Han family luxury villa
In the dining room, an elegant woman in her fifties sat waiting for her breakfast to be prepared.
It was her first year after moving to Australia to manage the numerous family businesses, leaving her only daughter behind in the mansion.
She could have taken her daughter with her, but there was a hatred she could never forget.
"I'm sorry, Madam Agatha," Emma's voice sounded soft, as if trying to balance respect in front of her employer. "Should I call Miss Lucia down to join you for breakfast? It's been a year since you last saw her," she asked, curious.
Agatha looked at Emma with a cold expression, her lips curling into a sneer that seemed filled with contempt. "Do I really have to see her face? It's disgusting," she replied sharply, making the atmosphere in the dining room tense.
Emma lowered her head, her hands trembling as she clutched the tablecloth. She knew better than to respond to such harsh words, though her heart ached at seeing how Lucia was always treated with disdain—even hatred—by her own mother.
The sound of footsteps descending the stairs slowly broke the silence. Lucia entered the dining room with her head held high, trying to conceal the wounds she carried inside her heart. However, her mother's cold gaze immediately greeted her, making her steps feel heavier.
"Lucia," Agatha's voice was sharp. "You finally decided to come out of that room. I almost forgot I had a daughter."
Lucia stopped at the end of the dining table, looking at her mother with eyes trying to stay calm. "Good morning, Mother," she said quietly.
"Don't bother with pleasantries," Agatha cut her off. "I have no time for your empty formalities. Sit down and eat, if you still want to stay in this house."
Lucia lowered her head and quietly took a seat. She knew any word of protest would only worsen the situation.
Lucia bit her lip, trying to hold back the emotions swelling within her.
"If only you had died instead, maybe Nicholas would still be here with me," Agatha spat cruelly.
"Why do you always say such things? I'm your daughter, Mother. I need you too. I've needed a mother all these years," Lucia replied, her voice trembling.
Agatha glared at her sharply. "Need me? Don't make me laugh. You're just a worthless girl enjoying all the wealth provided by me. But remember, Lucia, everything in this mansion is not for you. You're nothing but a burden I have to bear, not part of this family."
Lucia swallowed hard. She knew that ever since the accident, her life had changed, and she had been unwanted by everyone around her.
The girl could only remain silent, growing up haunted by fear and mental scars.
Emma quietly placed breakfast on the table, and they all ate in silence, without exchanging a single word.
Deep inside, Lucia longed to look at her mother's face, whom she hadn't seen in a year. There was a sense of longing—but she knew it would only be met with mockery.
Lucia struggled to hold back her sobs, realizing that forgiveness was no longer an option.
The sound of Lucia's fork clinking against her plate irritated her mother.
"Lucia, could you at least eat properly for once in your life?" Agatha's sharp voice echoed throughout the dining room.
Lucia bowed her head, her hands trembling as she tried to cut the bread on her plate. She didn't reply, knowing any response would only provoke greater anger.
Agatha scoffed and slammed her utensils down onto her plate. "Look at you. Pathetic. No wonder your father sacrificed his life to save you. Sadly, I now think it was the wrong decision."
Lucia looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. But behind those tears, a glimmer of hatred began to spark. "Mother, please don't drag Father into this," her voice quivered, almost pleading.
"Why not? Am I wrong? Because of your foolishness as a child, I lost my husband! I lost the love of my life!" Agatha cried out, her emotions spilling over. "I should have known from the start that you would bring nothing but trouble."
Lucia couldn't take it anymore. "I was just a child back then, Mother! I never asked Father to save me. It was an accident! Why do I have to be punished every day for something I couldn't even understand at the time?"
At last, she voiced the anger she had bottled up for eighteen long years.
Agatha laughed bitterly. "An accident? No, Lucia. It was the consequence of your selfishness. You think life revolves around you? If you had just behaved that day, your father would still be alive."
Lucia sat frozen, her hands clenched tightly on her lap. She wanted to defend herself, but her mother's words were like blades stabbing her heart over and over again.
Lucia rose from her chair without saying another word. She knew it was useless to talk to her mother. For years, she had gotten used to hearing those hateful words. Every day was a repetition of old wounds that never healed.
She walked out of the dining room, leaving her untouched meal behind. In the lonely hallway, her tears finally fell freely. Her heart felt hollow, like an empty space filled only with sorrow and guilt that was never truly hers to bear.
Since the accident, her life had changed forever. Once a lively, cheerful little girl, she was now merely a shadow of her former self. Her mother never missed a chance to remind her of the "sin" she had never intended to commit.
But behind her tears, a small fire began to ignite within her a fire of growing resentment that flared brighter each time her mother twisted her father's memory against her. One day, she promised herself, she would escape her mother's shadow and prove that she was more than just a "mistake" everyone loved to blame.
Lucia returned to her room, her fragile heart further shattered. For years, she tried to understand why her mother hated her so much, but the answer was always the same: she was the "cause" of her father's death.
Lucia sat by the large window in her room, gazing out at the falling snow. Once, she had loved winter because her father always brought warmth to the cold. Now, snow only reminded her of silence, coldness, and the loneliness that had become her constant companion.
Her tears fell silently. She whispered softly to herself, trying to convince her wounded heart, "One day, I will leave this place. One day, I will prove I am not a mistake."
But that day still felt far, far away. For now, all she could do was endure, just as she always had.
Meanwhile, Agatha threw her plate onto the floor, shattering it into pieces. She was deeply wounded by the loss of the man she had loved so dearly and had never truly been ready to let go—even after nearly nineteen years.
"I almost died just remembering that incident, and I will never forgive Lucia. If only you hadn't made me promise to take care of her, I would have thrown that child away," she shouted.
Her words echoed up to Lucia's room.
Lucia cried uncontrollably. Everyone thought she was a lucky girl, being the sole heiress of a wealthy family, but they had no idea about the mental burden she carried every single day.
Even if she had a choice, she would have chosen death.