Becoming A Step-son's Mistress

Chapter 3

Cynthia's POV

With that, he mercilessly crossed over me and walked up the stairs. His words made my heart feel a stabbing pain for some reason.

After watching his back disappear, I turned around in frustration and realized that Mr. Madison was staring at me with an uncertain expression. I hurriedly got up from the ground and asked for his understanding, even though I didn't know what I had done wrong.

"Of course, Cynthia, there's nothing you can't be forgiven for."

He was back to his usual self, with an affectionate smile on his face, and just as I was breathing a sigh of relief, he said the words I dreaded the most.

"Come and see me in the study at night."

I almost fell to the ground in despair.

Every time he said I should meet him in the study at night, it meant I would get a beating.

This had been routine before, and several times I woke up from my stupor to find myself still lying on the cold floor of the study, covered with whippings and other bruises from blunt force, and had to crawl back to my quarters. At one point I almost died there.

How could there be such a man in the world, who to outsiders appeared to be a graceful, gentle gentleman, with a good reputation far and wide, and who was praised by everyone as a good man with a good heart, but who had a wall of all kinds of terrible instruments of torture hidden behind his bookcase?

He never let anyone see the signs because he never used a sharp knife to cause cuts on my skin, but simply knocked me down in other ways so that when someone came to visit the next day it would not be obvious that I had been abused. I thought he would never have the chance to do this to me again, but now I could hardly bear the shock.

My mind suddenly flashed back to the man's eyes at the moment of desperation, but they were soon dispersed by his mercilessly departing figure and cold tone of voice. I desperately tried to hold back the tears in my eyes from dripping down.

I kept breathing deeply and telling myself to be strong, Cynthia, that I was not far from true relief. His health doesn't look like it's going to get better if it can… There will definitely be a day when he leaves!

After I finally finished all my chores, I knocked on the study door in my thin nightgown, trembling. I gritted my teeth and opened the door to find that in addition to Mr. Madison, there was Mark, the butler.

Mark is a big, sturdy man, he has been responsible for punishing wrongdoers in this large estate, I am very afraid of him because many times Mr. Madiso beat me, are instructed him to do it.

Seeing this scene I was desperate beyond belief and with tears in my eyes begged Mr. Madison for mercy: "Please, you can't, I'll die, please."

Mr. Madison is vicious, but he is an old man, but Mark is different, if Mark did it I may not survive the night.

"Mark, lock the door."

Mr. Madison did not waver in the slightest, Mark apparently had some discomfort, but still, comply with his instructions. He also looked horrified when he saw the torture tools behind the cabinet, probably because he hadn't expected that Mr. Madiso had bought many new torture tools after not seeing him for some time, and I was already cowering in the corner of the room in fear.

"Mark, please don't do this."

"Pick the whip and get started." Mark hesitantly tried to speak but was so shocked by the look in Mr. Madison's eyes that he didn't dare disobey, picked up the whip, and swung it down hard at me. And just this whip almost made me faint from the pain.

The torture lasted half an hour, and I lay dying on the floor with the whip beside me stained with blood. And Mark started out with an unforgiving look on his face, but by the time Mr. Madison finally called a halt to it, he already looked a little unfulfilled. This made my already sinking heart sink again and gradually give up the struggle.

No one could save me.

After they left, I lay down for a long time. The pain ate away at my body, while the darkness consumed my mind.

After falling to my knees for the third time, I finally rose trembling from the ground, and opened the door of my study with a trembling hand. The sky outside the window was no longer dark, and with morning soon to come, I had to give myself some rest and get up early to start the day's chores.

I trudged toward the attic, the stabbing pain taking me a long time to take a step, and finally, my legs gave out and I collapsed outside one of the doors.

Arther 's POV

It's been five years since I left here.

I look out the window, and my memory unconsciously returns to the scene back then.

Everyone comes up to me and pats me on the shoulder, telling me to mourn. They wiped away the tears they had to, reciting how kind she was in life, while the men looked at her posthumous photo and said something about how it was a shame to be so beautiful at such a young age.

But no one ever asked her about the cause of death, they all thought it was the disease that took her. Only I knew that was not the case.

"Don't blame him, Arther . he loved me very much, it's just that he was possessed by the devil."

She was still defending him before she decided to kill herself.

I looked at the lifeless smile in her picture and the sad, desperate man next to me, and left the place without looking back.

I looked around the room again. It had been so long since then, so long that the furniture in the room was covered with a thick layer of dust, and no one had bothered to clean the room again.

Suddenly, the sound of something heavy hitting the ground came from outside the door of the room, appearing abruptly in the silence. I looked abruptly at the door. Someone made a sound in the middle of the night, it seems to have been watching me, we really bleed the same blood, in the matter of defense and vigilance to each other, both to the extreme.

I walked over and opened the door, originally thought people had left. Instead, the door was not empty, a woman was struggling to get up from the ground, she was wearing only a thin nightgown, fair skin, and the skirt fit on her body, revealing the obvious curves of the female body. But the skirt was stained mostly red with mottled blood, and none of the skin below her neck was intact, and the marks of the whipping could be clearly seen on it.

A wounded woman?

"Who are you?"

Her movements stiffened for a moment, as if she recognized my voice, and then weakly turned her head to answer me: "It's me, Mr. Edward Madison, I ...... I didn't know you were still awake, I'll… leave."

She struggled to sit up but failed repeatedly because of her weakness, and could only look at me with supplicating eyes. This face is bloodless, but also stunningly beautiful. Especially a pair of lips dazzling red.

I slowly walked up to her and looked down at her.

A wounded beauty looking at herself so pitifully, the average man would immediately lend a helping hand, let alone it was already midnight.

"Is this the play you always put on in front of my father?"

"What? No, I'm not." She looked rather hurt and was about to burst into tears.

"Oh really? Then what are you doing appearing in front of me like this?"

"I'm sorry… But, I…" As if she couldn't support herself anymore, she started to cover her face and sob in a small voice. The baby-like sobs put me in a somewhat irritable mood, and I leaned down and pulled her hand away, and her tear-stained and bloodied face appeared in front of me.

I lifted her chin with my other hand and looked at her carefully, her sadness did not seem fake. A pair of beautiful eyes slightly red because of crying. I have to admit, she does have the ability to confuse my father, many people cry ugly, but she cries like a flower bud with dew falling on it, and cries like a beautiful painting.

"It's beautiful," I exclaimed from the bottom of my heart. My thumb unconsciously stroked the tender skin in my hand. It was my subconscious act that even I did not react to, or the emerald ring on my finger reflected a dazzling light in the light that brought me back to my senses, and before she could recover from my erratic attitude, I had let her go.

"Too bad it's a whore." With those words, I closed the door behind me.

"If I find you anywhere near this room next time, your pretty face may not be saved, understand?" Seeing her face covered with horror and tears falling down her face again, I nodded with satisfaction and left the place.

Cynthia's POV

His words were like a sharp knife into my heart, and the glimmer of hope was turned into pieces that shattered my self-esteem and my body and mind.

I tried to defend myself but was unable to do so. I could only break down and cover my face and cry.

He complimented my face and then let go of me like a piece of trash. I was warned to stay out of the room. I covered my mouth to keep from screaming, and my tears welled up.

Cynthia, you are too stupid, they are father and son, kindness for Richard Madison is a mask, and Arther does not even bother to pretend, he is a cold-blooded monster from beginning to end.

I slowly crawled back to the attic, lay down on the bed and put the only covers over my head, and cried myself to sleep.

Mom and Dad, I miss you guys so much.