Chapter 4

I grabbed my child's photo from the fire with my bare hands and raised my hand to slap her again.

Before I could say anything, Nathan appeared from behind, grabbed my collar, and yanked me backward.

"The moment I'm not around, you target Winnie like this. Who gave you the nerve? Look at yourself—what makes you think you're worthy of touching even one hair on her head?"

Winnie spoke up to explain.

"Nathan, don't blame her. I should have told her before disposing of those useless things. She was right to slap me twice. If she's still not satisfied, she can slap me as many times as she wants. I won't blame her."

Nathan softened his tone and quickly walked over to Winnie.

His hand gently touched her face, his voice full of affection—completely different from the disgust he showed me.

"You've always been too soft. You're born to be bullied. I've told you before—if someone hits you, hit them back. But you never listen. Now look what's happened—any random person thinks they can push you around."

Nathan turned and shouted at a bodyguard.

The guard immediately stepped forward and pinned me down.

My knees hit the ground.

Looking up, I could see Nathan holding Winnie's hand, his eyes dark and menacing as he stared at me.

"She hit you, so you hit her back. Hit her hard. Don't be afraid—I'm here. I'll teach you how to deal with this kind of bitch."

He controlled Winnie's hand and slapped it hard across my cheek.

The burning pain spread from my face to my temples.

He was about to do it again when Winnie pulled her hand away, her voice sickeningly sweet.

"Nathan, forget it. Hitting her hurts my hand. She's not worth dirtying my hands over."

Nathan immediately took her hand with concern and shouted at the servants.

"What are you standing around for? Get some ice packs for her hand!"

Then he glanced at me with even more disgust and ordered someone to drag me to the basement and lock me up.

For a full day and night, they gave me nothing to eat and didn't give me my psychiatric medication either.

My condition developed after losing my first child, compounded by prolonged work stress.

Without my medication on schedule, I became dizzy and disoriented.

My whole body went weak.

My mind was filled with images of my children.

The sound of high heels clicked on the basement stairs.

I didn't need to guess—it was Winnie.

She stood before me with an air of superiority, like a peacock, playing with my pill bottle in her hand.

"I came specially to bring you your medicine. Looking at you now, you must be suffering, right?"

Winnie sneered.

"You need to apologize for those two slaps yesterday. If I'm satisfied, I'll give you this medicine. Otherwise, you can wait here until the pain drives you insane."

I bit my lip, tasting blood in my mouth.

"In your dreams!"

I gathered all my strength and lunged forward to grab the pill bottle, but lacking the strength, I lost my balance and fell onto Winnie.

My hands clutched desperately at her arms, my only thought to get the medicine back.

Winnie screamed in fright and pushed hard against me.

I held on tight, refusing to let go.