Esther’s eyes widened with terror, and she struggled desperately as Bradley gripped her jaw firmly. He was domineering and insane, commanding her, “Swallow it!”

The taste of buttercream filled Esther’s mouth, but instead of sweetness, she tasted nothing but the metallic tang of blood.

Bradley began smearing the blood-looking cream all over her face.

He warned, “Esther, remember this. I’m only merciful once. If there’s a next time, you’ll watch as her hand is cut off and delivered to you.”

Nausea churned in Esther’s stomach. She didn’t care that Bradley was still there and knelt down to vomit nearby.

Now she understood that the severed hand from earlier wasn’t real—it was a creation by a cake artist. Despite its artificial nature, the fear it had instilled made her scalp tingle, and she felt the pain as if she were truly being tortured.

Bradley paid no attention to Esther’s agony. He turned to Sally and declared, “You’re fired.”

“Mr. Warner, I’m sorry…”

losing such a well-paying job

came forward. They carried Sally and the bloodied

hair as he stood up and ordered curtly, “Now that the servant is gone, you’ll be

looked at Bradley anxiously, unable to believe he would let

up, then

“Yes,” Esther replied hoarsely.

severed hand still haunted her heart. She stood up and walked into the villa. Despite walking on solid ground,

use the bathroom on the third

“Okay.”

She pushed open the bathroom door and felt a surge of sadness when she looked at her reflection in the

severed hand rushed back, and she dared

she emerged from the bathroom, she found a set of maid’s clothes outside the door. The uniform, a pure black shirt-style dress, seemed tailor-made for her, fitting her shoulders,

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