-: ✧ :-゜・．

-: ✧ :-゜・．

[ Warning - this episode contains violence and scenes which may not fit your liking ]

The sky outside the mansion was an abyss of darkness, the thick clouds hiding even the faintest light from the moon. Inside the sprawling mansion of the Song family, a heavy tension clung to the air. The towering structure, known for its elegance and grandeur, felt suffocating, haunted by an unspoken terror that pulsed through its cold walls.

In the center of the mansion, in his personal study, sat Song Beom-seok, the head of the family and the ruthless owner of one of Korea’s largest jewelry empires. The air was thick with the pungent smell of smoke as he inhaled from his cigar, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular. His face, despite the rage bubbling beneath his skin, remained stony and unreadable. Only the tightness in his jaw and the occasional twitch of his brow betrayed the storm brewing inside.

The chilling screams of a woman echoed through the mansion, her cries laced with excruciating pain. The sound reverberated off the walls, cutting through the silence like a blade. But Beom-seok didn’t flinch. He didn’t care. The cries could’ve been from a stranger, a ghost, or even his wife—it made no difference to him. His heart had long been hardened, his emotions locked away in a fortress that no one could penetrate.

The screams continued, growing weaker with each passing moment. Then, as if the life had been sucked out of the room, they ceased, leaving only an eerie silence in their wake.

A soft knock on the study’s doorframe broke through the quiet, but Beom-seok did not lift his head. He took another drag of his cigar, releasing the smoke into the room as he muttered in his cold, detached voice, "Enter."

A maid stepped into the room, her face pale and her hands trembling as she clutched the hem of her apron. She dared not meet his gaze, her eyes glued to the floor. Her body shook, the weight of the moment pressing down on her small frame.

Beom-seok, still not looking at her, exhaled sharply. "What is it?" His tone was as cold as ice, devoid of any warmth or concern.

The maid swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper as she stammered, "S-sir… it’s a girl."

The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and for the first time, Beom-seok’s hand paused mid-air, the cigar hovering just inches from his lips. A girl.

His blood boiled, the simmering anger within him now erupting like molten lava. He slammed the cigar down into the ashtray, crushing it violently as he rose from his chair, the wood creaking beneath the force of his sudden movement. "Where is she?" he demanded, his voice low but laced with a fury that made the maid shiver.

The maid, too frightened to respond, merely nodded toward the door, her legs moving to guide him without a second thought. Inside, her heart was racing, fear gnawing at her insides. She knew what was coming next. Everyone in this mansion knew.

Beom-seok stormed through the mansion’s dimly lit halls, his long strides full of menace. The faint cries of a newborn could now be heard in the distance, mingling with the distant hum of the wind outside. His mind raced, filled with nothing but disgust and rage. A girl? A daughter? He had no use for a daughter, no place for weakness in his legacy.

---

In the bedroom, Song Hana lay on the bed, drenched in sweat, her hair plastered to her pale face. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, exhaustion pulling her down like a heavy weight. Next to her, wrapped in a soft blanket, lay the baby—a fragile, innocent life unaware of the storm brewing around her.

Hana's eyes were empty as she stared at the child beside her, void of any warmth or motherly affection. Her face twisted in pain, not from the labor, but from the deep, unshakable bitterness that gripped her heart. She hated the child. She hated her daughter. This child had sealed her fate, solidifying her husband’s contempt for her.

The door burst open with a loud crash, making Hana flinch violently. Her fearful eyes snapped toward the entrance, and there stood Beom-seok, his face dark and his eyes filled with venom. His rage was palpable, filling the room with a suffocating presence.

Hana instinctively curled into herself, her body trembling. "B-Beom-seok…" she whispered, her voice trembling, but she barely had time to speak before his hand came down on her face, the slap echoing through the room. Her head snapped to the side, her cheek stinging with the force of his strike.

"You worthless woman!" Beom-seok spat, his voice dripping with malice. "A daughter? You gave me a daughter? What use do I have for this… this pathetic excuse for a child?"

Hana gasped, clutching her face in pain, but the blows didn’t stop. He struck her again, his hand landing harshly on her already bruised skin. "You were supposed to give me a son. A heir! Not this—this useless girl!" he roared, his hand shaking with the force of his anger.

The baby’s soft cries filled the room, but Beom-seok didn’t spare the child even a glance. His hatred was entirely focused on Hana, as if everything that had gone wrong in his life was her fault.

"Look at her!" Beom-seok demanded, grabbing Hana by the arm and forcing her to look at the child. "Look at what you’ve done! You’ve ruined everything! You think this thing will ever mean anything to me? She’s nothing!"

Hana's tear-filled eyes met the tiny face of her newborn daughter, and for a brief moment, something in her chest ached. But the hatred, the bitterness, was too strong. She pushed that feeling away, burying it deep inside as she shook her head.

"I’m sorry…" she whispered weakly, her voice barely audible. "If only… if only it had been a boy…"

Beom-seok released her with a disgusted snarl, turning his gaze toward the baby with nothing but contempt. "This child is nothing to me. She is worthless, just like you," he spat before storming out of the room, his footsteps echoing through the house like a death knell.

---

After he left, the room fell into a thick silence, broken only by the soft whimpers of the baby. The maid rushed in, her heart pounding as she hurried to Hana’s side, gently placing a hand on her arm. "Madam, are you alright?" she whispered, her voice full of concern.

Hana wiped her tears, but the bitterness in her heart remained. She glanced at the baby, her eyes hard. "This… this is all her fault," she muttered, her voice filled with resentment. "If only it had been a boy… Beom-seok wouldn’t hate me so much. This… girl has ruined everything."

The maid looked down at the innocent child, her heart breaking for the baby who had no idea of the storm she had been born into. "What will you name her, Madam?"

Hana stared at the baby for a long moment before finally whispering, "Aera." The name fell from her lips like a curse.

And with that, Hana turned away from the child, her heart cold, leaving the baby to face the world without the love she so desperately needed.

---

The sun had barely risen the next morning, casting a pale light through the curtains of the grand yet cold mansion. Inside the large, dimly lit bedroom, the atmosphere was heavy, thick with tension and despair.

Aera’s cries filled the room, sharp and piercing, like the sound of a helpless creature in pain. The newborn had been wailing for hours, her tiny lungs gasping for air between sobs. But despite the child’s desperate pleas, Song Hana lay motionless on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her eyes were dull, devoid of emotion, as if life itself had drained out of her.

Aera’s cries grew louder, more frantic, but Hana didn’t move, didn’t even flinch. The baby’s sobs were like background noise, an irritation she could ignore. Her body was there, but her mind was far away, lost in the storm of her own bitterness and pain. The child was a reminder—a constant, screaming reminder—of everything that had been taken from her.

The door slammed open, shaking the walls of the room. Beom-seok entered, his face twisted in annoyance. His eyes flicked to Hana, still lying motionless on the bed, and then to the crying baby.

"Shut her up!" he barked, his voice sharp and filled with irritation. He didn’t even look at the child, didn’t care that his own daughter was crying. His only concern was the noise, the inconvenience.

Hana barely moved, her body stiff as if frozen in place. Beom-seok's cruel gaze landed on her, his lips curling in disgust. "Are you deaf? I said, shut her up!" he snarled before turning and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him with enough force to make the windows tremble.

For a long moment, Hana remained still, her heart pounding in her chest, the sound almost drowning out the baby’s cries. Slowly, with great effort, she sat up, her body aching from the beating Beom-seok had given her the night before. Her hands trembled as she reached for Aera, lifting the tiny, wriggling body into her arms.

Aera’s cries softened for a moment, but Hana’s face remained impassive, her eyes cold. She brought the baby to her chest, letting Aera latch onto her breast for milk, but there was no love in the gesture—only obligation. She didn’t coo at her or hold her close with affection. She simply stared out of the window, her face set in stone as the baby fed.

"You’re nothing but a burden," Hana muttered, her voice barely a whisper. Her words dripped with resentment. "You’ve ruined everything… everything I could’ve had."

The memories of the night before played in her mind, swirling like dark clouds. She could still hear the doctor’s cruel words ringing in her ears.

"You can’t have more children. The complications were too severe. I’m afraid you’re barren now."

Those words had shattered her, but it was nothing compared to what had happened next. When Beom-seok had found out, he had exploded in a rage, his fury consuming him like wildfire. He had struck her, over and over again, his fists landing on her fragile body as if she were nothing more than an object to punish.

"Worthless!" Beom-seok had screamed, his voice hoarse with anger. "You can’t even do the one thing you’re supposed to do! A son, Hana! You were supposed to give me a son!"

The blows had kept coming until Hana had collapsed to the floor, her vision blurry, her body weak. The pain had been unbearable, but the emotional torment had been worse. She had failed him. She had failed herself. And now, she was trapped—trapped in a marriage with a man who despised her, trapped with a child she never wanted.

Hana’s hands tightened around Aera, her grip almost too hard as she glared down at the baby’s innocent face. Aera’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, her tiny mouth still suckling, unaware of the hatred pouring from her mother.

"Because of you… I’ll never have his affection," Hana whispered, her voice breaking. "If you had been a boy, things might have been different. Maybe he wouldn’t hate me so much. Maybe… maybe he wouldn’t hurt me."

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. She wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t cry. Not anymore. Crying didn’t change anything. It didn’t stop Beom-seok from beating her. It didn’t make him love her. And it certainly didn’t make her feel anything for the child in her arms.

"Why couldn’t you be a boy?" she muttered bitterly, her gaze locked on Aera’s tiny face. "Why couldn’t you be the son he wanted?"

Aera whimpered softly, her cries dying down as she finished feeding, her small body curling up against her mother’s chest. But Hana felt no warmth from the child’s closeness. Only cold. Only bitterness.

She remembered the nights she had dreamed of having a family. A son. A child that Beom-seok would be proud of. A child that would finally earn her a place in his heart. But all those dreams had turned to ashes. Now, all she had was a daughter she didn’t want, a husband who despised her, and a future filled with nothing but suffering.

Hana gently placed Aera back in the cradle, her movements slow and mechanical. She stared at the baby for a long moment, her face unreadable.

"You’ll never be enough for him," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "And because of you… neither will I."

With that, Hana turned away from the cradle, retreating back to the bed, her heart heavy with the weight of her own resentment. She lay back down, curling into herself, her eyes blank as she stared at the ceiling once again.

The room fell into silence once more, save for the faint whimpers of the baby. But Hana didn’t care. She didn’t care about the cries. She didn’t care about the child.

All she cared about was the pain that would never leave her.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

𝚃𝚘 𝙱𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎...