Chapter 3

The next afternoon, the basement's iron door was kicked open with a bang.

Laura burst in with her suited sugar daddy.

Her friend Isabella followed aggressively behind them.

"Smack!"

A visa rejection letter was thrown in my face by Laura.

"You poisonous old witch! Are you satisfied now?! My visa's been revoked! I'm banned from entering the UK for three years!"

Laura pointed at my nose, her eyes bloodshot.

"You're bottom-feeding trash rotting in the mud—fine! But why do you have to drag me down with you!"

Isabella beside her covered her nose, her face full of disgust as she fanned the flames.

"Exactly! Laura accepted Mr. Osman as her daddy. She was going to become a real lady of status."

"You're just jealous that Mr. Osman has more money than you, so you sabotaged her, didn't you? You poverty-stricken lunatic!"

Mr. Osman stood with his belly protruding, looking down at my room condescendingly.

He pulled a stack of cash from his briefcase and threw it on the table.

"Ten thousand pounds. Go to the UK embassy and withdraw your report. Tell them you were having a psychotic episode and talking nonsense."

Mr. Osman flicked ash from his cigar, his tone arrogant.

"Women are so short-sighted. Your daughter will live the high life with me. You should be grateful."

I looked at the ten thousand pounds on the table and laughed coldly.

"Mr. Osman is so generous."

Then I raised my head and stared at Laura.

"She paid someone to take her exams for her."

"Mr. Osman, you don't really think Laura's a genius, do you?"

"Are you sure she can bring you any value if she goes abroad?"

Laura's expression changed drastically. She screamed in humiliation and rage:

"Shut up! Daddy, don't listen to this crazy woman's nonsense!"

She looked around frantically, then suddenly spotted the passbook I'd placed under my pillow.

It was my severed finger injury compensation!

"What's this?!"

Laura's eyes lit up. She pounced over and snatched the passbook.

Opening it, her eyes went wide.

"Three hundred thousand?! You've been hiding three hundred thousand from me!"

She reached under the pillow and pulled out my ID card, viciously stuffing it into her own pocket.

"Is the password my birthday? Even if you don't tell me, I'll figure it out!"

My expression changed. I rushed forward to grab it back.

"Give it back! That's my severed finger compensation! That's my lifeline!"

"What do you mean YOUR money? You ruined my dream of going abroad—consider this compensation for my emotional distress!"

Laura clutched the passbook and ID card, backing away self-righteously.

I lunged and grabbed her wrist, but she yanked hard.

My freshly bandaged right hand slammed heavily into the iron bed frame. The wound hadn't healed at all yet.

"Rip—"

Sharp pain instantly spread from my fingertips. The gauze was stained red with blood, dripping onto the cement floor.

I collapsed to my knees in pain, my whole body convulsing uncontrollably.

"Oh please, are you trying to scam us?" Isabella rolled her eyes from the side.

Osman snorted coldly and gave a look.

His two bodyguards immediately stepped forward and roughly shoved me against the wall, escorting Laura out.

"Mom, I'm taking this three hundred thousand."

"You can just rot in this moldy basement and fend for yourself!"

Laura waved the passbook and ID card, linked arms with Osman, and strutted away in her high heels.

I lay in my own blood, watching their retreating figures, biting my lip until I tasted blood.

Laura, since you're going to be so ruthless, don't blame me for being merciless.