Chapter 7 "Sir, even killing them won't change a thing," Mervin said bluntly. "Without your indulgence, they wouldn't have dared touch Mrs. Kennedy." He'd witnessed my humiliation and tried to intervene, but they'd used Craig's name. Craig's leniency made them fearless. "You resented her for toying with your heart," Mervin continued. "But you never investigated what happened. She didn't know the wine was drugged. After you passed out, she fought back but was knocked unconscious and injected with an aphrodisiac. You never gave her a chance to explain. If your grandfather knew how you let emotions blind you, he'd be heartbroken. Think about it." Mervin left, closing the door. Alone, Craig's face was ghostly pale. He'd refused to listen, convinced I'd betrayed him. His stubbornness caused his loss. His trembling hands opened his laptop. My social media account, still pinned, stared back. The degrading posts he'd forced me to share were gone, but the hateful comments had grown. Screenshots of my posts and photos of me kneeling in the garden circulated endlessly, each one a knife. Craig replied to each, desperate to defend me. But the internet threw his actions back with my posts and photos. He couldn't bear imagining the scorn I'd endured. It was all because of him. The pain choked him.