Olivia gritted her teeth to remain conscious. No, if that kind of video was shot, her life would be ruined.

There was no time for her to figure out the plotter. She struggled to get off the bed. Fortunately, the other party didn't anticipate her remaining strength and left the door unlocked.

During her work, Olivia was knocked unconscious and sent to this floor. With no clothes on, she had to wrap herself in the thin blanket and escape on bare feet. In case people would recognize her, she deliberately ruffled her hair, messed up her heavy makeup, and walked in the dark.

This clubhouse boasted abundant female and male prostitutes. The signs hanging outside the rooms stood for availability tonight. Blue signs represented men and pink women.

Olivia didn't really have the time to go to the hospital. Gritting her teeth, she made up her mind and searched the rooms with blue signs one by one.

Unfortunately, not a single soul could be found.

In desperation, she pushed open the last room at the end of the corridor. To her surprise, she found a man sitting by the window.

He turned back at the sound.

Despite the dim light, Olivia could still feel the man's sculpted features and lean figure. A perfect target.

"100 yuan for one night. What do you say?" She got straight to the point in a hoarse voice.

Ignorant of the price, she could only offer that much.

The man frowned unhappily and darted a cold look at her. Regardless of that, Olivia had to make do at such a critical moment!

She strode to the man.

"Get out." Vincent Barton opened his lips, his voice icy cold.

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