Chapter 3

Blood stained the floor red. Amelia winced in pain but stayed silent.

Edmund, about to leave, started toward her when he saw the scene. His gaze flicked to his watch, and he stopped.

"I'll call an ambulance to take you to the hospital," he said.

The faint hope in Amelia's heart vanished. As Edmund reached the door, she called out. "I want you to take me to the hospital yourself. What could be more important than your fiancée's safety? If it's company business, I can tell you to ignore it."

Edmund looked at her, puzzled. She rarely spoke to him like this.

"Amelia, don't act like a spoiled heiress. Wait for the ambulance," he replied.

He turned and left without hesitation. As the door closed, Amelia smiled, a single tear falling.

He often said that phrase. She once thought he disliked the bad habits of rich girls. Now she realized he simply thought she didn't deserve to be a Hopewell heiress.

By morning, Amelia's wound was treated at the hospital.

She rushed home and saw Rosalyn holding her father's urn.

"What are you doing?" Amelia demanded.

Rosalyn smirked cruelly and let go of the urn.

Amelia ran forward, but it was too late. Her father's ashes shattered across the floor.

Fury surged. Amelia slapped Rosalyn's face.

As she raised her hand again, a harder slap struck her first.

Amelia fell, her stitched wound splitting open. Blood soaked her sleeve.

Edmund didn't seem to notice. He shielded Rosalyn, gazing at her reddened cheek with concern.

"I told you not to come. He found his real daughter and threw you out. He doesn't deserve your visit," he said to Rosalyn.

Only then did he turn to Amelia, his eyes icy.

"Amelia, Rosalyn lost everything to you. She just wanted to pay respects to the man who raised her for over a decade. What gives you the right to hit her?" he demanded.

Amelia wiped blood from her lips and struggled to her feet.

She looked at the scattered ashes and spoke with biting sarcasm. "Is this Rosalyn's way of paying respects? Can't you see she smashed my father's ashes?"

Edmund's expression didn't waver, as if the ashes were meaningless debris.

"She dropped it. It's not a big deal," he said.

"Even if she meant to, you shouldn't hit someone over a dead man's ashes," he added. "I used to think your rough upbringing made you unrefined. Now I see you're beyond saving. Your father entrusted you to me before he died. It's my duty to discipline you. Bring Thunder in," he ordered.

A subordinate led in a large hunting dog.

Edmund had the ashes mixed into the dog's food.

Realizing his intent, Amelia lunged for the ashes. Edmund grabbed her arm and threw her to the ground.

She tried again to stop him from feeding her father's ashes to the dog. Edmund frowned, annoyed, and glanced at a baseball bat, signaling another subordinate.

"Amelia, this is your punishment for hurting Rosalyn. Keep this up, and don't blame me for what happens," he warned.

When she didn't stop, he ordered her leg broken.

Amelia collapsed, the pain in her shin nearly knocking her out. Blood dripped from her bitten lip, but she didn't cry out.

Her gaze turned icy as she looked at Edmund. Dragging her injured leg, she crawled toward the dog's bowl.

Rosalyn laughed mockingly.

"Years with the Hopewells, and you still act like a street rat from the slums. A grown woman fighting a dog for food?" she taunted. "I smashed the urn on purpose. So what? Tell your loyal little bodyguard to kill me if you dare," she sneered, her eyes shifting to Edmund with contempt.

Edmund pulled her into his arms, gently ruffling her hair.

"You're the only heiress I've sworn to protect for life. No one else has any claim over me," he said softly.