Once His Pawn, Now His Obsession

After using me for revenge, Liam immediately filed for divorce and kicked me out.

The snow was heavy that day. I was carrying his child, dragging my lame leg—the one I’d injured saving him—as I limped away.

He stood there with his new girlfriend in his arms, a cigarette between his fingers, lazily watching my humiliation.

Life after that was hard.

For money, I had to marry a man in his forties and become a stepmother to his eight-year-old son.

But the night before the wedding, Liam kidnapped me and dragged me back to his house.

His expression was terrifying, his voice icy as he demanded:

“You hid my child from me, killed it, and went to play stepmom to some old man’s brat.”

“Ava, how dare you?”

The day Liam kicked me out, the snow was falling thick and fast.

As I walked toward the door with my six-year-old sister Emma, the butler Thomas stopped me:

“Miss Ava, Mr. Liam said you can’t take anything that belongs to the family.”

“That down jacket and those snow boots you’re wearing—he bought them.”

I understood. I lowered my gaze and silently took off the coat and shoes.

Outside, the wind whipped snow into my face. I shivered uncontrollably.

Barefoot in the deep snow, I looked back at the second floor of the villa.

Liam stood there lazily, holding Chloe with one arm and a cigarette in the other, enjoying my misery.

Chloe’s eyes gleamed with triumph.

She tossed a gray wool scarf down from the balcony, laughing:

“This trash doesn’t suit Liam. Thomas, throw it in the garbage.”

That scarf was one I’d knitted for Liam with my own hands two months ago.

Back then, he’d wrapped it around his neck, kissed my hand, and said, “My wife has such clever hands.”

Everything changed in a blink.

My family went bankrupt, my father went to prison.

Liam didn’t bother pretending anymore.

The day he forced me to sign the divorce papers, he glared at me and spat venom:

“Ava, know why I never face you when we have sex?”

“Know why I always soak in the bath for an hour after?”

“Because you disgust me. The sight of your face makes me sick, let alone touching you.”

“If it weren’t for destroying your family, you think someone like you could ever catch my eye?”

Each word felt like a dull knife carving me up, the pain so intense I could barely breathe.

Tears streamed down my face. I finally accepted he’d never loved me.

So I didn’t tell him I was pregnant.

What was the point?

With all the blood and hatred between us, we were doomed from the start.

This child never should have existed.

Broke, I went to a cheap clinic for an abortion.

My luck was rotten—I hemorrhaged during the procedure and almost died on the table.

When I woke up, Emma was crying by my bedside.

I stroked her soft hair and whispered, “It’s okay, sweetie. I’m fine.”

But I was shaken. If I died, what would happen to Emma?

We only had each other now. I had to survive, to raise her.

Making money was hard.

All I knew was dancing, but after the car crash four years ago—the one where I saved Liam and wrecked my leg—my left foot was permanently slightly lame. Not obvious, but noticeable if you looked closely.

I could never dance on stage again.

To survive, I decided to sell dumplings at a street stall.

I’d been spoiled growing up, never lifted a finger, but I learned to make dumplings because Liam loved them.

Now that skill was mine and Emma’s lifeline.

The stall did well. Even though I stood in the freezing cold until late, my fingers raw with frostbite, I never complained.

Then one day, Liam and Chloe showed up at my stall.

Dressed in expensive clothes, arm in arm, they looked perfect together.

And I looked pathetic.

Chloe eyed me and sneered:

“Who’d have thought the great Miss Ava would end up like a beggar.”

I needed the business, so I kept calm. “If you’re not buying, leave. Don’t block my customers.”

Chloe instantly played victim. “Liam, she’s being mean to me!”

Liam coddled her. His gaze turned icy as he warned me:

“Watch your tone with Chloe. Or I can’t guarantee your stall will be here tomorrow.”

A blatant threat.

But Liam had all the power now. I couldn’t fight him.

I clenched my fists inside my sleeves, bit my lip, and stayed silent.

Chloe smirked in triumph.

Liam turned to her, voice soft. “You said you wanted dumplings. Still hungry?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

Business was business. I needed the money.

I took a deep breath and pointed to the QR code. “Pay first.”

After the PayPal notification chimed for 0-05, I dropped the dumplings into the boiling water.

I thought that night was just a fluke.

But the next day, Liam’s men trashed my stall.

Reason? Chloe had food poisoning and landed in the hospital.

She’d only eaten my dumplings the night before.

No doubt she’d set me up.

I didn’t get it—she’d already won Liam, crushed me completely. Why not let me be?

From then on, Liam’s thugs harassed me daily.

Even when I moved locations, they always found me.

My business was ruined. I couldn’t even cover next month’s rent.

Desperate, I called Liam, begging him to back off:

“Chloe’s food poisoning wasn’t my fault. Liam, please believe me, just this once.”

He didn’t budge. His tone was hard:

“I’ll let it go if you kneel and apologize to Chloe.”

“Kneel for twelve hours straight, and we’re done. Otherwise, your stall is finished.”

The man who once promised me the stars if I cried now humiliated me for another woman.

But no matter how low I’d fallen, I wouldn’t be his dog.

I wiped my tears and spat back:

“Liam, bullying a woman? You’re pathetic.”

“I was blind to ever love you.”

His breathing turned ragged, furious words hissing through his teeth:

“You think I wanted your love?”

“Ava, you were just a tool for revenge.”

The words stung, but my heart was too numb to feel more pain.

Gritting my teeth, I shot back:

“Well, you were just a vibrator to me.”

I hung up before he could respond.

Back home, Emma saw my red, swollen eyes. She touched my cheek, worried:

“Ava, did someone bully you again?”

“I wish I could grow up faster. Then I could protect you.”

Our mom died young after having Emma.

Dad was never around.

So Emma clung to me, always listened to me.

I ruffled her hair softly. “What if we leave this place?”

She nodded. “Wherever you go, I go.”

Then she hesitated. “What about Dad? Is he coming too?”

She was too young to understand he was in prison.

I thought for a moment. “Dad made a mistake. He’s being punished. He won’t be back for a long time.”

She tilted her head. “What did he do? Was it bad?”

Yes, very bad.

Over twenty years ago, to seize land from Liam’s family, he set fire to their factory.

Liam’s father happened to be sleeping inside that night and died in the blaze.

So Liam’s hatred for my dad, for my whole family, made sense.

He’d changed his name, bided his time for revenge—all for his father.

My dad committed a crime, and he got what he deserved.

I wouldn’t defend him, but I couldn’t help resenting Liam.

He had so many ways to get revenge. Why use my feelings?

Even after winning, Liam kept pushing me.

I was powerless against him. If I couldn’t fight, I’d run.

To save money, I booked a slow train to Cloud City.

But on the bus to the station, Emma fainted.

I rushed her to the hospital and got the worst news.

Emma had leukemia.

My world collapsed. I sat by her bed, crying uncontrollably.

Emma held my hand, her voice small:

“Ava, don’t be sad. I’m not hurting, really.”

“I hate hospitals. I don’t want shots or medicine. Can we go home?”

I knew she said it because we had no money.

My sister was too sensible for her age.

I hated myself for being useless, unable to afford her treatment.