Broken Beyond Repair: Five Years Too Late to Beg

It had been five years since my fianc and my billionaire brother dumped me in the slums.

Now, they had finally found me. And the first thing they asked was if I knew what I did wrong.

I nodded numbly. I know. I was wrong.

Five years ago, they were convinced I had framed Melanie, their precious darling. Together, they ruined me and sent me away.

They forgot that I was Ethans fiance, and Julian's biological sister.

But now, I was terrified. I had surrendered. I chose to obey.

Yet, Julian suddenly slammed his glass onto the floor. "You were never like this before!"

Even Ethan, the fianc who used to look at me with nothing but disgust, had red eyes. "Please, Sera. Go back to being the girl who cried and screamed. I beg you."

***

**1**

It had been five years since they dumped me in the slums. Today, they finally found me.

I was crouching by a rusty public faucet in a filthy alley, scrubbing dirt out of an old, faded bedsheet.

A few pairs of polished leather shoes stepped right into the muddy puddle in front of me, stopping right at my feet.

I looked up and recognized the face immediately.

It was Julian Vance. My brother.

Five years hadn't left many marks on his face. He only looked more powerful, his sharp brows carrying an even heavier air of authority.

"Do you admit you were wrong now?"

I lowered my head, staring at my red, swollen fingers. "Yes," I whispered. "I was wrong."

Hearing my answer, his tense brow relaxed. The corner of his mouth even twitched upward into a tiny, self-satisfied smirk.

"Come home with me," he said.

I nodded and stood up to pack my few belongings.

But as I turned around, another figure stepped out from the shadows of the alley.

It was Ethan Caldwell.

He had come too.

I hadn't seen him in five years. He seemed taller now, his jawline harder and colder.

His eyes locked onto my face, his expression a complicated mess of emotions.

"Sera, since you admit your mistake, youre still my fiance. Our engagement is still on."

I watched his lips move, the words floating into my ears.

*Fiance.*

*Engagement.*

They felt like words from a past life.

I nodded. "Okay."

Aside from that one word, I had nothing else to say.

During my five years in the slums, I had lost track of day and night.

By day, I wandered through noisy, filthy streets, taking any under-the-table job that would buy me a single meal.

At night, I curled up in a drafty shack, listening to rats scratching in the corners and drunkards screaming in the distance, staring at the ceiling until dawn.

All the life had been sucked out of me. Every sharp edge had been ground down to dust.

Julians Rolls-Royce was parked at the entrance of the alley.

It was pitch black, polished so bright it hurt my eyes.

The car started.

Soon, the low, crumbling shacks and the eternal stench of rotting garbage were left far behind.

The view outside the window became cleaner, greener, and grander.

Finally, the car pulled up in front of the luxury estate I had left five years ago.

The iron gates opened automatically. The lawn was manicured so perfectly it looked like a green carpet.

Everything looked exactly the same as in my memory, yet everything felt completely different.

Walking into the living room, the massive crystal chandelier cast a blinding light.

The air smelled faintly of fresh lilies.

Just as we stepped inside, a maid rushed over to greet us.

"Mr. Vance, dinner is ready. Should I serve it now?"

Julian gave a low grunt of approval.

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he turned his head to look at my way. "Sera, I had them make all your favorite dishes tonight."

He spoke so naturally, as if his five-year absence was just him stepping out for a short walk.

One by one, the dishes were brought out. They were plated so beautifully they looked like works of art.

Lobster, wagyu steak, truffles, caviar...

These were things I had only seen on crumpled flyers near trash cans over the last five years, things that belonged to a completely different world.

I sat down in silence.

Ethan sat next to me. He picked up a silk napkin and naturally draped it over my lap.

I was instantly terrified. "Thank you," I gasped, my voice trembling. "Thank you so much."

I frantically reached out to take the fork he was handing me.

The moment our fingers brushed, my memory short-circuited.

When was the last time someone draped a napkin for me or handed me a fork?

Was it five years ago? Or even longer?

My mind went completely blank.

*Clatter.*

The fork slipped from my fingers, rolled across the table, and fell to the floor, stopping right by Julians leather shoe.

The air in the room froze.

I went stiff.

Then, purely out of survival instinct, I threw myself to the floor to grab it.

My movement was so sudden and frantic that my knee slammed hard against the heavy mahogany table leg.

It made a dull, painful thud.

But I didn't feel the pain. I only felt pure, suffocating panic.

I was terrified they would throw me back into the slums for being clumsy.

I grabbed the fork, clutching it tightly in my fist.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, scrambling back to my feet. My voice was so low it was barely audible. "I didn't mean to."

Julian and Ethan were both staring at me.

Their eyes fell on my white-knuckled grip on the fork, staying there for several agonizing seconds.

Ethan spoke first, his voice empty of emotion. "Its fine."

The maid silently stepped forward and handed me a clean fork.

During dinner, Ethan occasionally placed cut pieces of steak onto my plate, his movements as natural as they used to be years ago.

I whispered "thank you" every single time, forcing myself to swallow every bite.

***

**2**

Julian and I were originally orphans.

Later, we were adopted by different families.

He was taken in by the ultra-wealthy Vance family.

But the couple who fostered me only wanted a free, obedient maid.

I studied like my life depended on it, got into an Ivy League university, and managed to get a job at Julian's corporation after graduation.

I was so naive back then. I actually believed that hard work could change my destiny.

At the company, I found my long-lost brother.

The day the DNA test results came back, Julian held me tight and cried, saying he had finally found his little sister.

I cried too, thinking I finally had a family.

Later, I met Ethan, and we got engaged.

For a moment, I thought the misery of my life was finally over.

Until Melanie Sterling showed up.

She was my brother's darling, and Ethan's irreplaceable first love.

I found out she was playing both of them at the same time, and I tried to expose her.

Instead, she framed me. She made me take the fall for corporate espionage, leaving me with a felony record and a suspended sentence.

A black sedan drove me to the slums and dumped me there.

The driver left me with one final message: "Mr. Vance said he doesn't have a ruthless sister like you. Don't ever come back."

In the beginning, I tried to start over.

But with a criminal record, no decent company would even give me an interview.

I had to go to the most remote, shady factories to do the most grueling manual labor.

One day, a machine on the assembly line malfunctioned. The new girl next to me froze in terror.

I rushed over to hit the emergency shutoff switch.

After a blinding flash of pain, I lost two fingers on my left hand.

The factory owner claimed I was just temporary under-the-table help and had no insurance.

Then, they fired me.

Because being disabled made me less efficient.

After that, I could only do odd jobs.

Washing dishes, sweeping streets. I took whatever I could get.

I barely stayed alive.

"Sera?"

Ethans voice dragged me back to reality.

I raised my head and realized both he and Julian were staring at me.

I had unconsciously curled my left hand into a tight fist.

"Whats wrong with your hand?" Julian asked, his eyes narrowing sharply.

I quickly hid my hand under the table, shaking my head. "Nothing."

But Ethan suddenly reached over and gently grabbed my wrist.

His hand was incredibly warm. Mine was ice-cold.

"Let me see," he said, his voice dropping low.

I pulled back, but I couldn't break his grip.

Julian had already stood up and walked over to my side of the table.

Ethan gently pulled my hand up into the bright light of the chandelier.

That hand was skeletal, covered in thick, rough calluses.

And on my left hand, the index and middle fingers were completely missing, leaving behind ugly, distorted scars.

Silence fell over the room like a heavy shroud.

Ethans hand trembled violently.

Julians breathing suddenly became ragged and heavy.

I slowly pulled my hand out of Ethan's grip and hid it under the table again.

"A factory machine," I explained calmly. "It happened a long time ago."

No one spoke.

After what felt like an eternity, Julian asked in a hoarse voice, "Why didn't you tell us?"

I looked at Julian and let out a tiny, soft laugh.

"Its fine," I said. "It's not a big deal. It doesn't stop me from working."

I meant it.

Missing two fingers only made me wash dishes a bit slower, but I could still wash them.

Sweeping took a bit more effort, but I could still sweep.

In the slums, as long as you were alive, nothing else was considered a big deal.

Both of them remained silent for a long time.

Eventually, they said nothing more and went back to their seats.

When I returned to my room, the maid had already drawn a hot bath for me.

The tub was massive, steam rising from the warm water, with fresh rose petals floating on top.

The moment I stepped in, the warm water wrapped around me.

I couldn't help but let out a long, shaky sigh.

It felt so good.

This warm, safe feeling.

Compared to shivering in freezing public restrooms to wipe myself down with cold water for the last five years, this was absolute heaven.

Dignity? Pride? Self-respect?

In the face of survival, those things were as light as dust.

I understood now.

As long as I could have clean water, a soft bed, and a life where I didn't have to worry about starving tomorrow...

Forget admitting I was wrong. Even if they made me get on my knees and beg, I would do it gladly.

The proud, stubborn Seraphina Vance from five years ago was long dead.

The shell that remained only wanted to survive.

After my bath, I walked over to the window and pulled the curtain back just a fraction.

In the garden below, the lights cast a soft, warm glow.

Ethans car was still parked there.

He was leaning against the door, holding a lit cigarette, the red ember glowing in the dark.

I used to hate the smell of smoke. It always made me cough.

Back then, whenever he smoked, I would pout, snatch the cigarette from his mouth, and crush it.

He would always laugh, pinch my cheek, and say, "You're so bossy."

Ethan was staring up at my window.

The moment he saw me pull the curtain, he froze, looking a bit panicked as he quickly threw the cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his shoe.

Then, my phone buzzed.

I picked it up.

"I'm sorry, Sera," his voice came through the receiver, sounding incredibly lost and anxious. "I won't smoke near you again."

I answered sincerely, "It's fine. You can smoke whenever you want."

There was a long silence on the other end.

"Didn't you hate it when I smoked?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned white.

My brain scrambled to process this.

Why was he asking that?

Was this a test?

Was he unhappy with my reaction?

"Before..." I paused, making my voice even softer, gentler, dripping with a carefully crafted desire to please.

"Before, I was just immature."

***

**3**

There was only dead silence on the line.

I licked my dry lips and continued, "I won't do that anymore. You can smoke if you want to. It really doesn't bother me."

As I spoke, I could feel my heart racing.

Not because of any lingering affection, but out of sheer terror.

I was terrified of saying the wrong word, of failing to give them the reaction they wanted.

Because if I failed, they would think I still hadn't learned my lesson. They would think I was still the same stubborn girl.

And then, that black sedan would show up again.

They would throw me right back into that alley smelling of mold and rotting garbage.

No.

I could never go back there.

"I really know I was wrong," I added, pleadingly. "Ethan, I promise. Ill be good."

I heard his breathing turn heavy and ragged through the phone.

"Sera..." He called my name, but the rest of his words seemed to choke in his throat.

I waited for a few seconds, but he didn't say anything else.

"I'm tired," I whispered. "Can I go to sleep?"

"...Go to sleep."

I pulled the curtains closed and lay down on the bed.

The mattress was so soft I sank right into it, and the duvet felt light as a cloud.

I kept my eyes open, staring up at the gorgeous crystal chandelier on the ceiling.

Everything here was too perfect. It didn't feel real.

When I woke up the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky.

I could hear faint voices coming from downstairs.

As I walked down the staircase, I looked through the banister and saw the scene in the living room.

Julian was sitting on the main sofa, and opposite him sat a woman.

She had soft curls, wore an elegant dress, and had a delicate, beautiful profile.

Melanie Sterling.

My breath hitched in my throat.

Ethan was there too.

He was sitting on a single armchair to the side, his expression cold and distant.

Melanie was the first to notice me.

"Sera?" She set her cup down, a sweet smile spreading across her face. "Julian told me you were back. Welcome home."

She walked over to me. "It's been so many years. You've gotten so thin, Sera."

I looked into her eyes.

Those beautiful eyes of hers were filled with pity, the exact look someone would give a dirty, stray dog.

"I'm fine," I said.

"Everything will be better now," she said gently. "You're home. Julian and Ethan will take good care of you."

Ethan set his coffee cup down and looked at me.

His gaze was intense and complicated.

"Since Sera is back," he started, his voice quiet but commanding enough to silence the room.

"I want us to get married as soon as possible."

Julian frowned slightly. "So soon?"

"Yes." Ethans eyes softened as they locked onto my face. "Sera has suffered too much out there. I want to make it up to her as soon as possible."

Julian fell silent for a moment.

He looked at me, then at Melanie, and finally let out a sigh.

"Fine. Though I'll miss having her around."

Melanies smile didn't waver. "This is wonderful news. Sera and Ethan have been engaged for so long anyway. It's about time they made it official."

"Julian, you should be happy for your sister."

Julian gave a noncommittal grunt and didn't reply.

I stood there like an outsider, listening to them plan my wedding.

"How about the fifteenth of next month?" Ethan asked.

"Is that too rushed?" Melanie asked softly. "A wedding takes a lot of planning."

"We can make it happen," Ethan replied firmly.

They kept talking about guest lists, venues, caterers...

Every word floated past my ears and vanished into thin air.

"Sera," Ethan suddenly called out to me.

"What do you think?"

I turned my head to look at him. "Nothing. Whatever you guys decide is fine."

Julian glanced at me then, his eyes landing on the dress I was wearing.

It was a style from five years ago.

He spoke up, his voice warm and gentle. "I'll take you to the mall to buy some new clothes later. We haven't bought you anything in years."

My chest tightened, and I quickly waved my hands. "No, no need. I have enough clothes."

Julians brow furrowed. "You used to love shopping. You'd drag me to the mall and make me walk around with you all day."

I paused, my voice dropping to a whisper. "I was wrong back then. I was immature. I wasted too much money."

The living room fell dead silent.

Ethan suddenly spoke up. "Just have them deliver the clothes here."

I looked up, not quite understanding.

"I'll have the personal shoppers from our usual boutiques bring the latest season's collection straight to the mansion for you to choose," Ethan explained, his tone completely natural.

Julian nodded. "Good idea. Pick as many as you want, and look at some jewelry too."

He reached his hand out, wanting to pat my head the way he used to.

Before my brain could even process what was happening, my body reacted on pure instinct.

I flinched violently, jerking backward to avoid his touch.

***

**4**

Julians hand froze mid-air, and the warmth on his face instantly vanished.

His voice turned cold. "Sera, are you still angry with me?"

My heart hammered against my ribs.

My survival instinct took over, and I immediately lowered my head, frantically apologizing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I was wrong."

Julians tone grew heavier. "Why are you flinching when I'm just talking to you?"

"I..."

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. "I didn't mean to. I just... I'm just..."

I was just used to it.

In the slums, any sudden movement toward me meant danger.

A shove from a drunkard, a slap from a factory boss, or those disgusting, predatory hands reaching out in the dark...

"I'm sorry, Julian," I said, forcing a smile onto my face, even though I knew it must look pathetic.

"I'm just not used to it yet. I won't do it again."

Julian stared at me, his eyes dark and unreadable.

Melanie smoothly broke the silence, her voice sweet and soothing. "Julian, don't scare Sera. She just got back. She needs time to adjust."

Ethan stood up and walked over to my side.

He didn't touch me, but he stood there like a shield, blocking me from Julians intense gaze.

"Take your time," he said softly, defusing the suffocating tension in the room.

Julian glanced at Ethan, then back at me. "I was too impatient. Sera, Im not mad at you."

"I know," I said quickly. "It's my fault."

Since coming back, I spent most of my time in my room, rarely going downstairs.

But today, a maid knocked on my door. "Miss Vance, Ms. Sterling is on the phone. She wants to invite you out for coffee this afternoon."

My chest tightened. My immediate instinct was to say no.

But I was terrified of making her angry.

I was terrified they would think I was being ungrateful.

The meeting was at a quiet, high-end French caf.

The moment I pushed the door open, I knew I shouldn't have come.

Sitting on the plush velvet sofa next to Melanie was another woman.

Chloe Harrington.

She was wearing the latest designer coat, her makeup flawless.

When she saw me walk in, she raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips.

Melanie smiled and waved at me. "Sera, you're here! Come, sit. Chloe happened to be nearby, so she joined us."

I sat down on the single armchair opposite them, shrinking my body to take up as little space as possible.

Everyone in our high-society circle knew Chloe had been obsessed with Ethan for years.

Five years ago, she had never missed an opportunity to make my life miserable.

"I heard you're marrying Ethan?" Chloe got straight to the point, her tone dripping with venom.

"Sera Vance, you really know how to play your cards. Couldn't cut it in the slums, so you crawled back to leech off of Ethan again?"

I kept my head down, saying nothing.

"Chloe," Melanie chided gently. "Don't say that."

"Am I wrong?" Chloe sneered.

"Everyone knows what she did back then. She stole company secrets and tried to frame you, Melanie. Sera, your skin is remarkably thick."

I clenched my hands, my nails digging deep into my palms.

"Oh, right!"

Chloe acted as if she had just remembered something. "I heard you're a cripple now? Missing two fingers? Well, I guess karma is real after all."

I snapped my head up.

Chloe was staring at me, her eyes filled with nothing but smug cruelty.

Melanie sat beside her, sipping her coffee elegantly, completely silent.

At that moment, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion washed over me.

Five years.

I had run for five years, feared for five years, lived like a dog for five years.

Since coming back to this house, every single day felt like walking on a tightrope. I had to calculate every word three times before speaking.

And for what?

Just to stay in this gilded cage and let these people humiliate me?

To let them look at me like I was trash?

I slowly uncurled my fists and looked up, staring directly at both of them.

"Ms. Harrington, Ms. Sterling," my voice was incredibly calmcalmer than I ever thought possible.

"I know neither of you wants me here."

Chloe blinked, clearly not expecting me to be so direct.

Melanie set her coffee cup down, her eyes locking onto mine.

I continued, "So, how about we make a deal?"

"A deal?" Chloe laughed as if she had just heard a hilarious joke.

"Yes." I nodded. "Ill sell them to you."

"What did you say?" Chloe frowned, thinking she had misheard.

"Julian Vance and Ethan Caldwell," I said their names slowly, like reading items off a grocery list.

"Ms. Harrington, you want Ethan. Ms. Sterling, you want to be the next Mrs. Vance, right? I will pull out. I will disappear completely and never show my face again."

I looked at their stunned expressions and even managed a small smile.

"Its a great bargain. Two.point-five million dollars each. Thats five million dollars total."

"Five million is pocket change to women like you. But to me, it's enough to start a new life somewhere else."

"What do you say?"

The moment the words left my mouth, the door to the private room was slammed open from the outside.

Julian and Ethan stood at the entrance.

Both of their faces were deathly pale, as if they had just been brutally struck.

Their eyes were wide, filled with absolute shock, betrayal, and deep, bleeding hurt.

The air in the room froze.

I looked at them. They looked at me.

No one said a word.

Finally, Ethan spoke, his voice incredibly hoarse and trembling.

"Sera... what did you just say?"