CHAPTER 65: CHAPTER 65 I HAVE NO PLACE TO STAY

Ivy’s POV

I’d been so pleased to see Kane get what he deserved, but as Ryan stormed out, the reality hit me hard – I had no place in this house anymore.

I frantically rushed upstairs to my room, changing into my newest designer dress and fastening every piece of expensive jewelry I owned.

If the old lady was going to throw me out, I’d at least take something valuable with me.

I’d barely clasped the last diamond bracelet when Martha–that old witch who’d been the grandmother’s most loyal servant for decades–burst through my door.

Her wrinkled face twisted into something feral, hissing like an angry snake.

"You filthy little whore, seducing Young Master Kane! You deserve worse than death!" she shrieked, grabbing a fistful of my hair so violently my scalp burned.

Before I could even scream, three or four sturdy maids charged in, pouncing on me like hungry beasts, tearing at my clothes.

I struggled desperately, my voice caught in my throat. My dress ripped apart under their hands while they yanked off every piece of jewelry I’d just put on.

The cold air stung my exposed skin as shame washed over me like a tidal wave.

I curled into myself, trying to cover my body with my hands when I heard Grandmother Evelyn’s cruel voice from the doorway.

"Beat her! Then throw her out into the street when you’re done!"

When the first whip fell across my back, pain shot through me like lightning. I screamed out, only to receive an even harder lash in response.

"Please stop... please..." I sobbed, my voice breaking into pieces.

Nobody listened. The whip kept falling, and my consciousness started to fade. In my last clear thought, I realized my only chance was to pretend to faint.

I went limp, allowing myself to collapse to the floor. I could still hear their mocking laughter, but at least the whipping stopped.

"The slutty bitch passed out," someone sneered.

Rough hands forced me into a dress so thin it was practically transparent, then dragged me across the floor. I was thrown out the front gate like garbage.

The biting wind cut through me – October nights already carried winter’s chill. I lay motionless on the freezing ground until I was sure I couldn’t hear any sounds from the mansion before daring to open my eyes.

Every inch of my body felt like it had been run over by a truck. The whip marks burned against my skin.

Gritting my teeth, I dragged myself step by painful step toward my old apartment. Not a single passerby offered to help a woman with torn clothes and covered in wounds.

They just avoided my eyes and walked faster.

The most terrifying thing in this world isn’t the attack of evil people–it’s the indifference of good ones.

By the time I reached my apartment, it was deep into the night.

My fingers trembled as I unlocked the door and crawled into the bathroom. When warm water touched my wounds, I finally allowed myself to cry out loud.

I’d permit myself this one time to cry. Just this once.

The next morning, just after I’d changed into clean clothes, someone pounded on my door.

My landlord’s distorted face appeared when I opened it. "Get out now! I’m ending your lease!"

"Please, this place was arranged by Mr. Blackwood himself. You can’t just kick me out," I tried reasoning, though I already knew–Ryan had decided to completely destroy me.

He laughed coldly. "It’s exactly you I’m kicking out. I don’t care if you pissed off your sugar daddy or whatever happened. Move out immediately. You have until 1 PM. If you’re still here, I’ll throw all your stuff onto the street!"

I closed the door and leaned against it, feeling dizzy. Last night’s wounds still throbbed, and now I was about to lose my home too.

Everything was happening so fast–three months ago I thought I’d become part of the Blackwood family, and now I was about to be homeless.

I forced myself to pull it together and started packing my valuables.

I had some savings in my bank account, but not nearly enough to rent a decent apartment in this city. All those beautiful clothes I’d carefully chosen would have to stay behind.

Tears welled up again as I folded clothes while crying silently.

This was the second time I’d cried.

At noon, a commotion erupted outside my door. The landlord had arrived early with several burly men.

"You said I had until 1 PM! It’s only noon!" I pointed at the clock, trying to maintain my last shred of dignity.

The landlord shoved me aside so hard I stumbled. "Shut up, bitch! Don’t talk back to me! I brought people to help you move – shouldn’t you be grateful?"

The men barged in, roughly handling my belongings. My neatly folded clothes became crumpled heaps in their hands.

One of them stared at me, his eyes lighting up when he noticed the marks peeking from beneath my collar.

"Well, well... you look so innocent, but you’re into some kinky stuff, huh?" He licked his lips. "Why don’t you play with big brother here? If I enjoy it, maybe I’ll let you stay at my place!"

His filthy hand slapped my ass. Revulsion surged through me as I screamed, grabbed my suitcase, and bolted out the door. I’d rather be homeless than spend another second in that place.

I walked several blocks, making sure no one followed before stopping to catch my breath. Sitting on a park bench, I felt a despair I’d never known before.

Three months. In just three months, my life had plummeted from heaven to hell.

And it was all because of that Serena! If she hadn’t suddenly filed for divorce, Ryan would never have noticed me. Her retreat was just an advance in disguise–brilliant strategy!

Now she and Ryan were back to being the perfect couple, while I was left with nothing.

My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten in ages. I sighed, taking out my phone with my finger hovering over a contact I hadn’t reached out to in years–S, my "dead" sister Sophie.

How long had it been since we’d spoken?

Since she faked her death and left this city, our contact had become increasingly rare. She’d chosen a brand new life while I was still struggling here.

Now, I had no other choice.

Taking a deep breath, I pressed the call button. The phone rang three times before someone answered.

"Hello?" The voice was familiar yet strange.

"Sis... it’s me." My voice trembled. "I need help."