Chapter 314

"Ah!"

Bianca Fairchild jolted awake, her forehead glistening with cold sweat. Beatrice Quincy's exquisitely beautiful yet twisted face loomed inches from hers.

"Sleeping well, were you?" Beatrice pinched the tender flesh on Bianca's inner arm, her nails digging deep. "I couldn't sleep all night while you snored like a hog."

Bianca clenched her teeth, not daring to make a sound. The burns on her back from last night still throbbed painfully, now compounded by this fresh torment.

"Y-young Mistress..." Her voice trembled.

Beatrice suddenly yanked her hair hard. Bianca saw stars, nearly blacking out from the pain.

"Know your place." Beatrice hissed in her ear, each word dripping with venom. "If you dare upstage me on this reality show..."

She left the threat unfinished, but Bianca knew the consequences. Her grandmother's hospital bills still depended on the Quincy family's generosity.

"I understand." Bianca lowered her head, nails biting into her palms.

Beatrice grabbed her chin, forcing eye contact. "I hear my brother is joining the show." Her lips curled into a sneer. "If I catch you near him..."

"I won't!" Bianca shook her head frantically, face ashen.

Beatrice shoved her away and smoothed her silk robe. "I'm going back to sleep. Stand right there." She glanced at the corner camera. "Face away. Don't let them notice anything."

Bianca obeyed silently. Her legs trembled from standing too long, but she didn't dare move.

Dawn light filtered through the window. The other guests would wake soon. Bianca caught her pale reflection in the mirror and nearly laughed at the absurdity.

This was her life—forever in Beatrice's shadow, where even breathing felt like a transgression.

When Beatrice rolled over, Bianca stiffened, careful not to make a sound.

"Get me water." The command came without Beatrice opening her eyes.

Bianca moved soundlessly. The water had to be the perfect temperature—a lesson learned through years of experience.

As she handed over the glass, Beatrice's eyes snapped open. "You know what I hate most about you?" She took the cup. "This pathetic obedience."

The glass shattered against the wall beside Bianca's head, spraying shards.

"Fetch another."

Kneeling to collect the fragments, Bianca nicked her fingers. The memory surfaced unbidden—that rainy night a decade ago when the Quincys took her in.

"This is your home now."

How bitterly ironic.