Broken by His Fiancée

My mother, Eleanor Thorne, dropped out of school at a young age to work, single-handedly raising my uncle, Logan Thorne, all on her own. Because of that bond, right before she passed away from a severe illness, she tightly held Logan’s hand and entrusted me to his care, begging him to look after me. With bloodshot eyes, Uncle Logan swore right beside her hospital bed that he would never let a single soul lay a finger on me for the rest of his life. When I was seven years old, my biological father, Richard Jennings, was preparing to remarry, and he muttered a cruel comment under his breath, calling me a piece of useless baggage. The next second, Logan smashed a glass bottle right over his head. "Who the hell do you think you are, talking to my little girl like that?" he roared. "Keep running your mouth, and I will personally ruin you!" Before his head wounds could even fully heal, Richard literally checked himself out of the hospital and fled the city, never daring to show his face around us again. During my high school years, a boy cornered me on the way home to force a love letter into my hands, which completely terrified me. Logan flew into an absolute rage. That very afternoon, he brought a crew and broke the boy's leg. That act invited a violent retaliation. Logan was targeted in a brutal hit-and-run and left for dead on the asphalt. He spent three grueling days fighting for his life in the ICU before the doctors finally pulled him back from the brink. Yet, the exact moment he was discharged from the hospital, he tracked that student down again and beat him within an inch of his life. I was utterly horrified. Desperate to prevent my uncle from hurting anyone else on my account, I, Maisie Thorne, secretly applied to a university overseas without telling him, leaving the country for three long years. On the eve of Logan’s wedding, he personally flew out on a private jet to pick me up and bring me back home. That night, we sat down to have a quiet dinner together. But the night took a twisted turn when his fiancée mistook me for a hidden mistress. "So, you're the little obsession my husband can't seem to stop thinking about," Victoria Vane sneered, glaring at me. "I’ve heard all about the mysterious girl locked away in his private thoughts. Let's see how much sleeping around you can do once I strip that pretty little face right off your head, Maisie Thorne!" Chapter 1 Three years ago, when I left the country, I didn't even dare to say goodbye to him face-to-face. It wasn't that I didn't miss him. I was simply terrified that he would lose his mind and hurt someone else on my account again. The moment the private jet touched down and he saw me, my uncle, Logan Thorne, had eyes that turned instantly red with unshed tears. "You’ve lost weight, and you look completely pale. What’s so great about that miserable place overseas anyway? How many times did I tell you to come back home to finish your studies, yet you just refused to listen?" I sniffled lightly, forcing a bright smile onto my face. "Uncle Logan, look, I'm finally back, aren't I? You're literally getting married—did you honestly think I wouldn't show up for that?" The exact second I mentioned the wedding, a brilliant light washed over his face. "Right, right, right! Let’s go, get in the car. I’m taking you out to grab a bite to eat first." As the luxury car cut through traffic, Logan’s protective tone softened significantly. "Maisie, I finally found a woman to be your aunt. "Her name is Victoria Vane. She’s incredibly gentle and very understanding. "She actually reminds me a lot of your mother. Once we're officially married, I know she’s going to treat you wonderfully." I turned my head to look at him with absolute seriousness. "Then you have to promise me that you will love her with all your heart, Uncle Logan. Make sure you never mistreat her." Logan let out a soft chuckle, reaching over to gently stroke my hair with pure paternal warmth. Once dinner concluded, Logan drove me over to his luxury penthouse apartment downtown so I could settle in and unpack. The following morning, right as I was sitting down to eat breakfast, a loud, aggressive pounding echoed from the front door. Our housekeeper, Martha Higgins, hurried over to open it. Three women immediately barged straight into the foyer. The woman leading the pack swept a cold, calculating gaze over me from head to toe, her jaw tightening in pure rage. "So, you're the little obsession my husband can't seem to stop thinking about." My brain was still completely foggy from sleep, causing me to ask entirely instinctually, "Are you... Victoria Vane?" "Oh, look at that, you actually know my name," Victoria sneered, taking a menacing step forward while her two wealthy friends flanked her from behind. "What’s the matter? Did you catch wind of the fact that Logan Thorne is officially getting married, so you scrambled to catch the quickest flight back into the country?" Her friends instantly chimed in, their voices dripping with malice. "Oh, absolutely. If she didn't hurry back, her precious sugar daddy was going to be stolen right out from under her. "She’s been hiding out overseas for three whole years. Who knows how many hands she’s passed through by now? She probably only crawled back home to find a sucker to pin the baggage on." My brow furrowed tightly, realizing instantly that they had completely misconstrued the entire situation. "Miss Vane," I said, looking directly at Victoria as I forced a warm, respectful smile suited for a future family elder. "You've completely mixed things up. My relationship with Logan isn't what you think it is at all. He’s actually my—" "You're seriously still trying to lie your way out of this?" Victoria let out a harsh, freezing laugh, snatching a photograph from her designer purse and hurling it directly at my face. I lowered my head to look at the glossy paper that hit my lap. It was a picture of me taken on the day of my high school graduation. "He keeps your photograph locked inside his bedside nightstand 24/7," Victoria hissed, enunciating every single syllable with absolute venom. "Are you honestly going to sit there and tell me you aren't his mistress?" "Miss Vane," I pleaded, letting out a heavy sigh of exhaustion. "You are genuinely misunderstanding the situation. I can explain everything to you. He is literally just my un—" Once again, my words were cut violently short. Without a single second of hesitation, Victoria lunged forward, grabbed the half-eaten bowl of hot oatmeal sitting on the table, and threw it directly into my face. The scalding food splashed violently across my skin, leaving behind a sharp, blistering, fiery pain. Behind her, her little circle of friends let out a chorus of mocking giggles. "Look at her trying to play the innocent victim. For a mistress, she’s certainly got a lot of nerve to look so self-righteous." Chapter 2 "Exactly. She literally moved right into another woman's fiancé's home, yet she still claims she isn't a mistress. The sheer audacity is unreal," Chloe Sterling, one of Victoria’s friends, added, tossing her hair back. I opened my swollen eyes, genuinely feeling a surge of pure anger this time. "Are you going to let me finish a single sentence? I am Logan’s—" Slap! A violent backhand struck my face, sending my head snapping to the side. My cheek instantly flared up, swelling under the impact. The metallic taste of blood spread quickly across my mouth. Victoria wiped her hands with a wet wipe, offering a cold, satisfied smile. "It looks to me like you just lack basic discipline!" I licked the blood away from the corner of my mouth, a dark, humorless laugh escaping my throat. Growing up under Uncle Logan’s absolute shield, not a single soul in this world had ever dared to lay a hand on me. I whipped my arm up, returning the gesture with a fierce, ringing slap right across Victoria's face. She clutched her burning cheek, completely stunned by the retaliation. I glared directly into her eyes, enunciating every single syllable with cold precision. "Do the three of you simply lack the capacity to comprehend human speech?" My voice wasn't incredibly loud, but every word carried a dangerous, crackling heat. "I explicitly said I am not a mistress. I am not his mistress. Are you deaf, or are you just blind? Logan is my uncle. I am his biological niece!" Victoria’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Logan is your uncle?" "Yes," I replied, staring back at her with absolute freezing detachment. "He is my real, biological uncle. There is no counterfeit version here." She narrowed her eyes, her face instantly clouding over with deep suspicion. "Martha!" Victoria barked toward the entryway. Martha took two hesitant steps forward, her eyes darting nervously around the room, completely avoiding my gaze. "Let me ask you something," Victoria said, tilting her chin dismissively in my direction. "Who exactly is this girl?" Martha kept her head lowered, her voice barely a whisper. "Mr. Thorne explicitly instructed us to take excellent care of Miss Thorne. He said she is a highly honored guest." Victoria let out a sharp, mocking sneer. "Martha, did Mr. Thorne ever happen to specify exactly who this highly honored guest is to him?" Martha gave a slow shake of her head. "Mr. Thorne didn't say, ma'am. He simply ordered us to ensure she has everything she needs. He didn't offer any other details." "Did you hear that?" Victoria hissed, turning her glaring eyes back onto me with pure malice. "Everyone in this city knows Logan Thorne guards his niece like she's the crown jewel of his life. If you were actually her, why on earth wouldn't he explicitly brief his own staff? Why wouldn't he introduce you properly to Martha so there was zero confusion?" Chloe instantly chimed in to support her. "Oh, stop putting on an act. Your little facade is completely falling apart now, isn't it? "She genuinely thinks she can pull the wool over our eyes. We need to teach this girl a proper lesson!" My brow furrowed tightly into a deep frown. Last night, the exact moment Uncle Logan walked me through the front door, he received an urgent business call on his phone. He was in an absolute rush to leave the premises. He had tried to introduce my identity to Martha, but Martha was running a loud vacuum cleaner at that exact moment and completely missed his words. That single stroke of bad luck was the entire catalyst for this absolute disaster. I took a deep, steadying breath. "I told you, I am his niece. If you refuse to believe my words, you can easily pull out your phone and call him to verify it right now." "Call him?" Victoria laughed as if I had just delivered the most hilarious joke on the planet. "And then what? So you can cry a river to him over the phone and claim I'm bullying you? Wow, you certainly have a massive strategic plan mapped out, don't you?" Her peripheral vision caught sight of a premium bag of dog food resting in the corner of the room. She strode over, snatched it up, and shook the kibble directly in front of my face. "Since you enjoy playing make-believe so much," she smiled, a twisted look appearing in her eyes, "why don't you start by learning how to be a perfectly obedient dog?" The entire living room descended into a sudden, suffocating silence that lasted for two seconds. The third woman in the group, Harper Vance, began clapping her hands in pure, sadistic excitement alongside Chloe. "Victoria, that is an absolute genius idea! Let's show this little home-wrecker exactly who the true mistress of this house is going to be!" Martha’s voice began to tremble violently. "Miss Vane... this... this really isn't a good idea. Mr. Thorne explicitly ordered us to take excellent care of her. If Mr. Thorne finds out about this..." Victoria snapped her head around to glare at Martha, her eyes tracking like two sharp daggers. "And what if he finds out?" Her tone dropped into a freezing, ominous register. "Martha, you’ve worked in this penthouse for two whole years. You should know exactly who the future lady of this house is." Martha opened her mouth to speak, but she ultimately lost her nerve and remained silent. Harper intensely picked up the slack. "Exactly! Is Mr. Thorne honestly going to destroy his relationship with his own fiancée over some random, nameless woman who crawled out of nowhere?" Victoria turned back to face me, delivering her next command with absolute finality. "Hold her down for me." There wasn't a single shred of negotiation left in her voice. "If anything goes sideways, I will take full responsibility." "Are you completely certain you want to proceed with this?" I asked, locking my eyes onto Victoria. "You know exactly what kind of man Logan Thorne is. If you force a single bite of dog food down my throat today, he will ensure you pay it back tenfold tomorrow." Victoria’s confident expression locked up for a brief fraction of a second, but that sudden wave of hesitation instantly morphed into pure, unbridled rage. "You still have the nerve to threaten me? Martha, girls—get her!" The three of them began to close the distance, flanking me from all sides. Chapter 3 My hands clenched into tight fists. Time and time again, I had done my absolute best to swallow my pride and endure their insults solely out of respect for my uncle, Logan Thorne. I never anticipated that they would become this utterly lawless, but I was absolutely no walkover. I whipped my head to the side, dodging the hands lunging at me. In one swift motion, I slammed my fist squarely into the bridge of Chloe's nose, spinning on my heel to plant a vicious kick that sent Harper crashing to the floor. Martha hovered anxiously in the background, hesitating to join the fray. Victoria stumbled back two steps, her voice rising in a panicked screech. "Martha! Call the building security detail inside right now!" With trembling fingers, Martha frantically pulled out her two-way radio. Before she could even broadcast a transmission, a loud, violent crash echoed through the foyer. The front door was forcefully slammed open from the outside. Three uniformed building security guards stood framed in the entrance. "Miss Vane!" The lead guard, Captain Ethan Miller, quickly strode over to Victoria, lowering his head in a respectful nod. "Our surveillance monitoring team flagged some erratic commotion up here on this floor. We came to inspect the premises immediately. Are you harmed, ma'am?" Victoria’s voice shook with performative outrage. "Captain Miller, your timing is absolutely perfect. This woman broke into a private residence and maliciously assaulted my guests. Just look at what she did to my two close friends! Restrain her immediately and have her dragged off to the local precinct!" I fixed a deadly glare onto Victoria, a low warning vibrating in my throat. "If you go through with this, I give you my absolute guarantee that you will never set foot inside the Thorne family's inner circle." She let out a dismissive, mocking laugh. "Oh, and you genuinely think you're the one who calls the shots around here?" She turned back to Captain Miller, her voice turning sharp and commanding. "Take her down!" Two fists were simply no match for an entire security team. My arms were forcefully wrenched behind my back, pinning my wrists in a painful lock. A sudden, heavy kick struck the back of my knee from behind, forcing my entire body to collapse hard onto the floor. "Let go of me!" I snarled, twisting my body violently, but a sharp, blinding pain shot straight through my shoulders. A vicious, satisfied smile played across Victoria’s lips. "You certainly have a big mouth for someone pinned to the floor. Too bad people with big mouths generally don't end up with very pleasant endings." She stepped forward, reaching deep into the premium boutique bag to scoop up a massive handful of the hard dog food. She lunged down, using her free hand to forcefully pry my jaw open. "No!" I screamed, thrashing my head from side to side in sheer desperation, but the security guards clamped down on my skull, keeping my body entirely immobilized. The dry dog food was violently rammed straight into my mouth. A pungent, overwhelming stench of animal byproduct shot straight to my brain, causing my stomach to instantly heave in violent rejection. She patted my cheek with sickening triumph. "I don't give a damn who you think you are. I am going to make absolutely certain you remember one simple truth—Logan belongs entirely to me, and you don't get to touch what’s mine." Swallowing the bile rising in my throat, I kept the mouthful of dog food locked past my teeth, glaring death directly into Victoria’s eyes. Pfft. With one violent exhale, I spat the entire mouthful of dog food directly across her face. The wet kibble coated her skin, sliding down her cheeks in a disgusting mess. I let out a cold, mocking sneer. "You aren't even worthy of marrying my uncle." Victoria’s entire body went rigid. Her facial features twisted into a grotesque mask of pure, unadulterated fury, her eyes looking as if they were about to spray literal fire. "You absolute piece of trash! You're still trying to play games with me!" She ground her teeth together, raising her arm high as her hand cut through the air, poised to deliver a vicious blow across my face. Right then, the smartphone nestled inside her pocket began to blare. Victoria’s hand froze entirely mid-air. She instantly raised her index finger to her lips, flashing a sharp, universal command for absolute silence to every single person in the living room. "Logan, darling~" She answered the call, her voice instantly morphing into an incredibly sweet, delicate purr that was night and day compared to the monster from a second ago. "What’s going on? Do you miss me already?" Logan’s voice filtered faintly through the phone's speaker. Even through the heavy physical distance, I could vaguely map out a few muffled words: Tonight... surprise for you... get ready... My heart leaped violently inside my chest. It was Uncle Logan! I opened my mouth, desperate to scream his name into the receiver. But Chloe’s heavy hand instantly lunged down, clamping over my mouth in a suffocating grip that muffled every ounce of sound before it could leave my throat. "Perfect, I'll be waiting for you! I actually have a little surprise mapped out for you tonight too, darling. Smooches." The exact second Victoria ended the call, the delicate warmth completely drained from her face. She ground her teeth, her voice dripping with pure venom. "Logan wouldn't seriously be planning to introduce this piece of trash to me tonight, would he?" Harper immediately chimed in to soothe her. "Victoria, don't worry about a thing! Mr. Thorne obviously loves you above anyone else." "Exactly. If we just completely ruin this girl's pretty little face, let's see how much sleeping around she can do after that!" "Perfect," Victoria smiled, a terrifyingly cold laugh echoing through the room. She picked up a sleek paring knife resting on the breakfast bar, twirling the blade expertly between her fingers. She stepped closer, pressing the sharp metallic tip firmly against my cheek, dragging it down just enough to leave a shallow, stinging indentation. "Why don't I just carve a few choice words right into your skin? Let's see if he can even recognize your face after I'm done with you." My body began to shake with involuntary, biological terror. "Victoria Vane," I spat through my teeth, fighting the panic. "If you dare to lay a mark on me, you are completely dead." "What exactly should I carve?" She tilted her head, tapping the flat of the blade against her chin thoughtfully. "‘Mistress’? No, that's entirely too cliché. ‘Home-wrecker’? No, that's way too long. "Oh, wow. Yes. I'm going to carve exactly this." Chapter 4 The exact instant the sharp point of the blade was about to puncture my skin under her weight, I violently whipped my head to the side. "Ah!" With a burst of desperate strength, I clamped my teeth down hard onto Victoria's hand. She let out a piercing shriek, using her free hand to deliver a savage slap that sent me crashing hard against the floor. The security guards instantly lunged down, pinning my body firmly against the tiles once more. "You actually dare to bite me?" she hissed, clutching her hand as a dark stream of blood began to seep through her fingers. Victoria's expression turned completely ominous, the absolute fury in her eyes threatening to manifest into something lethal. She raised the paring knife back into the air, driving the sharp metallic tip straight down into my cheek. Slash after slash. I bit my lower lip raw, the agonizing pain making it entirely impossible to breathe. "Take a good look," she sneered, thrusting her smartphone screen directly in front of my eyes. The glass display reflected a woman whose face was entirely covered in smears of dark red blood, with the word SLUT crudely and unevenly carved into her skin. "With you looking exactly like this, let's see how much sleeping around you can do now!" I stared back at her, my vision completely bloodshot. "Victoria Vane... I will make sure you pay for this." "Make me pay?" She ground her teeth together, letting out a sharp chuckle as she slammed the flat back of the blade directly against my open wounds. The shocking burst of agony caused my entire body to shudder violently. "With what exactly? Who the hell do you honestly think you are?" "Break her limbs for me," she ordered, turning a cold gaze to the guards. "I want to see exactly how a complete cripple is supposed to make me pay for anything." I was pinned ruthlessly against the floor, my face pressed flat against the freezing ceramic tiles. A sharp, sickening crack echoed through the room, immediately followed by a wave of white-hot, blinding agony. My limbs were completely shattered. My teeth bit straight through my bottom lip as blood and tears mingled into a chaotic mess on the floor. I lay there completely paralyzed like a heap of broken flesh, lacking even a single shred of strength left to struggle. Victoria used the tip of her designer shoe to contemptuously kick my face. "Still want to run your mouth?" I parted my lips, a heavy stream of blood pooling out across my chin. Panting heavily to catch a pocket of air, I fought through the suffocating pain to whisper, "You... are completely finished." Victoria let out a cold sneer, crouching down to my level. Her eyes suddenly drifted over to my neckline. My necklace had slipped out from beneath the collar of my shirt. The heart-shaped locket carried my late mother Eleanor's ashes inside. It was a piece I never, ever removed from my body. On the day my mother passed away, Uncle Logan’s hands were shaking violently as he personally sealed the ashes inside it. Victoria reached down, violently ripping the chain from my neck with a sharp click. "Why are you still wearing a piece of junk this ancient? Which one of your little boyfriends threw this at you?" The color drained from my face, a desperate roar ripping from my throat. "Give it back to me!" Victoria laughed mockingly, tossing the broken locket onto the floor a few feet ahead of me. "If you want it so badly, go ahead and crawl for it!" That was my mother. I absolutely could not lose her. I pressed my chin firmly against the floor, using the raw strength of my core and stomach muscles to slowly drag my torso forward, inch by inch. With every single fraction of an inch I moved, the jagged edges of my broken bones stabbed violently into the surrounding muscle, causing a freezing sweat to instantly break out across my skin. Victoria watched the display, bursting into a fit of pure, ecstatic laughter. "Look at this, girls," she said, pointing a finger down at me as she turned to her friends, Chloe and Harper. "Doesn't she look exactly like a pathetic little maggot?" Her circle of friends immediately chimed in, roaring with hysterical laughter. I ignored their noise entirely. I kept dragging myself forward, bit by bit, until my face was finally close enough to reach the necklace. "Disgusting," Victoria grumbled, her brow furrowing in deep annoyance. She lifted her leg and slammed her stiletto heel squarely down onto the locket, repeatedly grinding her weight into the metal until it completely shattered beneath her shoe. "No!" a desperate scream tore from my chest, my heart aching so intensely that I couldn't breathe. Victoria clapped her hands together to dust them off. "Alright, drag her under the dining table and tape her mouth shut. Let's leave her there to give Logan a wonderful surprise when he gets back." Fearing they would throw the remnants away, I quickly used my teeth to scoop the broken locket securely inside my mouth before the security guards violently slapped heavy duct tape over my lips, stuffing my broken body into the dark cavity beneath the dining table. The overwhelming pain eventually caused my consciousness to fade into absolute blackness. The next time my eyes fluttered open, the deep, resonant voice of my uncle filtered into the room. "Victoria, my niece Maisie is the absolute most important person in my entire life. When you meet her tonight, you need to make sure you treat her wonderfully." I desperately wanted to call out to him, to tell him I was right here. But the thick tape sealed my lips completely shut. I didn't even dare to breathe too heavily, terrified that the mere expansion of my chest cavity would cause the broken bones to puncture my lungs. "Don't you worry about a thing, darling," her voice echoed, sounding incredibly soft and gentle. "You're my husband. I will look after your niece exactly as if she were my very own daughter." Logan let out a confused hum. "Why on earth is this kid still not answering her phone? By the way, what exactly is this surprise you mentioned you had waiting for me?" Victoria let out a sweet chuckle. "A random woman was out here running her mouth and defaming your niece. I couldn't bear to listen to a single word of it, so I decided to handle the discipline on your behalf." Martha stepped forward, roughly dragging my limp body out from beneath the table and violently ripping the heavy adhesive tape off my mouth. My hair was completely matted with sweat and blood, clinging to my face in a tangled mess. Logan cast a casual, passing glance in my direction, his mind entirely occupied as he failed to register my identity in the dim light. I parted my lips, and the crushed, ruined heart-shaped locket slid out from my mouth, hitting the floorboards with a dull metallic click. Logan’s eyes drifted down to the shattered locket on the floor. In a fraction of a second, his pupils violently constricted into sharp pinpricks. He snapped his head up, his entire body launching forward as he threw himself desperately toward me.