"You... fix my arm right now!" Chloe screamed. She was genuinely terrified. What kind of freakish monster was Stella? How could a simple tap paralyze her entirely?
Stella smirked. "I could. But you're going to have to beg."
"Mom! Look at her! Make her fix it!" Chloe refused to surrender her pride to Stella, desperately hoping Miranda would step in.
"It doesn't matter who you cry to, Chloe. You have two choices: tell me exactly where you got that perfume, or beg me on your knees. Otherwise, in exactly thirty minutes, that arm is going to be permanently paralyzed. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Cowards like Chloe, who only preyed on the weak, were the easiest to break. It would be a waste not to terrify her a little.
As the elder, Miranda refused to lower herself to plead with a younger generation. Technically, she was Stella's stepmother. How could a stepmother beg her stepdaughter?
Instead, she turned to her panicked daughter. "Chloe, it's just a bottle of perfume! Tell her where you bought it!
If she manages to buy it, good for her. If she can't, it's not your problem. Do you really want to lose your arm over this?"
Chloe glared with tears in her eyes. "Fix my arm first, then I'll tell you."
"Not a chance. You're exactly like your mother—a liar with zero integrity. The second I fix it, you'll go back on your word."
Neither of them had a shred of credibility. They had manipulated and lied to her endlessly when she was a child, and ten years hadn't changed them a bit.
"You..."
"You..."
Both mother and daughter were so livid they were practically choking on their rage.
Her mouth was absolutely toxic!
But terrified that her arm really would rot and fall off after thirty minutes, Chloe spat out the truth. "I bought it from a senior at my university three months ago."
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