Mia was cursing up a storm, her face contorted in rage.

Zoey, dragged along by Fitch's brute strength, felt as if her arm might snap at any moment.

She stumbled behind him, nearly tripping over her own feet multiple times.

But Fitch, with his lack of chivalry, didn't bother to slow down for her.

He led her to the farthest bedroom down the hall, and kicked the door open with his long legs before tossing her onto the bed.

Zoey hit the mattress so hard that she felt her insides churn. She curled up, coughing; with her hair damp with sweat, she looked

rather pitiful.

Fitch towered over her with a sneer. "You said she had it coming?"

Zoey's mind was clouded with pain, the sense of injustice threatening to drown her. She felt like she couldn't breathe.

She was fed up, truly fed up with this sibling.

"Yes, doesn't she deserve it?"

Fitch chuckled darkly, lighting up a cigarette and bringing it to his lips.

"Zoey, I must say I underestimated you. So, you really were involved in this mess?"

Whether she admitted it or not, what difference would it make?

He would always suspect her.

She said nothing, and Fitch took her silence as confirmation.

"Nice, Zoey. I always knew that the offspring of that kind of woman wouldn't be any good. You said Mia had it coming. Now it's your

taste

tears streaming down her cheeks despite her

cigarette, Fitch called to the door,

bodyguards entered

"Sir."

Zoey on the bed; she was a bit too thin, yet still

all yours," he

eyes widened in disbelief; she

tried to sit up, and her heart was racing as she heard him continue, "Make sure

"Fitch!"

name; her lips were trembling, and her fingers were

"Don't do this."

flicking the cigarette

you think Mia had it coming? Do you know what she went through? Your stepfather tormented her for an entire day

be

imagined a thousand different scenarios

lay a hand on Mia? Didn't he know

did he get

the bed, her vision blurring

know, I

cigarette, his frosty demeanor seeming to freeze

you waiting for?" he snapped at

but these were Fitch's direct

they looked to Fitch for any sign of

leaned back against the door frame, seemingly observing the scene

"Get off! Get off!"

were futile; she hadn't eaten in days and a bout of stomach iliness

for their force; it was

grew vacant, and as one of the men moved over

You said that you'd protect me, and wouldn't

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