Marrying His Uncle

John's brows drew tight, and seeing the indifference on my face, he was about to explode.

But I spoke first, my tone gentle.

"Samantha, don't worry. I'm not upset. I didn't cut my wrists to force John's hand. I did it because I'm sick."

At once, John's expression hardened. "What did you just call me?"

After a pause, something seemed to strike him, and his frown deepened with unease. "Sick? What sickness?"

I gave him no answer.

Fortunately, Samantha, fearing he might feel sorry for me, quickly twisted my words. Her eyes reddened as she said plaintively, "Audrey, even if you resent us, you mustn't gamble with your life. Saying such unlucky things too often… they might come true."

Her words painted John's face with fury. His voice dripped with disgust.

"Let them come true! If you're so eager to be sick, then die of it—better than lingering around every day, making others sick just by existing! We're leaving."

With that, he dragged Samantha away.

The final look he cast me, heavy with revulsion, was like a boulder crushing my heart until it bled. The pain flooded my lungs until I couldn't breathe.

I clutched at my chest, forcing myself to endure until the thunderous pounding of my heartbeat finally eased. Only then did I slump back, hollow and defeated.

The next three days, I remained alone in the hospital.

John never came. Not once. Not even a call.

To me, it was almost a relief. All I longed for was to leave as soon as possible, fly to Austrane, and begin a new life.

Three days later, I was discharged.

I went straight back to the villa, planning to pack my things, collect my passport, and prepare for departure.

I hadn't expected John to be hosting Samantha's birthday party that very day.

So when I appeared, every face turned toward me in surprise.

My gaze froze on the towering, ten-layer cake glittering in the center of the living room. I stared blankly until John's voice snapped me back.

I turned my head. He was holding Samantha in his arms at the center of the dance floor, his brows drawn tight in displeasure as he fixed his eyes on me.

"Why are you back today?" he demanded.

Dozens of hostile stares rained down on me like arrows.

Samantha's eyes shimmered with tears, her expression one of fragile grievance. She had reason to look aggrieved—after all, today was her birthday.

Of course, it was also mine.

We had been switched at birth. From the day she returned to the Gray family, she declared this day her "day of calamity." She had never celebrated it.

No doubt John had worked hard to persuade her into this party, to sweeten her bitterness.

But my presence ruined everything.

I muttered an apology and turned to leave.

John's voice cut through the air, sharp with command. "Get upstairs. Don't come down without my permission."

I wanted to walk out altogether, but the memory of his violent outburst the other day made me hesitate. In the end, I obeyed, climbing the stairs in silence.

It didn't matter—just four more days.

But Samantha suddenly spoke up.

"Johnny, don't be so harsh. Let Audrey celebrate with me before she goes upstairs. Don't forget, it's her birthday too."

At her words, John's face darkened, his tone dripping with scorn.

"She? A sinner's daughter? What right does she have to celebrate her birthday?"

The crowd chimed in at once, "John is right! If her mother hadn't swapped her at birth, Samantha wouldn't have suffered all those years. Isn't she embarrassed to celebrate?"

My complexion drained white. My filthy past had been torn open before everyone's eyes, and suddenly, I was dragged back to my tenth birthday —the day I lost everything.

I faced John's loathing gaze and endured the crowd's cruel chorus.

"Sinner's daughter."

"Rotten blood breeds rotten children."

Each word hammered me down until I could barely stand.

I remembered how I used to believe the same.

So when Samantha returned and the Gray family showered me with scorn and beatings, I accepted it all, thinking it was the penance I deserved.

But even then, they still cast me out—on my tenth birthday, no less. They threw me into the pouring rain.

Birthdays had always been nightmares for Samantha. For me, they were no different.

Except—back then, John had been the one to find me in the storm. He carried me home, bought me a cake, and under my trembling gaze, lit the candles and whispered, "You don't owe them anymore. From now on, every birthday, I'll be with you. All right?"

In that moment, his eyes shone so bright, it seemed even the moonlight couldn't compete.

And yet now, he was the one standing before everyone, calling me a sinner's daughter.

My vision blurred with tears. Ashamed, I fled upstairs and slammed the door of my room behind me.