LOGINHAZEL (AUTHOR POV)
The night was long and freezing. Hazel sat huddled in the dark storage room, her body trembling violently. The rain was pouring heavily outside, and the cold wind seeped through the cracks of the walls, biting her skin like needles. She had no blanket. She had no food. Her stomach was empty, growling in pain, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything for almost two days. But she didn’t make a sound. She bit her lip until it bleed, holding back her sobs. She knew if she made any noise, Xander would only get angrier. He might even throw her out into the real rain. Be strong, Hazel, she whispered to herself in the dark. For Papa. Just endure. Just a little more. Morning came, but the pain didn’t go away. Hazel heard the maids starting to move around the house. She knew she had to go out. If she didn’t show up, they would punish her again. Slowly, she stood up. Her head spun, and she almost fell. Her legs were like jelly, weak and numb. She fixed her messy hair and wiped her face, trying to look presentable even though she looked like a ghost. When she opened the door and walked out into the hallway, she almost bumped into Selene. Selene was wearing Xander’s shirt, looking fresh and beautiful. She was walking out of their room, yawning lazily. “Oh!” Selene pretended to be surprised when she saw Hazel. “You’re still alive? I thought you died in there!” Hazel lowered her head and tried to walk past her. “Excuse me.” But Selene blocked her way. She grabbed Hazel’s arm tightly. “Where do you think you’re going? Look at you! You look so dirty and smelly! Did you sleep with the rats?” Selene laughed loudly. “No wonder Xander hates you. You’re disgusting.” She pushed Hazel hard against the wall. “Listen well, you ugly thing. Today, I will be staying here. You will serve me. You will do everything I say. And if you dare tell Xander anything, or if you look at him the wrong way… I will make your life a living hell.” “I understand,” Hazel said lifelessly. She had no energy to fight back anymore—The whole day, Hazel became Selene’s personal slave. “Hey! Bring me water!” “Massage my feet!” “Iron my clothes!” “Clean my shoes!” Hazel did everything. Her hands were already rough and calloused from all the work, but now they were even more damaged from scrubbing and washing. At lunch time, Selene ordered a lot of expensive food. Lobster, steak, cakes, everything. Hazel stood beside the table, serving her. The smell of the food was making her dizzy. Her stomach was twisting in pain, begging for just a single crumb. Selene noticed her staring. “Oh? Are you hungry?” Selene asked, a wicked grin on her face. Hazel didn’t answer. She just looked down. “Too bad,” Selene said, taking a big bite of steak. “This food is for people with class. Not for trash like you. Xander said you don’t deserve to eat good food.” She ate slowly, savoring every bite, while Hazel watched, salivating and suffering. When Selene was full, there was still a lot of food left. Half-eaten steak, slices of pizza, and cake. Hazel’s eyes followed the food as Selene stood up. Maybe… maybe she will give it to me, she hoped foolishly. But Selene did something cruel. She called the maid. “Throw all of this away,” she ordered. “I don’t want leftovers. And make sure that beggar doesn’t get any.” “Yes, Miss.” Hazel watched in agony as the delicious food was carried away to the trash bin. Food that could have filled her empty stomach was wasted just to humiliate her. She leaned against the wall, feeling faint. The world started to turn black, Just a little more… just hold on… THE ACCIDENT In the afternoon, Mrs. Kingston and Tiffany came home. They saw Selene and were delighted. “Oh! Selene dear! You are so beautiful!” Mrs. Kingston hugged her. “You are the only one worthy of my son. Not that ugly witch over there.” They all looked at Hazel who was mopping the floor. “Hazel!” Tiffany called. “Come here! Carry my bags! They are heavy!” Hazel dropped the mop and walked towards them. She tried to lift the heavy luggage, but her arms were weak. Her hands were shaking. “Hurry up! You are so slow!” Tiffany shouted, pushing her from behind. Because she was weak and dizzy, Hazel lost her balance. CRASH! The bags fell to the ground, and some of Tiffany’s things spilled out. “You idiot!” Tiffany screamed. She kicked Hazel on the leg. “Look what you did! Are you blind? Are you stupid?” “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” Hazel cried, crouching down to pick up the things. Mrs. Kingston walked over and kicked her too, on her side. “Useless creature! We feed you and give you shelter and you can’t even carry a bag! You are good for nothing!” Hazel curled up on the floor, protecting her head as they kicked and scolded her. She didn’t fight back. She just took it. She was used to the pain. Suddenly, the front door opened. Xander arrived. Hazel looked up, tears streaming down her face. “Xander… help…” She thought, surely, he will stop them. Even if he hates me, he won’t let them kill me, right? But Xander just stood there, looking at her lying on the floor being kicked by his mother and sister. His face was cold, void of any emotion. “What is this noise?” he asked coldly. “Xander!” Tiffany cried fake tears. “She dropped my bags! She broke my perfume! She’s so clumsy and bad luck!” Xander walked closer. He looked down at Hazel with pure disgust. “Can’t you even do one simple thing right?” he said, his voice like ice. “You are always causing trouble. Get out of my sight. You make me sick.” He didn’t help her up. He didn’t tell them to stop. He just walked past her, stepping over her body as if she was just a piece of trash on the road. Hazel lay there, shattered. He saw her being hurt. He saw her crying. And he didn’t care. THE NIGHT OF SICKNESS That evening, Hazel’s body finally gave up. She was feeling very hot, then very cold. Her head was throbbing painfully, and her throat was dry and sore. She had a high fever. She tried to stand up to prepare dinner, but she fell back on the hard sofa. She couldn’t move anymore. Xander came into the room with Selene. They were laughing and talking. When they saw Hazel lying down, Selene stopped. “Xander, look at her. She’s just lying there. Is she sick?” Xander checked Hazel’s forehead with the back of his hand, but only briefly. His touch was cold. “She’s just faking it,” he said dismissively. “She wants attention. She always does this drama to get sympathy.” “But she looks really pale…” Selene said, though she was smiling inside. “Let her be. If she dies, then good riddance. We can just bury her and get married properly.” Those words pierced Hazel’s heart more than any sickness. He wanted her dead. They left her there. They went to the other guest room to sleep, leaving Hazel alone in the big, cold room with her fever and pain. Hazel was burning up. She was thirsty. She needed water. She tried to reach for the glass on the table, but her hand couldn’t reach it. She was too weak. “Water…” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Please… water…” No one answered. The room was silent. She closed her eyes, tears flowing from the corners of her eyes. God, are you there? she thought weakly. Why is this happening to me? I didn’t do anything bad. I tried to be good. I tried to be patient. Is this my punishment? To suffer like this? She felt like she was floating. The pain was slowly fading, replaced by a strange numbness. Maybe… maybe it’s better if I don’t wake up, she thought. Maybe death is better than being the Billionaire’s Unwanted Wife. But even in her delirium, her survival instinct kicked in. She gripped the blanket tightly. No… I can’t die. I have to live. I have to endure. No matter how hard it is, I will survive. I will live through this hell. And so, Hazel endured. She suffered in silence, alone in the dark, proving to herself and to everyone that she was stronger than they thought. She stayed. She endured. But little did she know, her body was hiding a secret that would change everything… TO BE CONTINUEHAZEL (AUTHOR POV) The fever raged inside her body, burning her from within, but Hazel knew better than to expect mercy. She forced herself out of bed before the sun rose, her legs shaking like jelly, her head spinning so badly she had to hold onto the walls just to move. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was terrifyingly thin. Her skin was stretched tight over her bones, looking like parchment paper. Her eyes were sunken deep into their sockets, surrounded by dark circles. She looked like she was already dead, just walking around. That morning, Mrs. Kingston decided that the entire kitchen floor needed to be scrubbed with a hard brush. “Hazel!” the old woman shouted, throwing a bucket of soapy water and a metal brush at her. “Scrub every inch of this floor! I want it so clean that you can eat from it! Do not stand up until you are done! If you leave even a single stain, you will sleep outside tonight!” “Yes, Mother,” Hazel whispered. She knelt down on the cold, hard tile
HAZEL (AUTHOR POV) The pain was no longer just physical; it had seeped into her very soul, turning her heart into a cold stone. Hazel moved through each day like a walking corpse, her eyes empty, her face expressionless. She had stopped crying long ago because tears were a luxury she could no longer afford. One morning, Mrs. Kingston decided to clean the attic. It was a huge, dusty room filled with old furniture and boxes that hadn't been touched in years. “Hazel!” the old woman shouted, pointing at the stairs. “Go up there and clean every corner! Move all those heavy boxes! I want the place spotless by noon! And wear this old rag so you don’t dirty your clothes!” She threw a dirty piece of cloth at her. Hazel wrapped it around herself and climbed the dark, creaky stairs. The attic was hot, stuffy, and filled with thick dust that made her cough violently. The air was so heavy it was hard to breathe. She started moving the boxes. They were incredibly heavy, filled with old books
HAZEL (AUTHOR POV) The days continued to bleed into one another, a never-ending cycle of labor and pain. Hazel had grown so small, so quiet, that she was almost invisible. She moved like a breeze, doing her work, absorbing the blows, and existing only to survive. One morning, Mrs. Kingston decided that the carpets in every room needed to be taken out and beaten until every speck of dust was gone. "Hazel!" she shouted, throwing a heavy stick at her feet. "Take all these carpets outside! Beat them until they are clean! Do not leave any dust! If I see even one particle, you will repeat it all day!" Hazel looked at the huge, heavy carpets. They were thick and heavy, weighing more than her entire body. But she didn't complain. She grabbed one end and pulled with all her might. Drag... Drag... She pulled them outside one by one. Her arms were shaking, her fingers turning white from gripping so hard. She was sweating profusely under the scorching sun. Her skin was burning, turning red a
HAZEL (AUTHOR POV) The pain had become so familiar that Hazel barely noticed it anymore. It was like the air she breathed—always there, constant and suffocating. She moved through the days like a ghost, her body thin and frail, barely holding onto life. One morning, Mrs. Kingston decided that the windows of the entire mansion needed to be cleaned. Not just wiped, but polished until they were invisible. “Hazel!” the old woman called, throwing a roll of newspaper and a bottle of vinegar solution at her. “Clean every window! From the inside and outside! I want them so clean that birds will crash into them because they can’t see the glass! If there is even a single streak, you will do it all again!” “Yes, Mother,” Hazel whispered—She started with the lower windows. She sprayed the solution and wiped it with the newspaper, her arms moving up and down, up and down. Her muscles screamed, but she ignored them. When she finished the ground floor, she had to go up the ladder to clean the s
HAZEL (AUTHOR POV) The morning sun was barely visible through the thick curtains when Hazel opened her eyes. She felt like she had slept for only a minute. Her body was heavy, and every movement felt like a struggle. She sat up slowly, rubbing her aching back, and looked at her reflection in the small, dusty mirror on the wall. She barely recognized herself. Her cheeks were hollow, her skin was as pale as paper, and her eyes were surrounded by dark circles. She looked like a walking corpse, kept alive only by sheer will and the love she held for her father. She stood up and went to the kitchen. It was still early, but she knew that if she didn't start working immediately, Mrs. Kingston would have a fit. Today was laundry day again. But this time, it was worse—The family had decided to change all the curtains and bedsheets in the entire mansion. There were piles and piles of heavy, wet fabric waiting for her. “Hazel!” Mrs. Kingston shouted, pointing to the mountain of clothes. “Was
Hazel (author POV) The pain was a constant companion now, a dull ache that lived in every bone and muscle of her body. Hazel woke up before dawn, as she always did, her body stiff and sore from the hard floor she slept on. She looked at her arms in the dim light—covered in old bruises that were turning yellow, and new ones that were still dark and painful. She stood up slowly, feeling the world spin a little. She was so hungry, her stomach felt like it was eating itself. But she knew there would be no breakfast for her unless she finished all her work first and if the family allowed it. That morning, Mrs. Kingston decided that the entire house needed to be scrubbed from top to bottom. “Hazel!” the old woman shouted, throwing a bucket and a rough brush at her feet. “I want every tile in this house cleaned! Scrub them until they shine! Do not use the mop! Use your hands and knees! If I see even a speck of dust, you will do it all over again!” “Yes, Mother,” Hazel whispered. She fi
HAZEL (AUTHOR POV) The night seemed endless. Hazel sat on the cold balcony, her body trembling violently. The wind was sharp, biting through her thin clothes, making her bones ache. She could hear the faint sound of laughter and television coming from inside the room, a stark reminder of how happ
HAZEL (AUTHOR POV) Days turned into weeks, and Hazel’s life remained the same—a never-ending cycle of labor, hunger, and insults. The mansion was beautiful, filled with luxury and expensive things, but for her, it was nothing but a prison. She lived in the corners, invisible unless they needed som
HAZEL (AUTHOR POV)Darkness engulfed her senses. The pain was no longer a sharp sting, but a dull, heavy ache that had settled deep into her bones. She was burning up, her skin hot to the touch, yet she felt as if ice water was running through her veins.Her breathing was shallow and ragged. Every
HAZEL (AUTHOR POV) The night was long and freezing. Hazel sat huddled in the dark storage room, her body trembling violently. The rain was pouring heavily outside, and the cold wind seeped through the cracks of the walls, biting her skin like needles.She had no blanket. She had no food. Her stoma







