The Price of Your Favor

The kidnappers called my billionaire parents, demanding a million dollars to save my life. My parents simply said they had no money and hung up. At the exact same time, breaking headlines were plastering the news: the billionaire couple had just spent tens of millions at an auction on a diamond necklace for their eldest daughter. Because of that phone call, the kidnappers beat me mercilessly for three days and three nights. When the police finally kicked down the door and carried me out, blood was oozing from almost every pore of my body. The very first thing my parents said when they saw me was: "Thank God it wasn't your sister." Right after the words left their mouths, they looked at me with guilt and unease, bracing themselves for the screaming and crying I used to unleash. What they didn't know was this: I had developed emotional detachment disorder. I couldn't cry anymore, and I couldn't throw a fit. And I would never, ever feel hurt by their favoritism again. When I was finally discharged from the hospital and went back home, the house was completely empty. Even the furniture was gone. I couldn't get a hold of any of my family members. It wasn't until I called our former housekeeper that I found out they had bought a new mansion and moved. I took an Uber to the new address. When I walked through the door, the family was already seated around the dining table, getting ready to eat. Seeing me walk in, everyone at the table stiffened with awkwardness. "You guys moved and didn't even tell me." "Your sister kept having nightmares in the old house, so we bought a new place," Mom said casually, as if she were just discussing the weather. "Ever since we moved, she hasn't had a single nightmare. You came back just in time, sweetie. Sit down and join us." The table was filled with dishes my sister loved. My face was covered in thick gauze, and I was limping heavily. Nobody cared. Nobody even asked. In the past, my heart would have shattered into pieces. Now, I felt nothing. My emotions were completely gone. Seeing how quietly I sat down, my sister, Chloe, suddenly leaned over. "Seven, I was so terrified these past few days that I didn't even dare step out the front door. That's why I couldn't visit you at the hospital. Mom and Dad were scared I might get kidnapped too, so they stayed home to protect me. You don't blame me, do you?" Before I could even open my mouth, Dad cut in defensively. "What's the big deal anyway? You're sisters. You need to be understanding of each other." I didn't know how I was supposed to react. I was the one who got kidnapped. Chloe gave a bright, innocent laugh. "Hehe, I just didn't want Seven to overthink things!" With that, she picked up a shrimp with her fork and dropped it into my bowl. "Seven has always been so independent, though. Much braver than me. I've always envied people who have so much courage." I quietly set down my fork. I was deathly allergic to shrimp. Not a single person at that table remembered.My name is Seven. I was born on July 7th. My older sister is Chloe Vance. We are biological sisters, without a doubt. Right after I was born, our family business hit a massive financial crisis. My parents convinced themselves that I brought bad luck. So, they packed me up and shipped me off to my grandparents in the countryside. Over all those years, they barely visited me once. It was only after my grandparents passed away that they finally brought me back to the city. I came home full of hope and longing, but it didn't take long to realize that this family had no place for me. On the day of the kidnapping, Chloe insisted on walking down an isolated, empty alley. After walking a few steps, she claimed she needed to find a restroom and ordered me to stay put and wait for her. The next thing I knew, I was knocked unconscious. I will never forget what followed. ... "Worthless piece of trash. You're not worth a dime." The kidnapper's fists slammed into my body over and over, venting his rage. They had mistaken me for Chloe. They took the wrong girl. My family refused to pay a single penny for my ransom, which meant the kidnappers were getting nothing. I was starved for three days and tortured for three days. I screamed until my vocal cords ruptured, until I couldn't make a sound. When the police finally breached the hideout, the men were about to tear off my clothes. Blood blurred my vision, but I still forced my eyes wide open, desperately looking past the officers' shoulders. No one. Not a single member of my family had come. I wanted to cry, but no tears would fall. The doctor told me I was suffering from severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. It manifested as a complete loss of emotional responsiveness—clinically known as emotional detachment disorder, or emotional numbness. The hospital room was dead silent. Once the detectives finished their report and left, nobody else ever walked through that door.At the dining table, everyone treated me like thin air. The three of them chatted and laughed, painting a picture of domestic bliss. In the past, I would have bent over backward trying to fit into their conversations, but today I did nothing. "I'm done eating," I said, grabbing a napkin to wipe my hands. "Which room is mine?" Mom paused, slightly caught off guard, before quickly recovering. "The guest rooms haven't been set up yet." "Seven, don't be mad at Mom and Dad. So much has been happening lately, and they've just been overwhelmed," Chloe chimed in, playing the dutiful daughter defending her parents while subtly painting me as unreasonable and selfish. She had pulled this stunt countless times before. I looked at her blankly. "Did I say I was blaming them?" Setting down the napkin, my voice remained completely flat. "I'll just pick any empty room upstairs. Enjoy your dinner." I turned and walked slowly up the stairs. My parents' hushed voices floated up behind me. "Where did she get that sharp, bitter tongue from? Chloe, darling, don't let it bother you. Here, Mom made your favorite soup, you haven't touched it yet!" Chloe sighed gently. "She's probably just traumatized, Mom." Mom scoffed. "Traumatized by what? Look at her, she came back in one piece, didn't she?" ... I pulled the bedroom door shut, locking all their voices outside.Later that evening, Noah Vance returned home. He wasn't my parents' biological child; they had adopted him when he was young, and Chloe and I grew up calling him our brother. I used to dream of having an older brother who would stand in front of me and protect me from the world. And Noah really was everything I had imagined a great brother could be—except his protection was reserved exclusively for Chloe. Toward me, the intruder who suddenly showed up to siphon away Chloe's affection, he harbored nothing but cold hostility. From the moment Noah walked into the house, he didn't spare me a single glance. He wore his disdain openly on his face. How had I been so blind back then? Even when he treated me like dirt, I was constantly desperate for his attention and validation. I worried about his health and spent my own money buying him gifts. I used to envy Chloe. I was jealous that she had the unconditional love of the entire family. Yet now that all those emotions had been stripped away, their behavior looked painfully forced and utterly exhausting. My stomach let out a faint growl. Noticing that I hadn't jumped up to greet him like usual, Noah actually gave me a second look. "Hey. Take your stuff back. I don't want it." He tossed a beautifully wrapped gift bag onto the counter. I recognized it. It was the birthday present I had prepared for him. A custom engraved silver pendant I had personally polished and carved by hand. I had given him so many gifts before, and every single one was handed back to me in front of everyone. He and Chloe both relished the process of trampling my dignity into the dirt. "Okay," I said, barely looking at him. The staff brought out late-night snacks, but I had no appetite. A whole spread of seafood. Not a single dish I could touch without going into anaphylactic shock. Just looking at the plates made the deep bruises on my body ache with phantom pain. Noah, on the other hand, was stunned. Usually, I would beg him with teary eyes to keep the gift. Resigning myself so easily this time—was I playing some new psychological trick to get everyone's attention? "Noah, what did Seven get you?" Chloe asked sweetly, though her hands moved faster, already tearing open the ribbon. "Oh wow, what a gorgeous pendant! Seven must have spent so much time on this. Come on, Noah, just keep it." Noah tightened his jaw. Keep it? Accepting it would mean accepting her presence. She was the very reason Chloe felt insecure, the reason Chloe had cried herself to sleep countless nights. "I'm never accepting anything from her. Take it back," he commanded, his voice cold and final. My stomach cramped with hunger. Facing a table of food that would kill me, I just wanted to leave and grab a burger down the street. The moment I pushed my chair back, Noah thought I was trying to run away from confrontation. He lunged forward and grabbed my wrist. "I told you to take your trash with you." Chloe leaned back, wearing an amused, expectant smirk. According to the usual script, I was supposed to burst into tears right about now. "Throw it out then." "What?" Noah froze. Seeing that no one was moving, I reached over, plucked the engraved silver pendant out of the box, and tossed it straight into the trash can. "I said, if nobody wants it, throw it away. I'm going out." The entire room fell dead silent. This version of me was completely alien to them. Ignoring their stares, I headed straight for the door. An unsettling feeling twisted inside Noah's chest. Watching my thin, retreating back disappear into the night, he felt as if something fragile and fundamental had quietly slipped out of his control. Chloe shot a quick glance at Noah, her fingers gripping her fork so tightly that her knuckles turned white.I ate my fill outside. When I finally returned, my parents were sitting stiffly on the living room sofa, waiting for me. "Come over here. We need to talk." I already had a pretty good guess about what they wanted. Ever since I came back, the words they spoke to me could be counted on one hand. The few conversations we did have were always about arranging a blind date for a corporate marriage. In elite circles, wealth stays within the circle, and marriages of convenience between powerful families are the norm. The thing was, they would never bear to sacrifice Chloe for something like that. Besides, Noah and Chloe had spent years growing up together, and romantic sparks were clearly flying between them. My parents supported their relationship and refused to disrupt it, so the corporate marriage plans had been put on hold. Until my return solved the dilemma. The unloved second daughter was the ultimate disposable pawn. "Seven, the youngest son of the Sterling family just returned from abroad," Dad said, clearing his throat. "You two are about the same age. You should meet up with him, have lunch, and get to know each other." Mom quickly chimed in, "After everything that happened to you, your father and I have been worried sick. We figured if you had a powerful man by your side to protect you, our hearts could finally be at ease." In the past, I vehemently refused every arrangement like this. Those trust-fund heirs grew up drowning in debauchery, hiding countless filthy secrets behind their polished smiles. Knowing that my parents didn't give a damn about my safety or happiness used to break my heart for days on end. Now, none of it mattered. If going on one date would shut them up, so be it. I nodded calmly. "Sure. When is it?" They clearly hadn't expected me to agree so effortlessly. The long, persuasive speeches they had prepared caught in their throats, leaving them both staring at me in eerie silence. Dad was the first to snap out of it. "Tomorrow at noon. At a high-end restaurant owned by Sterling Enterprises. The Sterlings... well, if he likes you, that's great. If he doesn't, that's completely normal. They aren't just any regular wealthy family." I nodded again. Silence fell over the room once more. "Is that all?" "Y-Yeah. That's all." I turned on my heel and walked upstairs without a single backward glance. Mom and Dad exchanged glances, deep, conflicted emotions swirling in their eyes. "She's been acting strange lately. Do you think she's plotting something?" "I'll have the butler keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't cause any trouble." "Sigh... If only she were half as sensible and sweet as Chloe." "How could she ever compare to the daughter we raised with our own hands?..." I let out a faint, dry scoff. Right. Chloe was the only one who qualified as "their daughter."