Cornelia's POV
I never grasped how people could feel overwhelming joy or crushing sadness. The concept of laughing until tears streamed down your face or sobbing until your eyes puffed up remained foreign to me.
Those intense emotions had always been strangers to my heart, even during childhood.
Something essential seemed absent from my emotional makeup, as if crucial components had been left out during assembly. Or perhaps they had simply withered away before I could discover their purpose.
The feelings I knew intimately were darker companions: hatred, fury, terror, and desire. The last one had awakened during adolescence, while the others had been my constant shadows for as long as memory served.
Currently, pure rage coursed through my veins, making my entire body shake with its intensity.
"What did you just say?" The words scraped from my throat as my hands balled into fists, fingernails cutting crescents into my palms. "You're getting married?"
"That's right," she replied, her smile stretching impossibly wide as she admired the sparkling diamond adorning her finger. The engagement ring caught the afternoon light, throwing rainbow fragments across the wall. "Just look at how it shines!"
"It's been only a short while," I said, my voice trembling with barely contained emotion. "His corpse is still fresh in the ground and you're already planning another wedding?"
My parents had never shared anything resembling love or affection. Their relationship consisted of constant warfare, with screaming matches that inevitably dragged me into the crossfire. Those battles always concluded with my skin painted in shades of purple and blue.
I despised them both equally. Fear had once dominated my feelings toward them, but one morning I simply decided enough was enough. No more cowering, no more terror. Only hatred would remain, burning steady and eternal.
The fact that she was rushing into marriage so soon after burying her husband didn't shock me.
What infuriated me was her complete lack of pretense about grieving. The neighbors would notice, tongues would wag, and judgments would follow.
My mother's shoulders lifted in an indifferent shrug as she turned from the window, fixing me with that familiar expression of contempt and dismissal.
"I assumed when you developed into a woman, you might develop some intelligence too," she sneered. "Clearly I was mistaken. When fortune presents itself, Cornelia, you seize it without hesitation. Let the critics burn in hell." She swept past me toward the exit. "I'm putting this place on the market. We'll be living in his mansion the moment I say 'I do.'"
The wedding proceeded without me. My mother's phone buzzed constantly with her furious calls, but I ignored every single attempt. Instead of returning home, I crashed at a friend's apartment and went to my part-time job from there. Eventually, my friend's patience wore thin, and I couldn't impose any longer.
Shortly after the ceremony, I finally answered one of Mom's calls.
"You foolish brat," she hissed, venom dripping from every syllable. "Do you realize what stories I had to fabricate? We needed to present ourselves as a loving family. My new husband and his relatives expected to see unity!"
"I'm confident you crafted something believable," I responded in a monotone voice. "Text me the address. I'll head over after my shift ends."
"You and your—"
The line went dead as I hung up, shoving the phone into my bag before returning to work.
Every instinct screamed against going there. I refused to give my mother the satisfaction of thinking she still controlled me, but circumstances left me no alternatives. Apartment hunting was impossible while I saved every penny for college tuition.
I would go, but I wouldn't participate in her charade of family harmony. I'd endure whatever cruelty she dished out. Just a short while until graduation, then I'd escape to college forever.
When I saw the address my mother sent, I immediately knew her new husband wasn't some ordinary businessman. The mansion that greeted me confirmed every suspicion.
The structure loomed like a fortress, complete with intimidating walls and imposing gates. A uniformed attendant appeared the moment my taxi departed, efficiently collecting my belongings while escorting me inside.
"Welcome, Miss Cornelia," a distinguished man in an immaculate suit greeted me, adjusting wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose as my luggage disappeared. "I'm Pierce, the butler. Please don't hesitate to contact me for any assistance you might require."
"Thank you," I replied with a brief nod.
Pierce guided me through an endless corridor adorned with expensive artwork until we reached a sitting room where my mother waited. Once alone, she immediately sprang to her feet, storming toward me with hands planted firmly on her hips and fury blazing in her eyes.
"You will not sabotage this opportunity for me, Cornelia," she whispered harshly, invading my personal space. "You'll conduct yourself properly. You'll be the ideal daughter, smiling on cue and speaking respectfully."
"And if I refuse?" I asked, deliberately provoking her. "What's your plan, Mom? Physical violence? Starvation? Or perhaps your signature move of imprisoning me in that pitch-black closet without food or water?"
Her face flushed deeper red with each word, her breathing becoming labored. As she opened her mouth to speak, I continued relentlessly, "You have zero power over me now. I'll behave exactly as I choose. Smile when it suits me, speak kindly or rudely depending on my mood. We both understand that our mutual hatred makes any pretense of family unity impossible. Eventually, your new husband will discover you're nothing but performance art. What then? Will you hunt for your next victim?"
Her complexion now matched a ripe tomato, breath coming in angry gasps. "You ungrateful—"
I saw the slap coming before her hand even moved, but I allowed the blow to connect. The sharp crack reverberated through the spacious room, though I barely registered the impact.
I gestured toward my cheek, where I knew a bruise was already forming. "So much for unity."
She advanced another step, but froze when an unfamiliar voice interrupted.
"Is there a problem here?"