The autumn wind howled with a chilling desolation.
At the women's prison in Toronto, the iron gates creaked open. Arya stepped out, bid a brief farewell to the prison guard, and made her way toward the black car parked across the street.
It was late autumn, yet she wore only a thin trench coat over a floral maxi dress, her pale, delicate calves exposed to the cold. Her face was pallid, and her already slender frame now appeared even more fragile. A year ago, she had been imprisoned for her involvement in an economic fraud—a scheme masterminded by her own father. Once the celebrated princess of Toronto, she had been reduced to a convict, enduring relentless torment behind bars. Beneath her coat, her body bore the marks of abuse—bruises and scabs that told a harrowing tale.
She pulled open the car door and slid inside. Beside her sat an elderly man with silver hair, who didn’t even glance her way. As the door clicked shut, he uttered a cold command: “Drive.”
The car started moving, and Arya leaned against the window, gazing at the passing scenery. In just a year, the city she once knew so well now felt both familiar and foreign.
“First, we’ll stop at a mall. Dressed like that, you’re an embarrassment,” the old man suddenly said, his voice sharp.
Arya turned her gaze toward him, her expression resolute. “No need. Take me to the Clark residence first.”
She was determined to return home in these very clothes—to let her parents and sister see firsthand the suffering she had endured over the past year.
The elderly man’s displeasure was evident, his voice turning colder and more stern. "You’re about to become a member of the Anderson family. Don’t do anything that would bring shame to us."
Arya smiled faintly, her tone calm but resolute. "Don’t worry. After tonight, I’ll remember exactly who I am."
Old Man Anderson said nothing more, simply instructing the driver to take the car to the Clark residence.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the car came to a smooth stop in front of the grand gates of the Clark family estate. The streetlights had already flickered on, casting a golden glow that made the mansion appear even more opulent and dazzling.
Arya let out a mocking laugh as she pushed the car door open and stepped out. "I’ll be at the Anderson family’s doorstep by nine tomorrow morning," she said with a slight bow to Old Man Anderson before shutting the door firmly behind her. Without a backward glance, she strode toward the entrance of the Clark estate.
She reached out to enter the security code, but as expected, it had already been changed. Her eyes turned icy, and she pressed the doorbell with a sharp, insistent jab.
It took nearly five minutes before someone finally rushed out to open the door. The servant froze at the sight of Arya, stammering after a long pause, "Second... Second Miss..."
Arya’s gaze swept over the servant with chilling indifference. She pushed past the woman, who was blocking her path, and marched inside.
"Second Miss, please wait..." The servant was clearly flustered, making several attempts to stop her.
In the past, Arya had always been gentle and kind to everyone in the Clark household. But now, seeing the servant’s frantic behavior, she knew all too well that there was something inside they didn’t want her to see.
As the woman reached out to grab her, Arya swiftly swung her hand towards her face.
"Who do you think you are? How dare you block my way!" Arya's voice was icy, her eyes blazing with fury.
Perhaps stunned by this unexpected side of Arya, the woman could only clutch her cheek, glaring at her with a mix of resentment and defiance. Yet, she didn't dare to obstruct her any further.
As she walked through the corridor, the sound of cheerful laughter reached her ears before she even entered the room.
Her eyes grew even colder.
Hmph, it seems she had returned at the worst possible time.
"My greatest happiness in life is seeing Lily marry well. Now that you've said that, I can finally rest assured and entrust our Lily to Charles," came the voice of her mother, Nora Clark, from the living room, brimming with excitement.
"Look at you talking like that. We adore Lily as if she were our own daughter. If Charles ever dares to mistreat her, I'll be the first to teach him a lesson," replied Evelyn.
"Mom, Mrs. Evelyn, please don't say that. Charles treats me very well. I won't allow you to wrong him like that," said Lily, Arya's elder sister.
"See what I mean? The young couple is deeply in love. She hasn't even married him yet, and she's already defending him," Nora feigned a scolding tone, though her heart was filled with joy.
Arya stepped into the room amidst their laughter. Before she even appeared, her voice had already cut through the air.
"So much joy. It seems I've returned at the wrong moment."
Her voice, cold and laced with mockery, carried a lazy undertone that instantly silenced the vast living room as soon as it echoed through.
Lily's face turned ghostly pale, her hands instinctively clutching the man beside her, her body trembling uncontrollably.
All eyes turned towards the source of the voice, where Arya, wrapped in a light gray trench coat, entered, her gaze sweeping over everyone present.
Her parents, her sister, her ex-fiancé, and his parents.
Slowly raising her hands, Arya clapped three times.
"What a blissful and harmonious family. But such a big event like my sister's wedding, and no one thought to inform me? How impolite of me, don't you think, brother-in-law?"
Her eyes fixed on Charles' face, the intensity of her gaze brimming with deep-seated hatred.
Charles showed no sign of panic, simply withdrawing his hand from Lily's tight grip and placing it on her shoulder instead.
He pulled the woman in his arms closer and said, "Actually, your sister and I discussed whether to wait until you were out before getting married. But your sister can wait, I can't, and the child in her belly can't wait either. Arya, you're not a child anymore, you understand, right?"
Arya shrugged, "Of course, although society is more open now, it's still frowned upon for a sister to climb into her brother-in-law's bed and use pregnancy to secure her position. As the epitome of a lady in Toronto, how could my sister let herself be the subject of gossip? As her sister, I understand her thoughts."
She spoke as if she was being reasonable, but the sarcasm at the corner of her mouth was unmistakable to anyone.
Seeing the woman in his arms being belittled and pitied, Charles naturally couldn't stand it and was about to lash out at Arya.
However, Arya shifted her tone and continued, "But what I never expected was my sister's sheer tenacity. After losing the first child, she still managed to pull the same trick again. What, haven't Mr. Hunter and Mrs. Hunter accepted you yet? Still need a child to secure your place in the Hunter family? Sister, you're truly pitiful."