Trampled To The Bottom, Now I'm At The Top

Chelsey Clark rushed home and froze at what she saw as soon as she stepped inside.

Emily Clark sat comfortably in Damien Lawson's arms. Her designer dress fit her perfectly, and her soft features made her look harmless and pitiful. Tears gathered in her eyes as she put on the appearance of someone who felt guilty and wronged.

"Mom, Dad, Damien... can't we just drop this?" she pleaded. "Marrying Dylan Warren is dangerous. Everyone knows that, and nobody wants anything to do with him. This was supposed to be my responsibility, so I can't just dump it on Chelsey."

After a pause, Emily continued, "She's had an easy life since she was young, and she doesn't know how cruel the world can be. If she leaves this family and loses Damien, she won't even know how to take care of herself. I'm a Clark by blood, so I should deal with this myself. I'll marry Dylan Warren."

She lightly pulled at Damien's sleeve. "Damien, I know how much you love me, but I..." she whispered before her voice broke into quiet sobs.

Damien gently ran a hand over her hair, and his expression softened. "You're too good for your own good. You're always worrying about everyone else," he murmured.

His attention shifted to Chelsey. "Emily and I are together now, Chelsey. Please don't blame her for this. I'm the one who fell for her," he said.

Chelsey didn't move. Her clear gaze stayed calm, yet a sharp chill spread through her chest.

Now she understood. Her fiancé had been cheating on her.

Her adoptive father hadn't called her home in a hurry because he wanted to talk about her wedding to Damien. He had brought her back because he expected her to marry in Emily's place.

Emily had taken her fiancé, and now she wanted her to accept a nightmare of a marriage for her. Somehow, Damien still saw that selfish and cruel behavior as kindness.

Damien's mother, Eleanor Lawson, sat nearby and quietly sipped her coffee. She looked Chelsey over with open disdain before saying, "Chelsey, don't take this out on Damien. The marriage arrangement between our families was always supposed to involve the Clark family's real daughter. We have our reputation to think about. I know this sounds harsh, but you're not related to your parents, no one even knows where you really came from, and you've spent your whole life doing nothing. Someone like you isn't suitable for our family."

Chelsey scoffed inwardly. Eleanor really didn't think much of her.

At five years old, she had been sent to live with her grandmother in the countryside because the Clarks claimed work kept them too busy to care for her. Even the money for her daily expenses rarely came unless they reminded them, and most of the time, they acted as though she barely existed.

For years, she had believed their jobs were the reason they had paid so little attention to her. Only after her grandmother died and she moved back to the city did she discover what had really happened. She had been switched at birth. She wasn't their daughter. Emily was.

Seeing how differently they treated Emily finally made everything clear. The Clarks hadn't kept their distance because they were busy. They simply didn't see her as one of their own because they didn't share the same blood.

She had grown up in the countryside, and over the past few years, most of her time had gone into treating patients and working on scientific research. That hadn't left her much time to spend with Damien, but she had still believed what they had was real. She certainly hadn't expected him to betray her when Emily had only been back for two months.

What made it worse was how easily he ended their engagement while acting as if he had done nothing wrong.

Still, there was nothing left to argue about. It had already happened.

Chelsey showed no emotion as she looked at Damien and Eleanor. Even her voice stayed calm. "Fine. We're done. Just don't come crying to me when you regret it," she said.

Damien hadn't expected her to accept it so easily. He had been prepared for tears or an angry scene, yet she gave him neither.

His eyes lingered on her beautiful face, and for a moment, he found himself unwilling to give her up completely. That hesitation soon turned into a far less decent thought.

Eleanor gave a mocking laugh. "Regret it? You really do think a lot of yourself. What exactly would we have to regret?"

Harold Clark, Chelsey's adoptive father, cleared his throat and pretended he was only looking out for her. "Chelsey, we still haven't found your real parents. Now that you and Damien aren't getting married, there's something else we need to discuss. You and Dylan are a very good match," he said gently, although there was little room for refusal in his words.

Everyone knew about Dylan Warren. He had lost the use of both legs, and his reputation was enough to make people stay out of his way. He was known for being ruthless and cold, and he never showed mercy when dealing with anyone who crossed him.

There were even rumors that he had an illness no doctor could cure and that he wouldn't make it past thirty. Very few people were willing to risk getting on his bad side.

Chelsey looked at Harold coldly. "The Warrens wanted Emily to marry Dylan. What do you think they'll do when they find out you switched the bride without telling them?" she said.

Under her gaze, Harold shifted uneasily. "Don't worry. The Warrens already agreed to it," he replied.

Chelsey didn't raise her voice, but her words came out colder than before. "So because I'm not really your daughter, you think you can just hand me over to them?"

Harold showed no sign of guilt. "We took care of you all these years. You can at least do this much for us. And you're marrying into the Warren family. You'll never have to worry about money again, so stop acting like we're ruining your life," he retorted.

Arthur Warren, Dylan's grandfather, had offered a hundred million dollars as part of the marriage arrangement. Even more tempting to him was the connection to the Warren family. It would push the Clarks much higher in elite society and give him exactly the status and respect he had always wanted.

Lorraine Clark, Harold's wife, had remained silent until then. When she finally spoke, there was no sympathy in her voice. "Chelsey, we're not trying to be cruel. The Warrens have too much power. If we refuse them, they could destroy this family without even trying. Emily has already been through enough, and we can't make her go through this too."

Lorraine took a moment before she went on, "You've also seen what's happening between her and Damien. They're together now. You spent more than twenty years living the life that should've been hers, so marrying Dylan for her is the least you can do after everything she lost."

Emily rose from her seat and walked around Chelsey slowly. She still wore the same weak, innocent expression, but there was a faint trace of satisfaction in her eyes. "Chelsey, don't be mad at Mom and Dad. They just feel bad for everything I went through..."

Chelsey's heart shifted slightly at those words. She had met Dylan before, and she already needed a reason to get into the Warren family so she could investigate something.

For her, an arranged marriage had never been about love, so the identity of the man didn't make much difference. As for Dylan's illness... that might even work in her favor. She could use the chance to sharpen her medical skills.

Chelsey stayed quiet for a moment before giving her answer. Her decision was already made. "Fine. I'll marry him. Consider that my way of paying the Clark family back for raising me. After this, I don't owe any of you anything."

She wanted to see how long the Clark family could survive in Esugend's business world once she stopped helping them behind the scenes.

...

The Warren family's estate carried a heavy, serious atmosphere that made its status impossible to ignore.

Arthur sat in the main seat of the living room.

Dylan sat beside him in a wheelchair. He wore a well-fitted black suit, with a thin blanket covering his long legs.

His face was striking enough to draw attention immediately, with deep-set eyes and a sharp jawline. Long years of illness had left a cold distance in his gaze. He glanced at Chelsey only briefly, and nothing in his expression showed what he was thinking.

Chelsey looked back at him and felt a slight stir in her chest. So this was her husband.

Arthur studied Chelsey carefully. She was certainly attractive, but her background left much to be desired. She wasn't the Clarks' real daughter, and she had been sent to the countryside since she was a little girl. That probably meant she had little experience with high society.

Given his grandson's condition, he couldn't afford to be too selective. In the end, he agreed to let Chelsey marry Dylan in Emily's place. Then he even pulled some strings to get them legally married in the system without them appearing in person, in case they reconsidered.

Arthur looked directly at Chelsey and asked, "You know about Dylan's condition, don't you? I'm giving you one year. I expect you to be pregnant with his child by then. Otherwise..."

Chelsey frowned at the way he spoke to her. His words made it sound as if her only purpose was to have a child, and the thought disgusted her.

Dylan showed no reaction at all. He looked like he was simply waiting for the conversation to be over.

His father was Arthur's eldest son. His parents had died when he was young, and his uncle had been working against him for years. Arthur wanted this marriage because an heir would strengthen his position in the family. He didn't care who he married as long as the arrangement served that purpose.

Harold quickly nodded and gave Arthur an eager smile. "Don't worry, Mr. Warren. Chelsey's perfectly healthy, and I'm sure she'll give the Warren family an heir."

Arthur waved a hand as he addressed Chelsey. "Take Dylan back to his room. I need to talk to your father alone. And with Dylan's condition, you'll probably have to make the first move in bed. Put some effort into it and do what you're supposed to do as his wife."

Heat rushed to Chelsey's face after hearing him say it so openly. He really had no problem saying exactly what was on his mind.

Harold immediately put on the voice of a strict, concerned father. "Chelsey, you're Dylan's wife now. You need to take good care of him. Don't start making trouble or acting spoiled. Do you understand?" he said.

Chelsey ignored the fake concern in his lecture. She stepped behind Dylan's wheelchair and pushed him toward his room.

Dylan's room was decorated almost entirely in shades of gray. Everything looked simple and cold, which suited his distant personality perfectly.

Dylan rested his fingers against the armrest of his wheelchair. His knuckles stood out beneath his skin. He kept his eyes on Chelsey as he spoke, and his low voice carried a cold warning.

"Did you understand what my grandfather said?" he asked sharply. "All you have to do in this marriage is give me children. Know your place and do what you're supposed to do. As long as you do that, I'll make sure you and your family are protected."

His expression grew colder as anger darkened his eyes. There was no room for argument in his voice. "But if you can't even do that, or you're here because you're after something else..."

Chelsey met his sharp stare with a small smirk. She didn't bother waiting for him to finish. She pulled the light blanket from his lap, crouched in front of him, and gently moved his knees apart. She did it quickly without showing the slightest hesitation.

Dylan stiffened immediately, and the tension coming from him sharpened. Surprise flickered across his face, but it only lasted a second before he looked at her with cold, intense caution.

His voice dropped as he snapped at her, "What the hell are you doing? Who said you could touch me?"

Chelsey ignored his protest and pressed her fingers along his legs from his thighs down to his ankles. After checking them, she spoke, her voice firm. "I don't want the Warren family's money, and I'm not having your children."

She looked straight into his cold eyes and laid out her terms. "So, how about we make a deal? Let me stay with the Warren family as your wife, and help me get out from under the Clark family's control. In return, I'll treat your legs, clear out the toxins that have been building up in your body for years, and get you walking again."

Dylan's brows drew together as the tension around him grew heavier. For the past few years, he had gone to nearly every well-known doctor he could find in hopes that someone could treat his condition.

None of them had been able to help him. They had all reached almost the same conclusion. The nerves in his legs had suffered severe damage, and he would never walk again. The toxins that had remained in his body for years couldn't be cured either, and according to them, he probably wouldn't live past thirty.

Unless he could somehow find Dubhe, one of the major disciples of the hidden Kginia Valley.

If Dubhe agreed to treat him, there might still be the slightest chance that his condition could improve.

"That's ridiculous," Dylan responded mockingly. His voice dropped lower, and the coldness in it made his disbelief obvious. His handsome face tightened as he looked at her as though she had just made the most absurd claim he had ever heard.

"You don't have to believe me right now," Chelsey said as she reached for his belt. "We'll find out soon enough once I try."

Dylan stiffened from head to toe, and alarm immediately flashed through his narrowed eyes. "What are you doing?" he snapped.

Hadn't she just told him she had no intention of having his children? So why was she suddenly reaching for his belt without the slightest hesitation?

Chelsey almost found his reaction funny. He had become so tense and guarded that he looked ready to have her dragged out of the room if she moved even an inch closer.

"Calm down," she replied. "I'm not trying to do anything to you. I need your pants off so I can treat your legs properly."

"No. That's not happening," Dylan said coldly. He clearly didn't believe a single word she was saying.

Chelsey held back a sigh and reached into her handbag for the Dual Flame Needles. Dylan barely had time to react before she inserted one needle into a precise point along the outside of his thigh. She turned it carefully for several seconds, then pulled it straight back out.

A sudden, unmistakable sting shot through Dylan's thigh. That leg had been completely numb and unresponsive for the past two years.

His eyes widened at once. A faint sound caught in his throat as disbelief hit him. His leg had actually felt something.

Chelsey smiled when she saw his reaction. "Believe me now? Take your pants off. And relax. I'm the woman here. It's not like I'm going to take advantage of you, is it?"

Dylan still didn't trust her completely, and the caution in his eyes hadn't disappeared. However, after what he had just felt in his leg, he finally stopped resisting her.

Chelsey carefully lowered his pants and continued treating his legs. At that moment, she wasn't looking at him as a man at all. As far as she was concerned, Dylan was nothing more than a patient who needed treatment.

Dylan studied the gold needles positioned across his thigh. His attention settled on the detailed patterns carved into the metal, and recognition slowly sharpened his gaze. He looked back at Chelsey with open suspicion before speaking in a cold voice. "If I'm seeing this right, those are the legendary Dual Flame Needles. So who exactly are you?"