Leonidas
At my father's funeral, my fiancé's little assistant deliberately taped my private photos to a funeral wreath.
My mom had an asthma attack on the spot and died right there at the service.
As I knelt on the ground screaming, my fiancé pulled his crying assistant into his arms.
“Stop being so dramatic. What's the big deal about a few photos? Harper was just trying to give your dad a more lively send-off, better than some cold, boring affair.”
“Your mom had one foot in the grave anyway. A little sooner, a little later, what's the difference? Now we can just have one funeral for both. Saves time, money, and hassle.”
I held a three-day wake for my mom, while Harper Black posted party photos in the family group chat.
Her caption read: 【One old fart gone, another one follows.】
My fiancé dropped a huge cash gift in the chat. 【A double dose of good fortune.】
All my relatives scrambled to claim the cash and offer their congratulations.
I blocked everyone and went home to pack.
The moment I pushed open the door, I found my fiancé and his buddies using my intimate photos as a dartboard.
He pointed at the two dots on my chest in one photo and laughed. “Whoever hits the bullseye gets to have her tonight!”
...
I clutched the urns holding my parents' ashes and dragged myself home, one step at a time.
The moment I pushed open the door, a blast of deafening music and the sound of men's filthy laughter nailed me to the spot.
The entire living room wall was plastered with my private photos.
Logan's buddies, each holding a dart, were gleefully staring at a picture of my chest.
“Well, well, if it isn't our leading lady! Finally decided to show up!”
“Hey Logan, you were just saying she has a butterfly tattoo on her inner thigh. That true?” someone asked, poking a photo that showed part of my leg.
“You can only see the edge in these pics. Can't really tell what shape it is.”
Taunts and whistles echoed in my ears.
“Isla, why don't you lift up that skirt and let us have a look? Otherwise, we'll have to call Logan a liar.”
Tears welled in my eyes, and my voice trembled uncontrollably.
“Logan, my mom had an asthma attack because of you. She was dead before the ambulance even arrived. Are you trying to kill me, too?”
Logan, lounging on the sofa, didn't even bother to open his eyes at the sound of my voice. He just tossed his dart to the guy next to him.
Harper, who was sitting beside him, got up and clung to his arm, her face stained with innocent-looking tears.
“Isla, please don't be mad at Logan. This is all my fault…”
“I just thought… we hadn't all gotten together in a while, and I wanted to find something fun to liven things up. I never thought your mother would be so… fragile…”
Logan pulled her into his lap and kissed her forehead, then shot me a contemptuous look.
“Baby, you don't have to apologize to someone like her. She keels over at the slightest excitement, fragile as a cardboard box. It was her fate. If she couldn't handle it, that's on her, not anyone else.”
He finally deigned to look me in the eye.
“The bottom line, Isla, is that your mom was useless. Couldn't handle a little fun. We were just cracking a few jokes. Is it really worth you harping on it and ruining everyone's good time?”
My father was barely cold in his grave, and my mother had been literally angered to death, and to him, it was all just a trivial bit of fun?
I wanted to lunge forward and tear that hypocritical mask off his face, but I had only taken one step before Logan was standing in front of me.
He seized my chin in a tight grip.
“Take it off. You cooperate, and if I'm in a good mood, I'll buy your parents a prime burial plot. Don't make me rip it off you myself!”
“Instead of wasting your time crying, you should be thinking about how you're going to survive. After all, without mommy and daddy to back you up, you don't even have the right to speak to us!”
I wrenched my face from his grasp and stumbled back in terror.
“Come on, Isla, just do what Logan says. The guys are just curious. We'll have a look and that'll be it. Don't make things difficult for Logan,” Harper cooed, clinging to his arm.
She pointed a finger at my photos on the wall.
Two darts were stuck dead center in the chest of one of my pictures.
Logan's friends were crowded around two guys, cheering them on.
“Damn, Mike, Owen! Nice shooting! You each got one, right on the bullseye!”
“Guess Isla is all yours tonight! One half each, now don't fight over her!”
“Thanks, Logan. We won't hold back,” the two of them said, rubbing their hands together as they closed in on me.
“FUCK OFF!”
My roar made them flinch back. Then, with every ounce of strength I had, I swung my hand and slapped Logan hard across the face.
Everyone froze, including Logan himself.
The woman who had always been so obedient, so easily controlled, had actually dared to hit him.
Harper shrieked and threw herself at Logan, cupping his face in her hands.
She turned to me, her eyes brimming with tears as she glared.
“Isla! If you're going to blame someone, blame me! Don't you have any idea how much he loves you? He's barely slept these past few days, worrying about all this!”
Her accusation ignited Logan's fury.
He grabbed a handful of my hair and slammed my head against the wall.
“Isla! You dare to hit me? You're going to strip naked in this room and service all my buddies, and in return, I'll grant your parents a good plot of land.”
“You were so desperate to marry into my family back then, groveling and acting like a bitch in heat in my bed. And now you're trying to play the virtuous saint?”
Between his furious shouts, he kicked me again and again.
A sharp, twisting pain shot through my stomach, and I instinctively curled up, trying to shield my abdomen.
I don't know how long he kicked me. My vision started to go black, and I was about to pass out.
Finally, someone pulled him back.
“Logan, man, that's enough! Don't break her. If she's broken, how are we supposed to have our fun?”
Logan shoved them off, panting heavily as he pointed at me with a venomous glare.
“You ungrateful bitch! Mike, Owen, she's all yours. Take her wherever you want!”
He wrapped an arm around Harper and turned toward the bedroom.
The door slammed shut with a bang.
Mike and Owen closed in on me, their faces twisted in menacing grins.
My thin dress was easily torn, and the room filled with my desperate screams.
“Don't touch my stomach—I'm pregnant!”