She Took Over My Perfect Life To Get Revenge, Only To Be Trapped In My Hell Chapter 08

She Took Over My Perfect Life To Get Revenge, Only To Be Trapped In My Hell Chapter 08

At seven that evening, I arrived at the Voss Estate right on time.

The moment I stepped into the ballroom, I heard my mother’s cold voice.

“Stand up straight. Suck it in.”

“Mrs. Wainwright will be here any minute. One screw–up tonight and I’ll break your legs.”

Maya was in a tight gown, her face white as a sheet.

The second she saw me, triumph flickered in her eyes–until my mother grabbed her by the chin

“Why’s your face swollen?”

Maya stepped back on instinct.

“I–I only had half a bowl of soup this afternoon.”

“Half a bowl?”

The next second, my mother’s hand cracked across her face.

“I told you–nothing before the gala.”

“If you can’t even control your own mouth, how do you expect to marry into the Wainwright family?”

The sharp crack of the slap echoed through the ballroom.

The guests nearby turned to look.

Maya covered her cheek, her eyes wide with shock.

She probably thought rich parents spoiled their daughters–designer clothes, jewelry, unlimited

black cards.

She’d never imagined my mother would slap her in front of a room full of people.

“Mom, people are watching…”

Hurt and humiliated, tears welled up instantly.

My mother’s expression only hardened.

“Why are you crying?”

“How are you supposed to face Mrs. Wainwright if you ruin your makeup?”

She grabbed Maya by the wrist and dragged her into a corner.

“Dr. Walker, deal with it.”

The family physician was already waiting, ice pack and syringe in hand.

Maya recoiled at the sight of the needle.

“What’s that?”

“A steroid shot.” My mother sounded impatient. “It’ll bring the swelling down in ten minutes.”

“I’m not getting it!”

Maya covered her face and screamed.

“I already got slapped! Now you want to stick a needle in my face too?”

The ballroom fell silent.

Several women exchanged looks, already amused.

Appearances were everything to my mother.

Maya’s outburst had stepped on her last nerve.

“Hold her down.”

Two staff stepped forward and pinned Maya by the shoulders.

The needle went into her swollen cheek.

She was trembling from the pain, but she didn’t dare cry–terrified of ruining her makeup.

I stood a short distance away and watched calmly.

When I was twelve, I gotten my first steroid shot. I cried and begged my mother to stop.

She just had someone hold me down.

She told me if I wanted to be better than everyone else, I had to suffer what others couldn’t.

Now, those words belonged to Maya.

A few minutes later, a stir rose near the entrance.

Declan’s mother Mrs. Wainwright had arrived.

The coldness vanished from my mother’s face as she hurried over to greet her.

“Finally! So glad you could make it.”

Mrs. Wainwright didn’t return the greeting. She simply looked Maya up and down.

“Seraphina’s been looking off lately.”

My mother’s smile froze.

“She’s been busy with the new semester. Not getting enough rest.”

“Is that so?”

Mrs. Wainwright’s gaze fell to Maya’s slightly trembling legs.

“Declan need a wife who can carry herself, not some fragile doll that shatters in a light wind.“/

Maya’s face went even paler.

But I knew this was only the first test.

Every time the families met up, Mrs. Wainwright would pick me apart from my posture and small

talk to my talents and table manners.

She’d never treated me like a future family.

To her, I was just a product waiting for inspection.

Soon, the staff brought out pre–dinner drinks.

Maya was clearly parched. She grabbed her glass and went straight for a sip.

My mother slapped a hand over hers.

“The elders haven’t touched theirs yet. What’s your hurry?”

Maya froze and slowly set the glass down.

A flicker of displeasure crossed Mrs. Wainwright’s eyes.

“Seraphina was always so well–mannered. What’s gotten into you today?”

“I…”

Cold sweat broke out across Maya’s forehead.

She had no idea I’d been memorizing pages of formal dining etiquette since I was six.

Who to greet first. How high to hold your glass. How many times to fold a napkin. Even how many teeth to show when you smile.

Everything had a rule.

A server approached me with a tray.

I smoothly took a glass, nodded first to Mrs. Wainwright, then to the host.

Every move was effortless.

Mrs. Wainwright glanced at me.

“And who’s this?”

Maya jumped at the chance to answer.

“Her name’s Maya. She’s my classmate.”

“Her family runs a diner. She insisted on coming tonight to see how the other half lives.”

One sentence was enough to drag my background through the mud.

A few young women nearby hid their smiles.

“So she’s a party crasher.”

“At least she dressed the part.”

Maya shot me a smug look.

She thought that without the Voss family name behind me, I’d still be nobody in their eyes.

I swirled my glass, about to speak, when Mrs. Wainwright pointed to the grand piano in the center

of the ballroom.

“If she’s Seraphina’s classmate, I’m sure she’s talented too.”

“Why don’t you each play us something?”

The smugness drained from Maya’s face.

She slowly turned toward the piano.

I’d already set down my glass.

“Should Ms. Voss go first, or should I?”