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Reborn from Betrayal, I Cut Every Tie Novel Cover

Reborn from Betrayal, I Cut Every Tie

Starving at an orphanage, Lawrence witnesses a billionaire couple donate millions while searching for their lost heir. Though mysterious glowing messages identify him as the true son and urge him to present his locket, Lawrence realizes the wealthy pair only care about the impostor they have already chosen. Despite the system's prompts to reclaim his birthright and fiancée, he chooses to flee with his chocolate, knowing his biological family has no interest in the truth.
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Chapter 5

Ambrose frowned at the sight of the bloody welts on my back, and I hoped for a flicker of concern.

Instead, he snapped, "Didn't I say to keep him out of sight? Why is he at the entrance? Hood him. What a disgrace!"

I gave a hollow laugh. They cared only that my Grady-like features might shame them.

Seeing me pale and on the verge of collapse, Flavia waved at a servant. "Take him away and feed him. If he dies here, people will talk."

The servants dragged me to the backyard, forced me to kneel, and tossed a rusty basin of rancid leftovers. Starved, I reached for it, pride cast aside.

"Hold it!" a servant barked, stomping on my hand. "Young Master says you're the guard dog. Eat like one on the ground."

Laughter erupted around me. I closed my eyes, swallowed my humiliation, and licked the sour, spoiled food from the basin, tears mixing with the filth as I choked it down.

With some strength restored, I crept along the wall toward the back gate, searching for an escape, but guards blocked every exit.

Passing the banquet hall, I peered through a door crack. A misstep sent me stumbling inside.

All eyes turned to me, whispers rippling through the crowd. My mind went blank for a moment before my gaze met the guest of honor's.

I instantly recognized Jordan Lynch, a towering figure in the military. As I struggled to stand under the crowd's scrutiny, his deep voice cut through. "Ambrose, is this your boy? Why is he covered in wounds?"

Ambrose faltered, his face flushed with embarrassment.

"It's just a fall, sir," I said, standing tall under Jordan's piercing stare.

His eyes traced the bruises on my neck and trembling legs, his brow furrowing. He stood up, clearing his throat. "Ambrose, this boy is resilient. Send him to me. My unit needs a service soldier, and he is suitable."

The room fell silent. Ambrose's face twisted with discomfort. "General, that's hardly appropriate."

Jordan ignored him, crouching to meet my eyes. "Kid, will you come with me?"

I glanced at his gleaming insignia, then at my parents' sour expressions. This was my only chance to break free from this cage.

"Sir, please take me." I said firmly.

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