One was shamelessly shielding another woman; the other was wearing a subtle, triumphant smirk.

Disgusting.

Truly disgusting.

In the next second, she picked up the cake from the assistant’s hands and smashed it right into Summer’s face.

Squelch—the sound of cream landing squarely against Summer’s face echoed, followed by it sliding down like melting ice cream.

The entire place went silent.

"Ah—!" It took a full few seconds before Summer let out a piercing shriek, scrambling in a panic to wipe the cream from her face.

Her delicate, alluring smoky makeup became a grotesque, smeared mess instantly.

Realizing something, she touched her nose and let out another, even sharper scream:

"My nose! My nose!"

Flora looked closely and saw that Summer’s originally high, refined nose had actually become crooked, sticking together like a pile of silicone clay, bent to one side.

She realized in a flash—no wonder she looked almost exactly like her.

This Summer was actually a product of plastic surgery.

People around them craned their necks to watch the spectacle; shutters clicked rapidly. Summer could only wave her hands frantically, covering her face in humiliation:

"Stop filming! I told you all to stop filming!"

Julian’s face looked terrible.

She couldn't tell if it was because of his anger at Flora or because he found the scene too embarrassing.

Flora threw the ten-million-dollar check onto Summer’s face:

"This face is the most valuable thing you own, isn't it? Let this compensate you."

Julian wanted to say something, but Flora turned to give him a cold warning:

"Julian, as long as I’m not divorced from you, every cent you have is marital property. Using my money to compensate another woman—you really are a joke."

"Take your little girlfriend to get her face fixed. Ten million is enough to buy an identical one."

After she finished berating them, she felt relieved. She picked up her bag and left.

She hadn't taken two steps before a powerful force pulled her back.

4

Julian pinched her chin and sneered:

"Flora, you’ve grown quite bold."

Flora was roughly shoved into a car and forcibly sent back to the Jiang family residence for some "discipline."

Julian lowered his gaze and threatened Flora's father with a cold, indifferent tone:

"That piece of land the Jiang family has been eyeing—it will naturally be approved the moment you have disciplined your daughter properly."

He had always been like this; whenever he was even slightly dissatisfied with Flora, he would send her back to her maiden home to be "disciplined."

As for her father, ever since her mother had passed away and the stepmother had entered their lives, his affection for Flora had grown increasingly thin, leaving behind only the cold pursuit of profit.

From the very beginning, this marriage to Julian had been something she fought tooth and nail for, using herself as a bargaining chip and claiming it would bring benefits to the Jiang family, begging her father to plot it out for her.

She loved him, so she was willing to pay the price with her own life.

Flora had once been terrified of being sent home.

She feared the pain and the family punishments; she feared kneeling in the ancestral hall; she feared being called useless and being forced by her father to divorce and leave Julian.

But now, she didn't seem afraid anymore.

Julian left with the air of someone holding all the cards, leaving Flora to face her father's fury alone.

Before he could even speak, she said calmly:

"I want to divorce Julian."

She struck first, catching her father off guard, and he actually froze for a moment.

His expression shifted constantly: "What kind of crazy talk is that?"

"Once you leave the Yan family, where else are you going to find such a good son-in-law?!"

Flora smiled:

"Father, weren't you always the one harping on about me getting a divorce?"

Now that she was doing exactly what he wanted, wasn't it perfect?

Her father’s face went from pale to flushed, a mix of anger and embarrassment.

Of course she couldn't divorce; the Jiang family gained enormous benefits from this union! Bringing up divorce in the past was just to scare her into being obedient! Who let her take it seriously?

He stared malevolently at his daughter, who seemed to be spiraling out of control, and began to berate her:

"You useless thing, you can't even hold onto a man, and now you’re throwing a tantrum about divorce over such a trivial matter?"

Hearing this, Flora suddenly raised her eyes:

"You knew all along?"

About Julian having another woman on the side.

Her father paused, stuttering slightly:

"Men are all like that. You have to have one or two on the side for business dinners; it’s an unspoken rule everyone understands."

"Julian has only found one after all these years; that’s already quite good. For men of our social standing, this is perfectly normal."

Men were truly skilled at covering for one another.

Flora laughed sardonically:

"Just like you? Did you find that woman you're with now while my mother was still dying of illness?"

Her father was enraged and slapped her across the face:

"Is that how you speak to your own father? It seems you’ve forgotten the pain once the wound has healed!"

"Housekeeper," he snapped sharply. "Bring the rattan cane."

A soft rattan cane, as thick as a thumb, was presented to him. Her father flexed it in his hand, raised it, and brought it down with a vicious strike.

The cane whistled through the air as it struck. Flora squeezed her eyes shut, and a searing, white-hot pain exploded across her back.

She was stubborn to the core, clenching her teeth without letting out a single muffled groan.

Her father, blinded by rage, struck her over a dozen times until Flora collapsed onto the floor, her clothes torn and soaked in blood.

He spat on the ground and tossed the cane aside.

"Go! Drag her to the ancestral hall and make her kneel! Don't let her out until Julian's anger has subsided and he comes to collect her!"

...

The heavy doors of the ancestral hall were shut, and a lock was placed on the outside.

Her stepmother, a wolf in sheep's clothing, had pretended to be kind and "cleaned" the hall beforehand, not even leaving a cushion for her.

Flora sprawled on the cold, hard floor, her entire body aching and shivering from the cold.

Heh, she let out a cold laugh.

None of her so-called family members treated her like a human being.

Julian treated her like a piece of furniture.

Her father treated her like a tool to acquire wealth.

And her stepmother couldn't wait for her to die as far away as possible so she wouldn't have to divide the family inheritance.

Flora dug her fingernails deep into her palms, her eyes burning with bone-deep hatred.

She would not let these people go.

It wouldn't be long now. She would make them cough up every bit of the flesh and blood they had consumed, every bone they had chewed on—every last scrap.

...

Flora was locked away for three full days without anyone bringing her a single drop of water.

She was thirsty to the point of collapse, dizzy and lightheaded, so weak she could barely keep her eyes open.

Finally, on the fourth day, someone came to get her.

Several bodyguards in black suits and sunglasses dragged her out, while her father stood there with a fawning smile, bowing and scraping as he saw them off.

Flora curled up in the backseat, exhausted and semi-conscious.

It wasn't until they had driven several kilometers that she realized something was wrong.

This was not the way back to the Yan residence.

She grew vigilant; the car wasn't the one she usually used, and the bodyguards looked entirely unfamiliar.

"Where is Julian? He said he was coming to pick me up personally. Why isn't he here?"

Flora asked, keeping her tone composed.

A strange, eerie silence filled the car.

The man in the front seat let out a dry laugh:

"Madam, Mr. Yan had an urgent matter and couldn't come, so he arranged for us to pick you up and take you to see him."

Flora’s heart sank to the pit of her stomach.

She hadn't contacted Julian at all.

She reached out secretly to pull the car door, but in the next second, the locks clicked shut.

She snapped her head up and saw the man in the passenger seat turn around, grinning at her with a chilling, sinister smile.

A wet towel with a pungent, chemical smell reached out from behind, pressing tightly over her nose and mouth!

Flora’s eyes widened, but before she could struggle, a wave of intense dizziness instantly swallowed her consciousness.

5

When she woke up again, she was already lying safely in her bedroom at the Yan villa.

Flora’s head was splitting with pain, but she forced herself to sit up.