"Because I carry dirty blood. Eaton abandoned me from the moment I was born. He despised me. He abused me, beat me, and cursed at me. When I turned eighteen, he even tried to force me to marry some perverted old creep. When I refused, he locked me up and starved me. Compared to me, you've lived a charmed, perfect life!"
If this were the Petty from years ago, her heart would have ached for Laura. But hearing it now, Petty only found it laughable. "Did I cause your misery?"
"No, you didn't," Laura gasped, her chest heaving. "But couldn't you have just stayed in your little bubble as the pampered heiress? Why did you have to steal Franco from me?"
"If I had married him, I could have finally been happy. All my trauma would have vanished. But you just had to ruin it!"
Laura pushed her hands fiercely into the mattress, desperately trying to pull herself up.
But no matter how hard she strained, the veins bulging on the back of her hands, her broken body refused to cooperate. She glared viciously at Petty, spitting out her darkest curse.
"I hate you, Petty! I wish you were dead!"
Smack!
A crisp slap echoed through the room, snapping Laura's head to the side.
"So you poisoned me!" The tranquil surface of Petty's gaze shattered, unleashing a torrent of raw, all-consuming hatred that threatened to swallow Laura alive.
Laura burst into manic, tearful laughter. "Yeah! I wanted both you and the bastard dead. Who knew you were so damn hard to kill? But at least I managed to stop—"
Smack!
Petty backhanded her again, splitting Laura's lip and drawing blood, cutting off her venomous words. She knew exactly what Laura was about to say.
Thinking of the damage inflicted on Abacus—his tiny body barely the size of a six-month-old at a year old—left a gaping, hollow ache in Petty's chest.
But thank God he was still here.
Thank God, thank God.
She would spend the rest of her life protecting and cherishing him.

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