Secret Pictures Captured, Punished for Defending My Daughter

My husband’s beloved first love instigated her son to bully my daughter.

My heart shattered upon seeing my daughter crying uncontrollably. So, in a fit of rage, I slapped them hard.

When my husband arrived, his first love twisted the truth, accusing my daughter and me of being the ones who bullied and attacked them.

Without giving me a chance to explain, my husband threw me and my daughter away in a socalled Women's Virtue Class, demanding that we learn how to behave like proper ladies.

Half a year later, he came with some people to take me home.

I served tea and water, spoke in a soft voice and kept my head lowered, not daring to meet anyone’s gaze.

Everyone said the program was remarkably effective. I was becoming more and more like a proper lady, so different from my once bold and overbearing self.

Until the day I knelt on the ground and said, "Among all of us here, I am the most dignified. Would any of you like a taste?"

My husband was furious and slapped me across the face. "Vivian, didn’t I send you there to learn proper manners? I did it for your own good. How dare you treat me like this?"

"Are you deliberately acting this way just to disgust me?"

I smiled numbly like a fool and said, "Isn’t this what you wanted, sir? A wellmannered, cultured lady?"

My husband shoved me roughly and demanded, "Where’s our daughter?"

In a daze, I replied, "Our daughter? She’s been gone for a long time…"

"Vivian, you have a guest," one of the mentors' voice rang out beside my ear.

I shivered uncontrollably.

Alas, another guest was here.

In Women's Virtue Class, students were not allowed to refuse guests. Even a moment of defiance would be met with harsh punishment.

Here, I learned two things. Obedience and submission.

The mentor said only by learning to obey would I ever have the chance to leave.

I walked toward the living room with my head lowered.

Then, a group of familiar faces came into view.

My husband, Damien Montclair, came here with his friends and his beloved first love, Veronica Sterling.

After half a year of discipline, my mind had become dull and numb.

Following the mentor’s teachings, I bowed deeply the moment I entered.

Then, with practiced movements, I poured tea for everyone and served it to them one by one.

Damien nodded in satisfaction. "This Women's Virtue Class truly lives up to its reputation. You’re much more sensible now."

"If I had known this place was so effective, I would have sent you here much earlier."

Keeping my head lowered, I replied softly, "You're right, Mr. Montclair."

The moment he heard me call him Mr. Montclair, Damien frowned in confusion.

He then spoke in a calm tone, "Although Veronica is gracious enough not to pursue the matter of you and your daughter beating her, you shouldn’t be shameless enough to pretend it never happened."

"I’ve transferred half of the company shares that belonged to you and your daughter to Veronica. Consider it compensation."

I lowered my head and stayed silent.

Damien snapped impatiently, "Vivian Winslow! Don’t you think you owe Veronica an apology?"

His harsh voice startled me. Trembling, I instinctively knelt before Veronica. "Ms. Sterling, I’m sorry. I was wrong."

Thud! I knelt down hard in front of Veronica.

This was the rule in Women's Virtue Class. It did not matter who was right or wrong. When scolded, you had to kneel, lower your head and admit your mistake.

Only by confessing quickly and humbly could you avoid harsher punishment.

Over time, this response had become a reflex engraved into my bones.

Damien yanked me up roughly. "Vivian, what the hell are you doing?"

Terrified, my face turned ashen and my body trembled uncontrollably.

Seeing this, Damien’s hand loosened slightly. "Vivian, what’s wrong with you? I’m your husband. Why are you so afraid? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Veronica quickly played the wronged victim and said, "Vivian must still resent me. She’s mocking us on purpose."

"Actually, you don’t have to apologize to me. It’s nothing for Vivian to hit me a couple of times."

Damien looked at her with pity, then turned and roared at me, "Vivian, you really never learn your lesson. I shouldn't have brought you back today. You should stay here for another six months!"

I panicked.

I dreamed day and night of escaping this hellish place. If I had to stay another half a year, I would lose my mind.

I knelt on the floor and begged desperately, "Mr. Montclair, I was truly wrong. Please, forgive me!"

I begged to Damien, then turned to beg to Veronica. "Ms. Sterling, I swear I’ll never dare to do it again. From now on, I’ll listen to everything you say."

Damien grew even angrier and kicked me hard. "Vivian, are you deliberately putting on this pitiful act just to disgust me?"

"I only sent you to the Women's Virtue Class. Was it necessary to turn into this?"

Curled up on the floor, I sobbed and cried out, "Don’t hit me, don’t hit me, please… I’ll do anything you say, just don’t hit me…"

Damien froze in shock.

He grabbed my wrist, his expression dark. "Vivian, do they beat you here often?"

Before I could answer his question, my mentor, who had been standing by the side, hurried forward in panic.

She stepped over and said with a strained smile, "Mr. Montclair, you must have misunderstood."

"Our Women's Virtue Class has always focused on nurturing virtue."

"We treat every student here like our own child. How could we possibly lay a hand on them?"

Damien shoved her aside impatiently.

He lifted my clothes, urgently checking for injuries.

What he saw was smooth, unblemished skin.

There was not a scar, not even the slightest redness or swelling.

Upon seeing this, Damien’s face twisted in anger. "Vivian, you’re becoming more and more ridiculous."

I cried.

When I first arrived at the Women's Virtue Class, the mentor ordered me to accompany the guests.

I refused, so they beat me mercilessly.

But lately, they had not laid a hand on me because now, they used my daughter to threaten me.

Whenever I disobeyed, they would savagely beat my little Elise.

Her heartwrenching screams still haunted my nightmares.

I had no choice but to submit to them, to obey, to even try my best to please them just so my daughter could have a full meal and be spared from further abuse.

There were even times when a customer gave me a poor review.

Each time, they would drag my daughter in front of me and beat her cruelly.

I could only shield her with my own body, crying and begging them for another chance, promising over and over that I would behave.

The painful memories flooded back all at once.

But the mentor stood beside me now, staring coldly, her eyes full of warning.

I did not dare to say anything.

All I could do was kneel on the ground and beg Damien, "Please, take me home."

"Even if I can no longer be your wife, even if you make me your servant, your slave, I’ll accept it. Just please, take me away."

However, Damien only looked at me with greater disgust. "Vivian, it seems you haven’t learned anything useful here except how to act pitiful."

"Unfortunately, you're putting on such a pathetic show. Do you really think I'm a fool who would fall for it?"

Veronica wiped away tears and said softly, "Vivian, you don’t have to do this."

"You’re making a fool of yourself. You’re losing your own dignity and embarrassing Damien, too."

"I promise from now on, I won't argue back even if I'm scolded or hit. Please, don’t make Brother Damien angry anymore."

She reached out to help me up.

Terrified, I shrank back, screaming, "Don’t come near me!"

I was even more afraid of women touching me than men.

Because on more than one occasion, when guests at the Women's Virtue Class were caught by their wives, it was us who paid the price.

In order to calm things down, the Women's Virtue Class pushed me out, claiming that I was restless and seduced men in private.

The wives were furious and took their anger out on me. They stabbed me with needles, burned me with lighters and stomped on me with highheeled shoes.

I carried deep psychological trauma because of them.

I was scared.

I was truly scared.

At this moment, I had only one desperate thought. Damien belonged to Veronica and I did not dare to try to take him away again.

Just then, Damien looked at me with bitter disappointment and said, "Vivian Winslow, how did you turn out like this? You're no different from those vulgar shrews in the marketplace. It seems half a year still wasn’t enough for you."

I was completely terrified.

My mind was dulled by fear. It grew more and more numb and confused.

I had only one thought repeating in my head.

It’s over. It’s over. Another customer is dissatisfied with me.

Please, don’t hurt my Elise.

Without thinking, I instinctively took out a few pieces of 'candy' from my pocket, not even bothering to count them and quickly popped them into my mouth when no one was looking.

This 'candy' was given to me by the mentor.

She said that after eating it, I could become more 'professional,' and the customers would be more satisfied.

However, I had to eat it secretly. That way, the guests would believe it was their power that made me this way and that feeling of control would satisfy them even more.

The 'candy' took effect quickly. Shamelessly, I clung to Damien and the other guests.

Damien roared in fury and slapped me hard across the face. Half of my face instantly swelled and blood oozed from the corner of my mouth.

"Vivian, you disgusting whore!" Damien cursed through gritted teeth.

He grabbed me by the neck, squeezing so tightly I could not breathe.

Growling in my ear, he said, "Rot here for the rest of your life. Don't even dream of me taking you away."

"Where’s my daughter? Today, I'm only taking my daughter with me."

"Are you out of your mind?" Damien shouted, throwing me to the ground.

Still furious, he kicked me hard in the stomach.

I curled up on the floor, hunched in pain like a shrimp, gasping for air.

"Where is my daughter? Bring her here. We're leaving immediately!" he roared at the mentor.

My mentor was looking embarrassed as she replied, "We... we don't know where your daughter is."

Damien froze, then erupted, "What did you say?"

The mentor let out a helpless sigh and explained, "Sir, we have served Madam and Miss Montclair with the utmost care since they arrived."

"But they leaned on their status as wealthy, powerful ladies and acted arrogant and unruly. They never respected us. If we said a harsh word or two, they would even raise their hands against us."

Damien slammed the table with a loud bang. "I sent them here to correct those bad habits!"

"I made it clear to you that necessary discipline is allowed, so you don't have to hold back!"

The mentor smiled bitterly and continued, "But your daughter... she's still young, yet her temper is terribly bad."

"She refused to let anyone watch over her. She went wherever she pleased and even threatened that if we tried to control her, she would kill herself."

"We can only assure you that she's still somewhere within the Women's Virtue Class. She shouldn’t have escaped."

Blue veins bulged on Damien’s forehead. "Check. Check the CCTV immediately. Find her, now!"

Half an hour later, a staff from the monitoring room came running in, panting heavily. "I found something, but..."

Damien shoved him aside impatiently. "What's wrong? Where is she?"

The man from the monitoring room handed over a USB drive, trembling. "Please... take a look at this."

There was a footage in the USB drive, showing my daughter tightly hugging a man in a hidden corner.

She leaned in and kissed the man eagerly and even her soft, teasing voice could be faintly heard in the video. "Do you like it?"

The clip was short, but it was enough to make Damien so furious that he nearly spat blood.

He kicked me hard in the chest. "You taught your daughter well."

I crashed heavily to the ground.

The sharp, searing pain briefly cleared the fog in my mind.

I stared at the video, heartbroken. "Elise, how could she? Didn't I do everything to protect her?"

Soon, the effects of the drug overwhelmed me again, clouding my sanity.

I lay limp on the floor, grinning foolishly, unable to control myself.

The video was only a brief recording and it was taken three days ago. My daughter’s current whereabouts were still unknown.

The mentor insisted that I might know where she had gone.

Enraged, Damien began to beat me relentlessly, showing no mercy even after I started coughing up blood.

"Tell me! Where is our daughter?" he roared, yanking my ear so hard I thought it would tear right off.

I screamed in pain. "I don't know!"

I really had no idea where she was.

I had not seen my daughter for a long time.

The people at this building said I had received too many negative reviews and that I would only be allowed to see her again after I accumulated 5,000 positive customer reviews.

For my daughter's sake, I had no choice but to take the drugs and serve the guests without rest.

Even when I was not actively taking the drugs, the lingering effects left me dazed, often absentminded and sometimes plagued by hallucinations.

In frustration, Damien kicked me again and barked at the mentor, "Where are they most likely to be? Search every inch of this place and find them!"

He twisted my arms behind my back and forced me to search for my daughter.

I stumbled aimlessly, unsure of where to go.

Relying purely on instinct, I wandered to my residence. This was the place where I had slept and been imprisoned for the past six months.

The moment I stepped inside, a flood of terrible memories engulfed me.

I looked around fearfully, then hurried toward the closet and whispered nervously, "Be good, hide well, don't come out and don't make a sound."

Damien shoved me aside roughly and stormed toward the closet.

He shouted harshly, "Elise Montclair! Are you hiding in there?"

In his rage, he yanked the closet doors open so violently that the entire structure nearly toppled over.

But as the doors swung wide, Damien froze. Visibly startled, he took a step back.

The closet was empty.

In the center, a small twoinch photo of my daughter sat quietly.

Like a portrait, it smiled sweetly at anyone who looked at it.

Damien’s eyes turned red with fury. He grabbed me by the collar and snarled, "Vivian, are you messing with me? Do you think this is some kind of joke?"

I shook my head violently, trembling as I pleaded for mercy.

Just then, one of his friends furrowed his brows and muttered, "Damien, why do I feel something's off? Vivian doesn't seem right, don't you think?"

"She looks traumatized and a bit confused."

Damien scoffed, "She’s just acting to make it more believable. What trauma could she possibly have?"

"Besides, this Women's Virtue Class is highly reputable and completely legitimate."

"If anything were wrong, she could’ve called me anytime and I’d be here immediately."

The others nodded in agreement.

I looked at Damien, bitterness welling up in my eyes.

Come the moment I call?

Really?

The moment I arrived at this building, the mentor snatched my phone away and forced me to entertain guests.

I was horrified and cursed them out.

That night, they beat me until I could not stand.

Desperate to escape, my daughter risked everything to help me. Together, we snuck into the disciplinary teacher’s office and stole her phone.

The mentor noticed and rushed over to snatch the phone from me.

My daughter clung tightly to the mentor’s legs, trying to hold them back. She shouted at me to call Damien quickly.

The mentor struck her hard in the back with her fist. She coughed up blood, but she still did not let go.

I finally managed to get through to Damien.

Through tears, I begged him to come and take us away. I told him that both of us were being abused here.

Unfortunately, he never showed up. He was vacationing at the beach with Veronica and her son.

All he did was make a single phone call to check in with the training team here.

The mentor sent him a video of me shouting and lashing out.

The footage had been edited. Its beginning and end were cut away.

They made it look like I was being unreasonable, impossible to discipline and constantly cursing at people.

Damien flew into a rage upon watching it.

He told them to punish me harshly and not to worry about my identity.

That night, my daughter and I were stripped naked and forced to kneel in the freezing courtyard. We begged for mercy more than a thousand times.

The memory still burned in my mind. I even trembled whenever I thought of it.

Back in the room, Damien casually tore down the photo from the cabinet.

I hurriedly crawled over and snatched it back.

Clutching the photo tightly to my chest, I whispered, "Don’t touch my daughter. Please... don’t touch my daughter."

"I’ll behave. I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt her."

I lay on the floor, holding the photo like it was life itself.

"Elise, Elise... Mommy will protect you. I’ll protect you, no matter what."

Since my daughter was taken away, this photo has been the only thing keeping me sane.

More and more, I could not tell the difference between what was real and what was not, between the real my daughter and pictures.

Damien grabbed a fistful of my hair and slammed my head against the wall.

"Still pretending to be crazy? You just love acting pitiful, don’t you? Addicted to lying now?"

"The training staff may not dare lay a hand on you, but I will."

A large clump of my hair was ripped from my scalp and sharp pain tore across my head.

Blood ran from a fresh gash.

Dazed, I could only think, I’ve been so obedient, so why do you still want to hurt me?

Suddenly, it dawned on me. I remembered some guests had peculiar tastes. They enjoyed beating people as they found pleasure in humiliation.

With that in mind, I dropped to my knees without hesitation.

My body trembled violently, mimicking the desperate wagging of an invisible tail.

I was already degrading myself beyond measure, yet Damien’s rage only deepened.

He clenched his jaw, his voice low and threatening, "So you want to humiliate yourself, huh?"

"Fine. Let’s see how long you can keep this act up."

He turned and shouted at the mentor, "Bring your guard dog."

The dog they brought out was vicious and temperamental. Thick chains restrained it, but it snarled and lunged toward me.

Damien slapped me hard across the face. "Didn’t you want to perform? Didn’t you want to act deranged? To disgrace yourself?"

"Why stop now? Is your act wearing thin?"

In this place, a guest’s request was law.

I stared at the beast and slowly sank back onto my knees.

It growled louder, more savagely.

Perhaps... it really was starving.

Without a second thought, I bit down hard on the back of my hand, tearing off a chunk of flesh. I spat the bloodied meat into a bowl and gently slid it toward the dog.

"Sir, your dinner is served."

That was the last straw for Damien. He seized a chair and brought it crashing down on me.

I shrieked as the blow slammed me against the wardrobe.

The heavy piece of furniture rattled violently and then toppled forward with a deafening crash.

When it hit the ground, it revealed the wall behind it.

Damien glanced up and his expression shifted in an instant.

"Elise? Is that you?" he shouted, his voice trembling in horror.