Chapter 5

Willow POV

When I woke again, blinding white filled my vision.

Daniel sat on the sofa nearby. Seeing me awake, his expression was calm. "I've already paid all the medical bills. Rest well. If you hadn't gone too far, things wouldn't have escalated to this point."

I closed my eyes, too lazy to even give him a glance.

Daniel waited a few seconds. Getting no response, he rarely softened his tone.

"All right. Didn't you want to hold your birthday party on a yacht this year? Quinn has already arranged everything. You just need to show up. Stop throwing tantrums."

I kept my eyes closed, as if I'd heard nothing.

After two more days in the hospital, I calculated that only three days remained. I had one more thing I had to do.

Find Buddy a safe home.

Buddy was a stray dog Daniel and I had picked up together on the street when I first came to this world at fifteen.

I only wanted him to live in peace.

But once I left, there was no guarantee Quinn wouldn't poison him.

With this thought, I ignored my still-unhealed body and forcibly checked myself out of the hospital.

Dragging my still-aching body back to the villa, I was greeted only by deathly silence.

I searched every corner of the house but couldn't find that white figure that always wagged its tail and bounded toward me.

My heart sank bit by bit.

I immediately found Daniel in the study. "Where's Buddy?"

Daniel looked up from his documents, his tone as flat as if discussing the weather. "Quinn is allergic to dog hair. I had someone send him to the estate in the suburbs."

He paused, then added, "It's just a dog. Don't make a big deal out of it."

My heart plummeted to rock bottom. Without another word, I grabbed the car keys and rushed out.

At the suburban estate, I found that dark storage room. Pushing open the door, a heavy smell of blood hit me in the face.

Buddy lay collapsed in the corner, covered in blood. His white fur was stained red. Only faint breathing proved he was still alive.

My tears burst forth instantly. I threw myself over, my hands shaking so much I could barely hold him.

I demanded hoarsely of the watching worker: "What happened?! Who did this?!"

The worker answered trembling: "This afternoon, Miss Quinn came. Said the dog barked at her and she wanted to personally teach it a lesson. She beat it with a baseball bat..."

Hatred instantly consumed me.

But I couldn't spare another thought. I scooped up the dying Buddy and stumbled to the car, pressing the gas pedal like a madwoman toward the city.

Before we reached the city, the small, warm body in my arms gave a final, gentle twitch, and the breathing stopped.

Buddy was gone.

He died in my arms.

I pulled over on a desolate stretch of road and sat there, holding his body while it was still faintly warm, for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, I found a quiet spot in the suburbs and buried him with my own hands.

When I returned to the villa, it was already late at night.

Quinn was leisurely nestled on the living room sofa with a face mask. Hearing movement, she lazily looked up.

Seeing me covered in dust, my soul seemingly lost, a mocking smile had just curved her lips.

But before that smile fully formed, I rushed over, grabbed her hair, and violently yanked her down from the sofa.