Her sprained ankle kept her confined to the Pierce estate. Clara was limping around her room, packing a small suitcase, when the door was violently kicked open.

Julian stood there, his face a mask of cold fury. "Clara, why are you spreading these lies?"

Before Clara could process his words, Vivian appeared behind him, her eyes red-rimmed from crying.

"Clara, I know you hate me," Vivian sobbed, "but how could you tell the board that I killed your father and burned your lab? Everyone is saying my research is a fraud. They’re threatening to revoke my award!"

Clara’s gaze darkened as she looked at the woman. "Is it a lie if it’s the truth?"

Vivian stepped forward, grabbing Clara’s hands in a desperate grip. "Clara, please, let this go. This award is my entire life!"

Disgusted, Clara tried to wrench her hands away. The moment she moved, Vivian let go and threw herself backward, crashing to the floor.

In the next heartbeat, a brutal force shoved Clara aside. She slammed into the sharp edge of a mahogany desk, a white-hot flash of pain radiating through her spine. Cold sweat broke out across her back.

Vivian huddled in Julian’s arms, trembling. "Julian, I just wanted her to forgive me... I don't know why she attacked me!"

Julian shielded Vivian, his eyes burning with contempt as he looked at Clara. "You’ll stop at nothing to get what you want, will you? Publicly slandering her and now physical assault... How did you become so monstrous, Clara?"

Monstrous.

The word was a poisoned blade, twisting in the remains of her heart.

"The person who stops at nothing to get what they want..." Clara rasped, "is standing right in front of me."

Julian’s jaw tightened. He signaled to the guards at the door. "Clara Joy has assaulted a member of this family. She needs to learn respect."

"Take her to the discipline room. Ninety-nine lashes."

The Pierce Code was a brutal tradition. Julian had once endured those same ninety-nine lashes to bring Clara into this house, a sacrifice that had taken him a month to recover from.

Clara looked up at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. "My name is Joy, Julian. I am not a Pierce. You have no right to subject me to your family's laws."

Julian’s rage flared even brighter. "Make it a hundred and nine."

He turned his back on her, leaving the guards to drag Clara away like a common criminal.

The whip cracked against Clara’s fragile skin, each strike tearing through her muscle and spirit. The pain was so absolute it transcended the physical, plunging her into a living hell.

By the time the final lash fell, Clara’s back was a gruesome tapestry of torn flesh and blood. Memories of her life—the laughter with her father, the first time Julian had smiled at her—flickered like dying embers in her mind.

As she began to lose consciousness, a blurry figure burst into the room.

Julian stared at the broken, blood-soaked girl in his arms, his composure finally shattering. A raw sense of panic flooded his chest.

"Clara... what am I going to do with you?" he whispered, his voice trembling with a hint of desperation.

Clara forced her eyes open one last time. Her gaze was as sharp as broken glass. "The ninety-nine lashes you took for me, Julian... I’ve just paid them back. We’re even now. I owe you nothing."

With those final words, she surrendered to the darkness.

When she woke, the air smelled of sterile chemicals and sharp disinfectant. Clara tried to sit up but was immediately pulled into a familiar embrace.

"Clara, you’re finally awake! You’ve been in a coma for a week!"

Clara pushed Julian away with cold, clinical precision. "Guardian, please. Maintain your distance."

The word "Guardian"—so formal and distant—froze the smile on Julian’s face. He couldn't remember the last time she hadn't called him by his name or some term of endearment. The vibrant, sun-drenched girl who used to follow him everywhere felt like a ghost from another life.

"I won't dwell on the past anymore," Julian said, suppressed anger simmering in his voice. "Vivian and I are getting married soon. She will be your elder. Show her the respect she deserves."

Clara nodded blankly. "I understand. I will keep your teachings in mind,

Uncle

."

Julian felt a sudden, inexplicable hollow in his chest. It felt as if something vital was slipping through his fingers, vanishing into the ether.

It took Clara half a month to be discharged. Her first stop wasn't the Pierce estate, but the new lab Julian had built for her. She needed her files.

As she entered, her old professor approached her, holding a formal-looking envelope.

"Clara, you’re just in time. This came from the Anatomy Research Lab. They wanted to thank you again for donating your father’s body for research six years ago."

The world seemed to stop. A deafening roar filled Clara’s ears. She stared at the donor agreement in the professor's hand.

The name of the deceased:

Thomas Joy

. The donor's signature:

Julian Pierce

.

She remembered Julian handing her the cremation certificate six years ago. She remembered him comforting her while she clutched an urn full of ashes.

Her heart felt as if it were being shredded by invisible claws. Gasping for air, Clara stumbled out of the lab and drove toward the Pierce mansion. She needed the truth.

As she ran into the courtyard, she saw Julian’s wolfdog dragging something across the grass—a grey, waterlogged piece of meat. The dog nudged it with its snout, looking disgusted by the scent.

A sickening dread settled in Clara's stomach. Her voice shook as she pointed at the animal. "What... what is that dog eating?"

Vivian stood up from the patio sofa, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips.

"Oh, that? My dog has developed a strange obsession with the smell of formaldehyde lately," Vivian said casually. "Julian was kind enough to find him a piece of specimen meat that’s been soaking in a jar for six years to play with."