Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom novel Chapter 407

Everyone says I’m cold by nature, impossible to get close to.

But what they don’t know is that before I turned five, I was a cheerful, outgoing child who loved to talk and laugh.

Whether I was at school or at home, I was always the center of attention, the kid everyone liked.

Everything changed after my mother died. My father brought his mistress into the house—boldly, shamelessly—and from that moment on, I became a different person. Quiet. Withdrawn. The brightness in me faded, replaced by a dark cloud that never really left.

Back then, I was too young to hide my feelings, too honest to pretend. I acted, spoke, and reacted according to whatever I felt inside.

If I felt even the slightest bit upset, I’d lash out at my father’s mistress without holding back.

Once, I even pushed her down the stairs—she lost the baby she was carrying.

I was just a child, but I threatened her with a knife once, saying, “I’m a minor. Even if I killed you, I wouldn’t go to jail.”

She hated me for it. Hated me so much she probably dreamed of killing me herself.

At first, she thought dealing with a five-year-old would be easy. She never expected I’d use my age as a shield, or that I could be so terrifying, even as a child.

After that day with the knife, she was so afraid of me that every time we crossed paths, she’d freeze, trembling like a mouse confronted by a cat.

Even my father was afraid of me. He knew I wasn’t just making threats—I really meant it. I really would act.

Back then, I was simply following my instincts, doing whatever it took to protect myself.

Anyone who hurt me, I would drag them down with me, even if it killed me.

Maybe it was this ruthlessness, this do-or-die resolve, that kept my stepmother from ever laying a finger on me. I grew up without ever suffering her abuse.

As the years passed, I learned to hide my sharp edges. I became more reserved, learned to keep my emotions buried deep.

People started saying I was mature, steady, dependable.

On the outside, I seemed gentle and polite, but only I knew the truth: when it came to my enemies, I would do whatever it took, without mercy.

My father’s mistress, terrified of me as a child, became even more fearful once I was grown.