Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom

Chapter 407

Everyone says I'm cold by nature, impossible to get close to.

But what they don't know is that before I turned five, I was a cheerful, outgoing child who loved to talk and laugh.

Whether I was at school or at home, I was always the center of attention, the kid everyone liked.

Everything changed after my mother died. My father brought his mistress into the house-boldly, shamelessly—and from that moment on, I became a different person. Quiet. Withdrawn. The brightness in me faded, replaced by a dark cloud that never really left.

Back then, I was too young to hide my feelings, too honest to pretend. I acted, spoke, and reacted according to whatever I felt inside.

If I felt even the slightest bit upset, I'd lash out at my father's mistress without holding back.

Once, I even pushed her down the stairs-she lost the baby she was carrying.

I was just a child, but I threatened her with a knife once, saying, "I'm a minor. Even if I killed you, I wouldn't go to jail."

She hated me for it. Hated me so much she probably dreamed of killing me herself.

At first, she thought dealing with a five-year-old would be easy. She never expected I'd use my age as a shield, or that I could be so terrifying, even as a child.

After that day with the knife, she was so afraid of me that every time we crossed paths, she'd freeze, trembling like a mouse confronted by a cat.

father was afraid of me. He knew I wasn't just making threats-I really meant it.

simply following my instincts, doing whatever it took

I would drag them down with me, even

resolve, that kept my stepmother from ever laying

my sharp edges. I became more reserved, learned

I was

only I knew the truth:

mistress, terrified of me as a child, became

on like

is, until I came to Cresthaven and met the most

life-

She changed everything.

time I saw her-how deep

fragile, her skin pale as snow. She looked so delicate, as if the lightest breeze could knock her

guessed, in that moment, how our lives would become so tangled. I

she was in trouble-bruised, battered, struggling

always been cold, especially toward women. I

But Claire was different.

luck, or maybe it was just something about her that made me feel

of pity grew into a burning need to know

finally