Chapter 3

The moment they heard that, whoever might have stepped in to help scattered.

The thugs seized the chance and dragged me into a van.

My face was swollen and throbbing, and in the panic I hit the wrong contact and dialed Ervin.

I didn't care by then. All I could do was beg for help.

"Ervin, help me, someone's grabbed me, please help me."

But the voice that answered was a woman's.

"Ervin, it's my sister calling."

Ervin frowned and reached for the phone.

"The voice didn't sound right. What's happening with your sister?"

Before his hand could touch it, my brother pulled it away.

His tone was careless. "Tessa took something of Beryl's. I sent people to get it back. That's probably why she's calling you."

"It's nothing. She's just being dramatic."

The line dropped to a flat dial tone.

My phone got flung out the window, my collar was yanked and my body slammed hard against the seat, and the wound on my arm split open.

"Hand over that dead father of yours winemaking recipe."

"Man, you can still—"

A hand clamped down on my throat. I had no strength left to fight, and I shut my eyes in despair.

The next second, the speeding van jolted with the sound of impact.

The window shattered, and a hand reached in and threw the door open.

It grabbed the man choking me and hurled him straight out.

Bodyguards pulled the others away first thing.

"You son of a bitch, screwing up my job."

"I got paid for this."

The cursing wouldn't stop.

Before I could even process it, I was pulled down out of the van.

My best friend threw her arms around me.

"God, you scared me half to death. Good thing I came to the hospital early to pick you up, or something terrible would've happened to you."

"Are you really sure? No wedding, you come with me?"

"Didn't you always want to marry Ervin?"

I laughed at myself.

I picked up my phone and showed her the livestream.

"I used to. Not anymore."

"I'm tired. If you need a winemaker, I'll come work there."

"As long as it puts me far away from those people at home, that's enough."

Debbie nodded, then turned to her own older brother.

"Deal with these people. I'm taking Tessa to pack first."

"Since Tessa doesn't care about those relatives of hers anymore, handle it however you want. Better if it hurts them a little."

The livestream was still running.

Except the comments weren't very happy.

【We came to see cultural heritage, not to listen to your brother swear.】

【Host, can you even do this? If you can't, get offline. This is embarrassing.】

【And weren't you going to share the winemaking recipe? Were you just talking big?】

【Fraud host. Fraud host.】

The tourism board people and Beryl's little assistant both looked mortified.

Beryl watched the comments, fighting to keep her temper in check, forcing her face back into something pitiful.

"The recipe has always been with my sister."

"Everyone, please be patient. Let's move to the next step. Once she arrives, I promise I'll share the recipe."

Ervin frowned, and for the first time spoke up against her.

"The recipe was left behind by Tessa's father before he died. She's always treasured it. Why should she share it?"

Her mother cut in.

"I'm the one who gave birth to her. Her father's dead. Why can't she take it out and give it to her stepsister?"

"She has to give way to her stepsister—"

The ugly words drove into Ervin like thorns.

Once again he felt, plainly, how suffocating Tessa's life was.

Whenever she used to complain, he'd only thought she was making a fuss over nothing.

Just buying her sister one dress with money from a part-time job. But everything in Tessa's life, her food, her clothes, her roof, all of it cost money.

And still she was expected to take her little bit of money and buy things for people who already had plenty.

Not buying meant she was stingy.

Not obeying meant she was bullying her sister.

Hearing someone defend her, Beryl only grew smugger.

"I'm the Pruitt princess. Everyone should listen to me."

"If you won't, I'll record you and post it online and let my followers tear you apart."

She pulled out her phone and aimed the camera at Ervin.

"Everybody come look, we've got a real saint over here."

"All I want is to share a winemaking recipe with you all, and this guy won't let me. Go on, tear him apart."

"Tear this—"

Ervin's hand shot up and knocked the phone away. "Can you stop with this crap?"

The car looped back to the house on the way.

I took my winemaking notes and the recipe out of the cramped storeroom where I lived.

My best friend held onto me, her eyes steady.

"From now on, things will only get better. No one will ever be able to hurt you again."