In a dark room, a young woman—no older than nineteen—lay curled up on the bed, her hands clutching her stomach as if gripped by constant pain.
"Ughhh..."A weak groan slipped from her lips.
Suddenly, her eyes snapped open. She sat up with a sharp gasp.
"Ah... ah... ah..."(Man, why does my body hurt so much?)
She blinked, her brows furrowing. Then, she froze—eyes wide—as she touched her throat.
"Ah... ah... ah..."
Panic spread across her face. She opened her mouth again, tried to speak—nothing came out.
'Why can't I speak? What's happening to me?'
Frantically, she pushed off the bed and tried to stand—but her legs gave out.
"Aghhh!" She hit the floor hard, groaning in pain.
Sitting up slowly, clutching her ribs, she breathed heavily.
(Why is my body hurting this badly? What the hell happened?)
The front door creaked open, and a fat man stepped inside, a worn leather belt clenched in his hand.
When he spotted her on the floor, a cruel sneer curled on his lips.
"What, bitch? Still trying to run? Didn't I teach you the consequences last time?"
Betty's eyes widened in alarm as he strode toward her, raising the belt to strike.
'Who the hell is this walking barrel?' she thought, panic flashing in her mind.
As he closed in, she acted on instinct—lunging forward and grabbing his leg.
"Wha—!"
His balance gave way. The man tripped and crashed to the floor with a loud thud.
"AGHHH! It hurts, you damn bitch!" he howled, curling up on the cobblestone floor, clutching his oversized belly, which had slammed hard against the ground.
Betty scooted back, breathing heavily, still trying to make sense of what just happened.
She struggled to stand, legs trembling, as the man began to push himself up with a furious glare.
(Why can't I talk? Did this bastard do something to me?)
The man's bloodshot eyes locked onto her, his face twisted in rage.
"How dare you, girl. Looks like I need to teach you again how to behave."
He stormed toward her and slammed his foot into her stomach.
"AGHH!"
The impact sent a fresh wave of agony through her. She curled up tightly on the floor, saliva dripping from the corner of her mouth.
"Ah... ah... ah!"(You worthless bastard... I have a black belt in karate... Just wait until this pain wears off...)
Another man burst into the room, alarmed by the rage-filled screams.
His eyes widened when he saw Betty curled on the floor, clutching her stomach in pain. Without hesitation, he rushed forward and grabbed the fat man from behind, restraining him.
"Man, stop! She'll die at this rate! Isn't it enough that you nearly killed her last time?"
The fat man thrashed in his grip, face twisted with fury.
"I don't care! You know what? Maybe I should kill her!" he growled.
"It's been a damn month since we kidnapped her, and her family hasn't paid a single penny! Get your damn hands off me!"
Betty lay on the cold floor, her breathing ragged, rage boiling beneath her broken body. 'One month? I've been here a month? And they kidnapped me? What kind of sick story is this?'
"Stop it, man! Her father's a millionaire—we can still get the ransom and live the rest of our lives however we want!"
At those words, the fat man froze. Though still seething, he clenched his jaw, let out a heavy breath, and stormed out of the room.
As the pain in her body began to dull slightly, Betty slowly turned onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.
'Millionaire's daughter? I don't even have a family. Are they serious… or did they kidnap the wrong person?'
Eventually, she forced herself to sit up, then stood shakily. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for a way out—but the only exit was the front door, and it wasn't an option right now.
She let out a sigh and walked over to the dusty mirror on the wall.
'At least let me check how many bruises I've got…'
But the moment she saw her reflection, she froze.
It wasn't the bruises that shocked her—it was the face.
The girl staring back had beautiful, tired blue eyes, long black hair, and a thin, malnourished frame. She looked nothing like Betty.
Her heart pounded.
'W-What... This isn't me.'