Chapter 1 Branded a Slut

The morning sun had barely risen, yet Amara Hayes dragged her bruised body through the iron gates of the Hayes mansion. Her steps were unsteady, her hair disheveled, clothes torn in places, and her swollen eyes glistened with unshed tears. To anyone watching, she looked like a woman who had just crawled out of hell.

The gate creaked shut behind her, the sound echoing like a cruel reminder of where she truly belonged-not in safety, not in comfort, but in a house that treated her worse than an outsider.

Her fingers trembled as she gripped the stair railing, desperate to escape into the solitude of her small room before anyone saw her. But fate was never that merciful to her.

"Where do you think you're sneaking off to?"

The voice, sharp and laced with venom, made her freeze. Before she could turn, a manicured hand yanked her back by the arm.

Smack!

The slap rang loudly across the marble hallway.

Amara's head whipped to the side, the sting searing her cheek. She blinked at her cousin, Melissa, standing before her with smug satisfaction. Melissa was the kind of woman who was almost pretty-her face plain without the thick layers of foundation and lipstick she relied on. But dressed in designer silk, every inch of her screamed vanity and spite.

"You slut," Melissa spat, her eyes glinting with hatred. "Do you enjoy throwing yourself at other people's men? My fiancé, of all people?"

The servants scattered around the hall gasped, their eyes darting to Amara with poorly masked disgust. Whispers rose like fireflies in the air-shameless, filthy, a disgrace.

Amara's lips parted in disbelief. "What are you-"

Another sharp sting cut her short.

Smack!

This time from the other side. Her aunt, Clarissa Hayes, had arrived without warning, her jeweled fingers raised in contempt. Clarissa was a tall, elegant woman with cold, calculating eyes. Her beauty had long since hardened into cruelty.

"How dare you show your face here, you wretched girl?" Clarissa's voice thundered. "You dare seduce your cousin's fiancé and then sneak back like a thief in the morning? Have you no shame?"

Amara staggered back, her chest heaving. Her eyes burned red, but not with tears-this time, it was fury.

"Seduce?" She scoffed, her laugh bitter, hollow. "Why don't you ask your precious daughter what really happened last night?"

Melissa's face darkened, but Amara's words spilled like poison.

"I was doing my job at the bar when she waltzed in with her oh-so-perfect fiancé. She sat there, mocking me, flaunting him like some prize. I ignored her, went to the bathroom, and when I came out-" Amara's voice cracked, her fists clenching. "-your dear future son-in-law cornered me. He tried to force himself on me."

The room grew tense. A servant gasped.

"You lie!" Melissa shrieked, her eyes wild. "You filthy liar! If that were true, why are you still standing here?"

Amara's lips trembled as she remembered-the weight of rough hands, the foul stench of alcohol, her frantic struggle, and then the shadows of strange men who dragged her out back. The way fists rained down on her until her body nearly gave way. Only the sound of a car screeching nearby had scared them off, giving her the chance to crawl away.

Her voice lowered, trembling with suppressed rage. "You sent those boys after me, Melissa. Didn't you? You wanted to teach me a lesson for something I never did."

Melissa's painted lips curved into a cold smile, her silence louder than words.

Clarissa's eyes narrowed, flicking between her daughter and Amara. But instead of doubt, her glare hardened.

"Enough!" she barked. "Do you think anyone will believe your pathetic excuses? Who would trust the word of a fatherless tramp over my daughter's?"

Another round of snickers and sneers from the servants filled the air. Amara stood there, trembling from head to toe, her cheek still burning from their slaps.

Her world had taken everything from her-her parents, her dignity, her peace. And now, even her innocence was being torn to shreds by the people meant to call her family.

But as her gaze locked on Melissa's triumphant smirk, something inside her shifted.

For the first time, Amara didn't just feel broken. She felt the first spark of hatred.

Amara clenched her jaw, refusing to give Melissa the satisfaction of seeing her break. She turned to leave, but Melissa yanked her back again, her nails poised like claws ready to scratch.

"Where do you think you're going?" Melissa spat, her voice dripping with hatred. She raised her hand, aiming straight for Amara's face-the face that had always driven her insane with jealousy.

But this time, Amara moved faster. She caught Melissa's wrist mid-air, her bruised fingers gripping with surprising strength.

"Touch me one more time," Amara said coldly, her voice stripped of the timidness they were used to, "and I'll make sure you regret it."

The chill in her tone, the deadly calm in her stare, made Melissa's heart skip. This wasn't the weak, submissive cousin she used to torment. For a brief second, Melissa saw something terrifying in Amara's eyes-an unbroken will.

Shaken, Melissa yanked her hand free. 'Why didn't those useless boys finish the job? she fumed inwardly. They were supposed to destroy her-taint her reputation forever. She had arranged everything: the assault, the photos, the humiliation. And yet Amara had returned, bruised but still untouchably beautiful. Even now, with torn clothes and a battered face, she still looked like a fallen angel.' The thought made Melissa's blood boil.

Unable to control her rage, Melissa grabbed a vase from the nearby stand and hurled it to the ground. The sharp crash echoed through the hall, shards scattering across the marble floor. Servants flinched but didn't dare move.

Amara, unfazed, dragged her aching body up the grand staircase. Each step was heavier than the last, but she forced herself forward. Her room-if it could be called that-was nothing more than a storage space shoved into the farthest corner of the mansion. Still, it was the only place she could wash away the filth clinging to her skin and the bruises screaming across her body.

Behind her, Clarissa placed a calming hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Melissa, enough," she whispered.

Melissa's chest heaved with fury. "Mom, if we don't deal with her, I'll lose everything. Do you have any idea how hard I've worked to get close to the Ashford family? They're nouveau riche, yes, but their influence and connections are unmatched. I stole Kael from her, and yet she still ruins everything! If she dares to show her face again, all my plans will go up in flames!"

Clarissa's sharp eyes narrowed. Unlike her daughter, her anger was cold and calculated. She tucked a strand of perfectly coiffed hair behind her ear, her lips curling into a dangerous smile.

"Patience, my dear. You've already won Kael. But to secure the Ashfords, we need Amara gone... permanently."

Melissa's eyes lit up with desperate hope. "You mean it? You have a plan?"

Clarissa gave a soft, sinister laugh, leaning closer to whisper. "Trust me, sweetheart. Soon, she won't be able to step foot in this house again. All you need to do is wait."

Melissa's fury simmered into anticipation. Her mother's words was enough to assure her-Amara's days under this roof were numbered.