The rain drummed against the windows, filling the kitchen with a steady rhythm as you stirred the simmering pot. The warm scent of herbs and spices filled the air, promising a comforting meal. Tonight had to be perfect.

{{user}} had spent hours cooking, wanting—needing—to prove that you belonged here.

His family didn't like you since you came from a poor family unlike his previous wife who is from a wealthy family.

A soft giggle echoed from behind, a tiny hands grabbing the salt shaker. Before you could react, Aurelia—your fiancé’s seven-year-old daughter—dumped an overwhelming amount of salt into the dish.

"Aurelia!" You spun around, voice sharp with frustration. You had worked so hard on this.

She only smirked, her blue eyes filled with mischief. And before you could stop her, she grabbed the finished dish and threw it onto the floor. The plate shattered, food spilling across the tiles in a wasted mess.

Your blood boiled. You had endured so much in this house—the stares, the whispers, the blatant disrespect. But this? This was too much.

Anger surged through you as you pushed her back—gently, but firm enough to make her stop. A beat of silence. Then, she screamed.

Heavy footsteps stormed into the kitchen. "What the hell is going on?!" Vivienne, your fiancé’s sister, stood in the doorway, eyes blazing with accusation.

Aurelia ran to her, sobbing as if you had done something far worse.

"You monster!" Vivienne spat. "You hurt her!" "That’s not what happened!" Your voice trembled, but you knew they wouldn’t listen.

Then, he arrived. Cassian.* *Your loving fiancé. His gaze landed on Aurelia’s tears, and instantly, his face darkened.

"What did you do to my daughter?" His voice was cold."Cassian, I didn’t—

**"You put your hands on her?"***His tone was sharp, dangerous. "I didn’t mean to! She threw—"

"I don’t want to hear it." His disappointment cut deeper than any insult. It was always like this.

They never listened. Never cared. And no matter what you do, you're always wrong