Everything she was suffering now was their fault, and they wanted to destroy her even further? Not a chance.
She glared at her parents, her voice a low, furious snarl. “Back then, you were afraid Lionel was a nobody who couldn’t help the family, so you forbade the marriage and pushed me toward Quennel. Now, for the good of the family, you want me to marry an abuser! It’s always about the family, the family, the family! Am I not part of this family?”
David’s eyes darted away. “You have to marry someone eventually. The Zades, the Lees, the Smiths—are any of them comparable to the Rosenbergs? We’re only thinking of you.”
“Thinking of me? Or thinking of how to trade my life to save your company?” she shot back. “David, you got my brother killed, and now you’re trying to get rid of me. Will you be happy then?”
Edith flinched and rushed to her daughter’s side. “Sandra, how can you say that about your father? He works so hard for this family.”
Sandra shoved her away. “Works hard at what? Every resource, every connection, I was the one who had to beg Lionel for! What have you done since the company started failing? I had to ask Lionel to arrange my brother’s funeral! When I was in the hospital, neither of you even visited!”
“And now that the resources I begged for aren’t enough to save the company, you suddenly remember you have a daughter you can sell off! David, are you even human? Are you fit to be a…”
SLAP!
Her words had pushed him too far. As if she had uttered some unforgivable curse, David swung his arm and struck her hard across the face.
“Lock her in her room!” he roared. “No food, no water! Keep her there until the Rosenbergs come for her the day after tomorrow!”
At his command, the hesitant maids moved forward, grabbing Sandra and dragging her upstairs.
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