Chapter 1

When I was born, my parents and my grandmother wanted to end my life simply because I was a girl.

My uncle, Byron Clarke, saved me after he said, "It's just a girl. It won't make a difference to raise an extra girl."

My mother sneered, "If you can, why don't you raise her?"

Unexpectedly, Byron nodded and took me home with him.

Later, when I got into college, my parents didn't give me a single penny.

To pay for my tuition, Byron became a gigolo.

01

When I was successfully admitted to high school, Byron held a party to celebrate, but my parents, my grandmother, and their relatives crashed the party.

They tore down the banners, threw the dishes on the floor, kicked over tables and chairs, and even injured the chef.

When I tried to stop them, my mother slapped me across the face. My cheeks were swollen and painful.

My father kicked me to the floor and caused me to spit blood.

My mother didn't feel sorry for me and even spat on my face. "You disgraceful girl, you bring shame to us!" she cursed.

She still hadn't vented her anger, so she grabbed a stick and hit my forehead, which had already been scarred. I then bled again.

I cried out and didn't understand what was happening.

My mother's anger only grew when she heard my cries. She picked up a kitchen knife and waved it at my neck.

My brother clapped his hands in delight and cheered them on.

He hoped they'd kill me.

Just as the knife was about to land on me, Byron knocked my mother down with a stick. His graceful figure shielded me. "Have you lost your mind? This is murder!"

Seeing Byron, my mother burst into tears. "Byron, what kind of spell has that little witch cast on you? You've lost your mind to engage in shameful work. If it weren't for her, you wouldn't have to do that."

Byron said, "Enough! It was my decision and has nothing to do with Kendra. She's a good girl and even got into high school. No one from our village has ever done that. Any other family with a girl who excels in school would be proud. How can you treat her so heartlessly?"

My mother became sadder. "Why should that wretched girl go to high school? You have money and no children. You could have paid for my son's education."

Byron said, "Your son barely passed elementary school. What's the use of him going to school? He doesn't have the aptitude for education. You have to accept the fact."

He kept me safely behind him and whispered to me not to be afraid.

My mother hated me more as she saw the scene. She gritted her teeth in fury.

She pointed at me and cursed me. "What kind of spell has that wretched girl cast on you? You're doing those shameful things for her and disgracing our entire family."

What shameful things?

I looked at Byron, confused.

But Byron seemed not to be embarrassed at all. He was even a bit proud. "I'm earning money honestly. How is it disgraceful? Wealthy women pay for my company, and I'm willing to take their money and make them happy. What's wrong with that?"

Hearing that, my mother nearly fainted from rage. She hurled the kitchen knife at me again. "You're a gigolo for wealthy women just to raise this worthless girl. You earn money but don't use it for the boy in our family, instead funding this wretched girl's education. You've been out of your mind. If I had known you were doing that for her, I would have strangled this wretched girl to death when she was born so that we wouldn't have had this trouble."

Byron pulled me aside and dodged the knife.

I noticed the red marks on his chest, likely from women's nails, and I suddenly remembered the teasing looks from my classmates after the exam. "Kendra, did you know your uncle works as a gigolo?"