Chapter 2 Sarah's POV

The next morning, I woke up early and took a bath. Since Andrew wanted a "perfect wife," I decided to give him just that. Not because I cared, but because of Lily-I had to endure everything for her. After getting dressed, I headed to the kitchen and prepared a simple meal. The maids kept staring at me as if I were performing some kind of magic. Maybe they thought I didn't belong in the kitchen. I ignored them and focused on setting the dining table, making sure everything looked perfect. Once everything was ready, I asked one of the maids to go and call Andrew and Brian.

I waited patiently, determined to play my role, at least for now. The sound of footsteps echoed through the dining room. I turned to see Andrew and Brian walking in, both dressed in matching outfits. It was clear that Andrew adored his son, and from the way Brian carried himself, he knew it too. They sat down silently, not even acknowledging my presence. Well, two could play that game. If they weren't going to greet me, I wasn't going to greet them either. I picked up my spoon and started eating, pretending to be unbothered. Andrew took a few bites, then, without a word, stood up and walked away, leaving me alone with his spoiled son. Brian scowled at the food in front of him. "I don't want to eat this," he said, then, without warning, he shoved the plate off the table, spilling everything onto the floor. I clenched my fists, feeling my patience slipping, but I took a deep breath. I knew exactly what he was trying to do-he wanted to provoke me. But I wouldn't let him win. I forced a sweet smile. "I see. What do you want to eat, Brian?" I asked calmly. He stared at me in shock. He had expected me to yell, maybe even hit him. Too bad for him-I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. "I don't want anything cooked by you!" he snapped. "Just leave my father's house!" He jumped down from his chair, ready to storm off. But I quickly stepped in front of him, blocking his path. He frowned, about to push past me when he noticed something. Blood. I winced, realizing too late that I had stepped on a piece of broken glass from the shattered plate. Pain shot up my leg, but I forced myself to stay still. The maids gasped and rushed forward. "Are you okay, ma'am?" one of them asked. I nodded, forcing a smile. "I'm fine. Just clean up this mess," I said, turning to leave. As I walked away, I could feel my foot throbbing. Each step sent sharp pain up my leg, but I refused to let it show. I wouldn't let them see me weak. Back in my room, I grabbed the first aid box and started cleaning the wound. The sting made my eyes water, but I refused to cry. I had been through worse. Just then, the door opened, and Andrew walked in. He didn't say anything at first, just stood there, his eyes flicking between my face and my injured foot. He looked as if he was trying to figure out what had happened. Finally, he spoke. "I'm going out now. I might come back late. Take care of Brian." And just like that, he turned and left. I stared at the door long after he was gone. The pain in my foot was nothing compared to the ache in my heart. Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them. "I don't deserve this life," I whispered. "I never asked for this. God, why are you punishing me like this?" I wiped my tears quickly, refusing to let my emotions consume me. Crying wouldn't change anything. I had to be strong, if not for myself, then for Lily. I finished bandaging my foot and tried to stand, but the pain shot through my leg, forcing me to sit back down. Just as I was about to try again, my door suddenly burst open. Brian stood there, arms crossed, staring at me with that same arrogant expression. "You're still here," he muttered, clearly annoyed. I sighed, too exhausted to argue. "Where else would I be?" His eyes flickered to my injured foot, and for a second, I thought I saw hesitation. But it disappeared just as quickly as it came. Instead, he smirked and stepped closer. "You're faking it," he said, his voice filled with childish arrogance. I frowned. "Faking what?" "Your injury," he scoffed. "You just want attention, don't you? Well, let's see how real it is." Before I could react, Brian grabbed my injured foot and squeezed it-hard. A sharp cry escaped my lips as pain exploded through my leg. "Brian!" I gasped, trying to pull away, but he tightened his grip. "You're not my mom, and you never will be!" he shouted, pressing down even harder. I felt the bandage loosen, and when I looked down, fresh blood was already seeping through. "Brian, stop!" I pleaded, my voice breaking from the pain. But he didn't let go. Instead, he twisted my foot slightly, causing another sharp wave of pain to shoot up my leg. Tears blurred my vision. I couldn't believe this was happening. Just then, the door swung open again. "What the hell are you doing?" Andrew's deep, angry voice filled the room, making Brian freeze. He let go of my foot immediately and turned to face his father. Andrew's cold eyes flickered to my injured foot, now bleeding through the bandage, then back to Brian. His jaw tightened, and for the first time, I saw something in his expression that almost looked like concern. But it was gone just as quickly. "Get out," he ordered Brian in a dangerously low tone. Brian hesitated, looking between us. For the first time, he looked nervous. But then, he clenched his fists and stormed out without another word. Andrew walked closer and crouched beside me. His eyes darkened as he studied the wound. "You let him do this to you?" he asked, his voice quiet but filled with something I couldn't quite place. I scoffed. "Do I look like I had a choice?" He didn't reply. Instead, he grabbed the first aid kit and reached for my foot. I instinctively pulled away. "I can do it myself," I snapped. He shot me a warning look. "Stay still." I can let anything happen to you, not yet. He daid. And i wonder what he meant by that. I hesitated but eventually let him take my foot. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but his expression remained cold and unreadable. As he carefully unwrapped the bloody bandage, he muttered, "You're too weak. If you keep letting Brian do whatever he wants, you won't last long in this house." I clenched my jaw. "So what? You want me to fight your son?" "If that's what it takes," he said simply. I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. This man... He really didn't care about me at all. I swallowed my anger and looked away as he continued tending to my wound. I didn't know what was worse-the pain in my foot or the fact that I was completely trapped in this nightmare.