A Canvas Stained with Tears

The day before the painting competition, I was dragged into a dark alley by a gang of beggars—more than a dozen of them. When they finally left me there, broken and discarded like a piece of trash, my bladder had ruptured and my arms and legs were shattered.

When they found me, my body was barely holding on. My brother, Ferry Jain, flew into a rage, offering a hefty reward for anyone who could find the culprits. Meanwhile, my childhood friend—Chris Hoffman—immediately chartered a private jet, bringing in a team of toptier foreign specialists to perform emergency surgery on me.

But as they wheeled me toward the operating room, I overheard something that froze my blood.

"Ferry, wasn't hiring those beggars to beat Nindy Jain just so Bella Swan could steal her painting a bit too extreme?" Chris whispered.

Ferry let out a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as though he were the one burdened by suffering. "Nindy just doesn't know when to stop. She's already the esteemed daughter of the Jain Family, yet she still insists on competing with Bella for fame and fortune. She should've learned to step aside."

His voice took on a sharper edge as he continued, "Bella locked herself in her room and refused to eat or drink the moment she heard Nindy was back. She used to rely on me the most and I won’t let anyone bully her—not even Nindy."

Chris hesitated. "But... Nindy is your sister."

Ferry scoffed, as if that was merely an inconvenient detail. "With our family's wealth and power, even if she's been... tainted, there will still be plenty of men willing to marry her. Once Bella secures her gold medal in the painting competition, I’ll make it up to Nindy later."

Make it up to me? I felt hot tears slip silently from the corners of my eyes. What future is left for me when my life is already ruined? This house, filled with lies and betrayal, has never truly been my home.

——

"Mr. Jain, Miss Jain’s injuries are severe," the doctor interjected urgently. "If we delay the surgery any longer, she could be crippled for life—permanently incontinent."

But my brother’s response was icecold. "I said no surgery. Are you deaf?"

Chris stiffened, his voice laced with unease. "Ferry, Nindy is already no threat to Bella. In this state, she can’t compete with her anymore. Are you really willing to let your own sister spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair?"

"What’s wrong with that?" Ferry’s tone was indifferent. "Even in a wheelchair, the eldest daughter of the Jain Family is still superior to those lowly commoners. At least this way, she’ll finally learn to accept her place and stop making things difficult for Bella. And even if I never marry, I’ll take care of her for the rest of her life."

His hand, warm yet suffocating, rested on my frozen fingers as he gazed at me with what could only be described as mock affection.

"I promised Bella she would stand on stage for the painting competition tomorrow. The surgery can wait until after that."

My stomach twisted in agony—not just from my broken body, but from the cruel realization that this had never been an accident.

Everything— The ambush. The beating. The betrayal. It was all orchestrated by my own flesh and blood. And the boy who once promised to marry me? Even he was protecting a girl he had only known for a month. The pain of despair was a blade twisting deep in my bones.

I must have been crying, because Chris suddenly gripped my trembling hand, his voice choked with emotion. "Nindy, does it hurt? Just hold on a little longer—I won’t leave your side."

Then he shoved open the door and stormed out, yelling at the staff. "Where the hell is the medical team?! Didn’t I tell you to give her more anesthetic? Why is she still in so much pain?!"

Ferry flinched at the outburst. When he turned and saw my tearsoaked pillow, his expression twisted into something that looked an awful lot like guilt.

"It’s my fault..." he murmured, stroking my hair in mock remorse. "I should’ve protected you better. Don’t worry, I’ll hunt down those bastards—no matter where they run, they won’t escape my wrath."

His grief looked so real, so convincing, that for a moment I almost believed him. But I knew better now. I was nothing more than a pawn in the web of lies he had spun. And there was nothing I could do to escape.

“Nindy, don’t be afraid. Your brother is here with you,” my brother murmured, his voice filled with forced reassurance. “Chris has already arranged for a private plane to bring in top medical experts. They just haven’t arrived yet… but they will be here by tomorrow. I promise you.”

He spoke as if his words could bridge the unbearable pain coursing through my broken body.

“You love painting, don’t you?” he continued, placing a hand over his chest as if making an unshakable vow. “I swear, you’ll be able to continue doing what you love.”

I pressed my trembling fingers against my aching heart and whispered, “Brother, can I… can I really stand again?”

For a moment, he hesitated. His usually unwavering gaze faltered, unable to meet mine. “Of course you can. Trust me.”

But after spinning so many lies, even he must have lost track of what was real and what wasn’t. He had sacrificed too much for Bella. How could he possibly let me remain a threat?

One was my own blood, the brother who once swore to help me reclaim the love I had lost in childhood. The other was my childhood companion, the boy who had promised to take me across the world when we were young.

And yet, for the sake of that venomous snake, Bella—the imposter who schemed and manipulated from the shadows—they had both chosen to betray me. To pave the way for her future, they had abandoned me without hesitation.

The very people who once promised to pull me from the darkness were the ones who had pushed me into an abyss with no end. Despair wrapped around me like an iron shroud. I turned my head away, unwilling to look at them any longer.

The doctor approached, medical tools in hand. His gaze swept over my battered body—my bloodied limbs, my lower body soaked in crimson. He had seen countless horrors in his profession, yet even he could not suppress the sadness in his eyes.

“Miss Jain, please bear with it for a little while. The surgery will take some time, but for now, we need to clean your wounds to prevent infection.”

I clenched the bedsheet beneath me, my nails digging into the fabric, smearing it with my own blood. The pain was excruciating—so intense that I nearly lost consciousness. But the real agony did not stem from my broken body. It was my heart that suffered the deepest wounds.

Chris turned away, unable to watch me writhe in pain, his silent tears falling to the floor. My brother stood stiffly beside him. As he looked at me, his breathing grew ragged and his eyes turned red at the edges, brimming with feigned grief. His concern appeared so genuine. If I had not known better, I might have believed it. But I had long since become numb to his deception.

As the doctors worked on my wounds, I overheard my brother and Chris speaking in hushed voices outside my hospital room.

Chris’s voice carried an edge of guilt. “Do we really have to go through with this? Nindy is already like this… and now you still want to expose her through those livestreamers?”

My brother sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. A second later, his voice turned cold, decisive.

“Of course we do. If we stop now, wouldn’t all the suffering she endured be meaningless? Besides, she’s already tainted—one more incident won’t change anything. The judges of the Painting Association despise artists with moral corruption. This will destroy any hope she has left.”

He paused before adding, “I’m doing this for her own good. She needs to learn her lesson. One day, she’ll understand that everything I did was for her benefit.”

My heart turned to ice. This was my life. The life I had spent countless sleepless nights fighting for. The years I had poured into my craft, the blisters and callouses that had formed from gripping my paintbrush too tightly. And with just a few words, he was trying to erase all of it.

If I had known that returning to this house would lead to this nightmare, I might have been better off letting my foster mother force me into an unwanted marriage.

The sound of hurried footsteps filled the corridor. A moment later, a group of livestreamers burst into my hospital room.

The small space was instantly overwhelmed by their presence. Cameras were shoved in my face, microphones pressed against my lips. I was drowning in a sea of flashing lights and jeering voices. Surrounded by demons in human skin, I had never felt smaller… more powerless.

“Miss Jain, rumors say that you sought out dangerous thrills and ended up in the hospital because of your own depraved actions. How do you respond to that?”

“Miss Jain, do you have a peculiar fetish? Are normal men no longer enough to satisfy you? Is that why you turned to beggars?”

“Miss Jain, during your university years, it was said that you seduced other women’s boyfriends and even became a mistress, kept by a wealthy man. Are these allegations true?”

Amidst the chaos, someone shoved me off the hospital bed. A sharp, searing pain shot through my body, threatening to drag me into unconsciousness. With only a thin sheet covering my wounds, an aggressive female anchor sneered and yanked it away, exposing my battered body to the cameras. The others lunged forward, eager to capture every humiliating detail.

I was nothing more than a spectacle, an object on display, my dignity torn to shreds before a live audience. Biting down hard on my lip, I tasted blood, but the pain was nothing compared to the agony clawing at my soul. Tears streamed down my face as the voices around me grew louder.

"Tsk, tsk, disgusting. She deserves this."

"A woman like this might as well just die!"

"Fans, take a good look—this is what happens when you live shamelessly. A warning to all girls out there: stay pure."

Their taunts sliced through me like knives, each word a fresh wound. My entire body trembled, my sobs uncontrollable, but the cruelty only fueled their frenzy. One of the anchors, emboldened by the flood of donations pouring into her livestream, smirked and leaned in closer.

"Ms. Jain, our viewers are curious—were you always this promiscuous? How about sharing your contact information? Seems like quite a few fans are... interested."

The live chat was filled with a single word, repeated over and over: slut.

Looking at the pitiful wreck I had become, I realized that even death had abandoned me. My only instinct was to curl up, twisting my broken limbs to shield myself from their prying eyes. Their laughter rang in my ears, relentless, suffocating. Then, a roar shattered the torment.

"Who the hell are you people?! Get out!"

My brother stormed into the room, fists flying as he drove the anchors away. Chris rushed to my side, gently lifting me back onto the bed and pulling the blanket over me, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"This is my fault," he murmured, his voice thick with guilt. "If I had stayed with you, none of this would have happened."

Beside him, my brother raised a trembling hand and slapped himself hard across the face.

"Nindy, cry if you need to. This is all my fault. I swear I'll make them pay for this. Those heartless bastards will regret ever laying a hand on you! Don't worry, none of what they recorded will ever see the light of day."

The sincerity in his voice was flawless, his act impeccable. But the more they pretended to care, the deeper my disgust grew. They had orchestrated every step of this nightmare. Why would they stop now? As expected, within hours, the livestream footage had been clipped, edited and spread across every corner of the internet. The entire world now knew me as the depraved, thrillseeking heiress of the Jain Family.

My name was forever tarnished, my dignity obliterated. For Bella, my own brother and the childhood friend who once swore to protect me had personally thrown me into the flames and left me to burn. The realization hit me like a dagger to the heart, my breath hitching in my throat. Panic surged through my chest, choking me, until my vision blurred and I gasped for air.

Chris bolted out of the room, returning moments later with the team of specialists who had been standing idly outside. They surrounded me, conducting their assessments in grave silence, until finally, one of them spoke.

"The situation is dire. Because the optimal window for surgery was missed, the infection has spread. The damage to the lower body is severe—both the bladder and uterus are compromised. Urinary incontinence is almost inevitable and the chances of pregnancy are nearly nonexistent."

He hesitated before continuing, his voice heavy. "As for her limbs, the tendons and nerves have been severely damaged. The probability of a full recovery is less than ten percent. You need to be prepared for the worst."

My brother lunged forward, seizing the specialist by the collar, his eyes wild with desperation.

"You were brought here to save her, not spout nonsense! I don’t care how much it costs—just do the damn surgery!"

His grip trembled as he turned back to me, his body wracked with sobs. He cradled me in his arms, his tears wetting my hair. "I'm so sorry, Nindy... I'm so sorry..."

Chris was so overwhelmed by the entire ordeal that he fainted. Watching their impeccable performance yet again, I simply lowered my gaze, my heart devoid of any emotion.

When I woke up, I felt a hand tightly holding mine. Chris was resting his head on the hospital bed, his face weary from exhaustion. At the faintest movement of my fingers, he jolted awake, his expression instantly lighting up with relief and joy.

"Nindy, you're finally awake! How do you feel? Where does it hurt? I'll call the doctor right away!"

His concern, though seemingly genuine, only made me sick to my stomach. After destroying my body and shattering my spirit, he now had the audacity to feign affection? Who was he trying to convince?

I forced a weak smile and whispered, "You've stayed up all night. It must have been exhausting for you. You should go back and rest. The nurses will take care of me."

He hesitated, still playing his role. "But the nurses might be careless. What if they hurt you?"

Your presence is what hurts me the most.

"Go home, Chris. I'm fine."

Faced with my unwavering insistence, he had no choice but to leave, albeit reluctantly.

An hour later, my phone buzzed. A message from Bella.

I opened it to find a photo and a video. The timestamp confirmed that while I was undergoing surgery, she was on stage, accepting an award that should have been mine.

In the picture, my brother and Chris stood by her side, both beaming as they held up the championship trophy together. They looked like a perfect little family, basking in their victory—while I, the true outsider, was left behind, discarded and forgotten.

My breath hitched. Just minutes earlier, Chris had been at my bedside, whispering sweet nothings of concern. Yet here he was, celebrating in a grand hotel, laughing and drinking as if nothing had happened.

I clicked on the video. A ninelayer pink strawberry cake stood in the center of the room—Bella’s favorite color and fruit and the one I despised the most. She giggled as she smeared frosting onto their faces. Instead of getting angry, they chuckled fondly, affectionately calling her their "little troublemaker."

What caught my eye next made my fingers tighten around the phone. Chris wore a ring on his hand. A ring that was identical to the one on Bella’s finger.

She hadn’t written a single word to provoke me, yet her message was clear as day. Nothing hurts more than watching someone steal what was once yours.

I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and was about to lock my phone when another notification appeared in the small threeperson group chat I shared with my brother and Chris.

[Ferry: "Chris, you must treat Bella well. Back when I lost everything, it was Bella who jumped into the sea to save me. Whatever she wants, even if it’s the stars in the sky, I will make sure she has them."]

A second later, the message was withdrawn. My fingers trembled as I clutched the phone, my chest tightening with an unbearable ache. A tidal wave of pain surged forward, threatening to drown me in its depths.

That day, the person who saved my brother had been me. When did the truth become her Bella’s?

Tears slipped silently down my cheeks, soaking the hospital quilt. I had lost everything—my dignity, my reputation, my dreams. And now, even my past was being rewritten, stolen by the very people I had once loved. In my darkest despair, a thought surfaced. A phone call from a month ago.

My mentor, Professor Karl, had once offered me a place in a topsecret national project for painting artifact restoration. Back then, I had hesitated. Now, there was nothing left for me here.

With a deep breath, I dialed his number.

"Professor Karl," I said, my voice steady. "I’ve decided to accept your offer. I’ll join the project."

His delight was evident. "Truly? That’s wonderful news! Your talent is unparalleled, Nindy. But I must remind you—this is a topsecret project. Once you enter, all traces of your existence will be erased from the world. Are you certain you want this?"

"I’m certain. I’ll book my flight and be there in three days."

Just as I ended the call, my brother entered the room, his expression unreadable. "I thought I heard you mention a plane ticket. Where are you going?"\

I met his gaze calmly, my lips curving into an indifferent smile. "Nowhere important," I said, finding a convenient excuse to dismiss his question.

After all, there was no need for him to know. Soon, I would vanish from their world entirely.

"No, my best friend was just asking if I wanted to book a plane ticket with her for a trip once I’ve recovered," I said, my voice calm and unbothered.

My brother let out a quiet sigh of relief, but a flicker of hesitation crossed his face. He hesitated for a moment before asking in a forced casual tone, "Just now, in our little group chat... did you see anything?"

I shook my head, feigning ignorance, acting as if I had seen nothing at all.

My brother fell silent for a few seconds, his expression conflicted. He looked at me as if he wanted to say something but struggled to find the right words. After a long pause, he finally spoke.

"Nindy, Chris is planning to get engaged to our family the day after tomorrow and the bride is..."

I waved my hand dismissively before he could finish. "I know. It’s Bella. You don’t have to worry about me throwing a fit. I’ve always seen Chris as my brother."

As soon as I finished speaking, Chris appeared in the doorway. His brows furrowed slightly and for a brief moment, a flicker of something—loss, perhaps—flashed in his eyes.

My brother, however, looked immensely relieved. "At first, I was afraid you’d make a scene, but you’re more understanding than I expected. That’s my sister. Don’t worry, I’ll find you a better boyfriend in the future."

Later? What later? By the third day, Chris and Bella were trying on wedding attire. My brother was so excited that he insisted I come along to witness their socalled happiness.

The moment Bella walked into the boutique, she drew envious gazes from everyone around her. She looked like the brightest star in the night sky, the very image of elegance and grace.

My brother pushed my wheelchair forward, positioning me among the crowd so that I could applaud their joy. Bella approached me, a look of feigned surprise crossing her delicate features. "Oh Nindy, how did you end up looking like this? When I saw your live broadcast, I almost threw up… Actually, I was just wondering—were you born to be so... filthy?"

Her sickeningly innocent words drew murmurs from the surrounding crowd. Their eyes filled with judgment, whispers of disdain spreading like wildfire. I ignored her provocation, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

She turned to my brother, lowering her voice just enough for me to hear, "Brother, I feel guilty. It’s my fault Nindy ended up like this. Can I take her outside for a little walk?"

"You don’t have to blame yourself," my brother reassured her, glancing at me with a subtle warning in his eyes. "None of this is your fault. No one would dare blame you."

Without waiting for my response, Bella grabbed the handles of my wheelchair and wheeled me outside to a secluded spot near a small pool behind the bridal store.

The moment we were alone, the sweetness on her face melted into something cruel and twisted. "Nindy, the honor that should’ve been yours—brother and Chris willingly gave it to me. Doesn’t that make you furious?"

I let out a cold chuckle. "Unlike you, I’m not shameless enough to steal what isn’t mine. You plagiarized someone else’s work and yet you still have the audacity to stand here and act so high and mighty. If I were you, I’d throw myself into this pool and end it already."

Her expression darkened instantly and she looked like a lioness ready to tear me apart. She suddenly kicked my already injured leg. A sharp, searing pain shot through me, stealing the breath from my lungs.

"Hurts, doesn’t it? But no matter how much pain you’re in now, it’s nothing compared to what those beggars did to you!" she sneered, her voice dripping with venom.

"Nindy, why did you have to come back to the Jain Family? Why couldn’t you just disappear and let me have everything?! You should’ve died!"

I exhaled slowly, suppressing the burning pain in my leg. "Don’t worry. I have no interest in taking anything from you. Once I leave, you’ll still be the beloved daughter of the Jain Family, just like before."

Her eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a sinister smile. "I don’t believe you! Not unless you spend the rest of your life rotting away in a prison cell!"

Before I could react, she suddenly pulled out a blade from somewhere and slashed her palm, letting the blood spill freely.

"Blood! Ms. Jain is hurt!" someone screamed in alarm.

From inside the boutique, my brother and Chris paled with panic and rushed outside. Their faces were full of worry and distress as they hurried to her side.

In their blind concern, they knocked over my wheelchair, sending me crashing onto the hard ground. The impact sent a jolt of pain through my battered body, but they didn’t even spare me a glance.

Bella seized the moment, pressing the bloodstreaked blade into my hand. My fingers instinctively clenched around it and in the next second, fresh crimson stained my own hand as well.

By the time my brother and Chris turned their attention to me, it was already too late. The scene before them was exactly what Bella had orchestrated—a helpless, wretched girl clutching a bloodied blade, while she stood before them, trembling and injured. The perfect victim. She looked up at them, her eyes glistening with unshed tears and whispered, "Brother, Chris… She… She tried to hurt me..."

A cold, suffocating silence fell over the air. And just like that, I knew— This time, they wouldn’t hesitate to believe her.

The wound on my calf had reopened, blood seeping through the fabric of my pants, but no one seemed to care.

"Doctor! Someone call an ambulance!" Chris's voice was frantic. "Bella's hand—her hand is the hand of a future great painter! Nothing can happen to it!"

He was panicking, his hands trembling as he tried to take control of the situation. Meanwhile, my brother tore off his own shirt, hastily wrapping it around Bella’s wound. He pulled her into his arms, whispering reassurances.

"It's okay, Bella. The doctor will be here soon. Just hold on." His voice was filled with concern, but his eyes were blazing with rage as they landed on me. "What the hell happened?"

Bella whimpered, her tearfilled gaze locking onto mine, her expression full of fragile innocence. "I... I only wanted to take Nindy outside for some fresh air, to help her feel better. But then—" she choked on a sob, "—she suddenly grabbed a razor and slashed my hand. She said that if she couldn’t paint, then I shouldn’t be able to either. I was so scared..."

She sniffled, trembling slightly and clutched my brother’s arm like a frightened child.

"Brother, please don’t be angry at her... I know she didn’t mean it... she’s just—she’s just upset."

Her performance was flawless. The perfect victim. But I could see the flicker of triumph in her eyes.

My brother’s face darkened, his hands clenching into fists.

"Nindy!" he thundered. "What the hell is wrong with you?! Bella has nothing to do with your mess! If you ruin her ability to paint, I swear, I’ll make you pay with your life!"

Chris’s eyes burned with fury as he stepped forward. "Nindy, I know you’re angry that I chose Bella over you, but this? This is pathetic. I used to pity you, but now I see—this is all your own doing. You deserve every bit of what’s happening to you."

The ambulance arrived moments later and my brother and Chris helped Bella onto the stretcher. As they disappeared inside the vehicle, my brother turned back to the bodyguards.

"Lock her in the car," he ordered coldly. "She seems to love blades so much—let’s see how much she likes being locked up with a hundred of them. Let her think about what she’s done."

My heart pounded. Panic surged through me. I fell to my knees, my hands scraping against the pavement as I begged. "Brother, please! I didn’t do anything! Please, you have to believe me!"

His response was nothing but a cruel smirk. I sobbed, my voice hoarse as I pleaded, but my cries fell on deaf ears. Chris hesitated for a brief second. "Ferry, are you sure about this? The weather is scorching today and locking her in a car could be dangerous. What if something happens?"

My brother scoffed. "Oh, come on. She survived being abused by a dozen beggars. She won’t die that easily. Besides, we’re just scaring her. Let her sweat a little. She deserves it."

And with that, they left.

Hours passed. My throat was parched, my body drenched in sweat. The air inside the car was suffocating, the heat unbearable. My breath came in ragged gasps as I struggled against my restraints.

Then—I smelled it. Smoke. A flicker of orange light reflected on the car window. Flames. The car was on fire. I screamed, pounding my fists against the glass, my voice raw as I cried for help. The heat intensified, scorching my skin. I was going to die here. My vision blurred as I fought against the overwhelming dizziness. The smoke filled my lungs, burning from the inside out. Desperation clawed at my chest. Someone, please.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, my brother and Chris sat beside Bella as the doctor examined her injury. When they finally received confirmation that her hand would fully heal, my brother let out a sigh of relief.

"Good. Then let’s wrap this up. Release Nindy," he said casually. "A small punishment is enough. She’s still my sister, after all."

Chris nodded, reaching for his phone to call the guards. But before he could dial, his assistant burst into the room, his face pale with terror.

"Mr. Jain! There’s an emergency! The car—Miss Jain’s car—it’s on fire!" he blurted out, breathless. "Just a minute ago, she sent an email to your inbox!"