Chapter 1

I was born unable to feel physical pain.

When I was five, my jealous cousin, Chloe, cornered me when no one else was around. She shoved a sharp hairpin deep under my fingernail.

I didn't even flinch.

But suddenly, she clutched her own hand, screaming and rolling on the floor in agony.

When I was fifteen, Brittany, the most popular girl in school, pushed me down a flight of concrete stairs.

I simply stood up, brushed the dust off my clothes, and acted as if nothing had happened.

She, however, let out a bloodcurdling shriek, collapsing to her knees as she clutched her shattered legs.

Later, my parents took me to see Caleb, a renowned spiritual medium.

He told them I had a unique curse called Karmic Retribution.

Anyone who harmed me with malicious intent would suffer ten times the pain they wished upon me.

From then on, no one dared to lay a finger on me.

Until the night of my engagement gala.

Julian's precious childhood sweetheart, Lila, deliberately slashed the back of her own hand with a piece of broken glass.

With tear-filled eyes, she looked at me, sobbing.

"Maeve, if you don't like me, you could have just said so. Why did you have to hurt me like this?"

Julian immediately pulled her into his arms, shielding her. He glared at me, his voice sharp and commanding. "Apologize to Lila right now!"

I looked at the tiny, superficial scratch on the back of her hand. It was almost laughable.

So, I calmly held out my own hand.

"Since you insist I did it, why don't you do the same to me?"

Lila froze for a second, then let out a cold, mocking laugh.

"You asked for this, Maeve."

"Don't regret it."

She spun around, grabbed a mug of scalding hot coffee from a nearby tray, and splashed it violently toward my bare arm.

In the very next second, the malicious smirk on her face completely froze.

Lila looked down at her own hands.

Her fair skin flushed bright red, and then blisters bubbled up before their eyes.

The entire ballroom fell dead silent.

Then, a piercing shriek shattered the air.

"Ahhh! My hands! My hands!"

Lila dropped the mug, thrashing on the floor in pure agony.

Julian's face went pale. He ripped off his tuxedo jacket, wrapped her up, and scooped her into his arms, running toward the exit.

As he rushed past me, he threw me a look of pure hatred.

"Maeve, what kind of sick, twisted trick did you play on her?!"

My arm was still stretched out in the air.

My skin only looked slightly pink.

I couldn't smell any burning flesh, nor could I feel the heat.

So, I answered him honestly.

"The waiter just brought that coffee out. She threw it herself."

"Stop lying!"

Julian's eyes burned with rage.

"If Lila scars from this, I'll make sure you pay for it ten times over!"

My mother took two steps to chase after him, but then she abruptly stopped.

She turned and looked at my arm. Her voice began to tremble.

"Maeve... put your hand down."

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Just listen to me. Put it down."

The moment I lowered my arm, a thick layer of burnt skin slid right off my elbow, peeling away.

Raw, bloody flesh was exposed to the cold air.

The surrounding guests gasped, recoiling in horror.

My mother's face drained of all color.

I stared at my mangled arm, then looked toward the door where Julian had disappeared.

"Oh," I murmured. "I guess I was badly hurt too."

Before the words could fully leave my mouth, my vision went pitch black.

When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed.

My left arm was wrapped so tightly in white bandages that it looked like a wooden log.

Dr. Tanner was standing by the bedside. Seeing my eyes open, he tapped the bed rail with his pen.

"Maeve, do you have any idea how long you've been unconscious?"

"No."

"Eight whole hours!"

He was practically vibrating with suppressed anger.

"After a scalding burn like that, you waited over twenty minutes to get help. If you had arrived any later, we wouldn't have been able to save this arm."

My mother was sitting by the window, keeping silent.

She had a fierce temper in her youth, and after marrying my father, she became even more untouchable.

Right now, she was just staring coldly at the door.

From the hallway outside, Julian's muffled, defensive voice drifted in.

"Lila literally went into shock from the pain! How could I have cared about Maeve first?"

"Maeve's arm looked completely fine. How was I supposed to know it was that serious?"

My mother threw the door open.

"Get the hell out."

Standing behind Julian were two senior members of the Vance family.

Julian clearly didn't expect my mother to humiliate him like this in public. His pride was wounded.

"Mrs. Sterling, I was only worried about Lila."

"Who you worry about has nothing to do with my daughter." My mother's voice was ice. "The engagement is off."

Julian frowned.

"Our families are in the middle of a massive multi-million dollar merger. You can't just throw away our future over an accident."

"An accident?" My mother turned to me. "Maeve, did she throw that coffee with malicious intent?"

"Yes."

"How can you be so sure?" Julian sneered from the doorway. "Lila's hands are mutilated, yet Maeve is still trying to frame her?"

My mother took a deep breath.

"Listen to me carefully, Julian. The Sterling Group can pull out of the West Side Development project at any second. And this wedding? It's dead."

Julian's expression darkened instantly.

The room fell into an incredibly tense silence. Finally, one of the Vance elders nudged Julian from behind.

Reluctantly, Julian walked up to my bedside.

"I'm sorry."

The apology was mumbled, forced, and stiff.

I looked at him calmly. "Who are you apologizing for?"

"Lila just lost her head in the heat of the moment."

"Is she awake?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Then tell her to come here and apologize herself."

Julian closed his eyes, exhaling a frustrated sigh.

"All ten of her fingers are severely burned. She can't even hold a cup of water right now. Maeve, you're lying here looking perfectly fine. Why do you have to push her into a corner?"

Suddenly, Caleb's words echoed in my mind.

The deeper the malice, the worse the backlash.

Lila's injuries were ten times worse than mine.

That meant the damage she wanted to inflict on me was far worse than just peeling a layer of skin. She wanted to ruin my life.