Six years ago, I was the head of Research and Development—a Chief Research Scientist—until I was busted for falsifying drug trial data, a scandal that killed countless patients. The entire internet crucified me, calling me the Butcher of the Lab. Before I was even sentenced, a group of victims’ families found me and carved their rage onto my skin—eighteen cuts, right on the street. When I got out, I vanished. I changed my name and hid, becoming a fishmonger at a downtown market, the stench of brine and blood clinging to me like cheap perfume. I was scrubbing down a fillet board when my billionaire ex-husband showed up. Harrison Shaw. He looked at me, his perfect face a mask of shock. “Sloane? What happened to you? Why didn’t you come find me after you were released?” I didn’t get a chance to answer. His assistant, sleek and terrified, leaned in from behind him. “Mr. Shaw, Ms. Wells is still waiting for the fish you promised to personally select for her broth. It won't be fresh if we’re late.” I yanked off my surgical mask, exposing the jagged, half-scarred face I wore now, and let out a cold laugh. “That cut of salmon is twenty dollars. Pay up or get lost. You’re messing with my business.” He threw me to the wolves—Tatum Wells’ wolves—and let me take the fall, all so she could climb the corporate ladder. Now that Tatum was the replacement fiancée, he had the nerve to stand here? 1 I slammed my gutting knife down on the cutting board, splattering fish blood onto Harrison’s Italian leather shoes. He recoiled half a step, a flicker of pure disgust crossing his features. “Sloane, what are you doing to yourself? You know these hands weren’t meant for cleaning fish.” My body swayed, and my hands started to tremble uncontrollably. My fingers were chapped and swollen, the nail beds permanently stained with black dirt and fish guts. Six years ago, these hands handled million-dollar lab equipment. Now, they only gutted fish. “Mr. Shaw, don’t sully your pristine gaze. Are you buying this fish or not?” I reached into the tank, expertly snatched a thrashing trout, and brought the blunt back of the knife down hard on its head. Thunk. The fish went still. Harrison hadn’t spoken, but the old man behind him in line lost his patience. “Are you selling fish or holding a board meeting? I’m going to the stall down the row if you don’t hurry up!” “Selling, of course.” I pulled my gaze away, done with looking at Harrison, and prepared to weigh the trout for the customer. A large, controlling hand pressed down on my arm. Harrison placed a stack of cash on my counter. “Don’t sell anything else today.” “I’ll take the rest of your stock. Pack up and go home to rest.” I didn’t touch the money. I picked up my scaling tool and went back to work. “That’s very generous of you, Mr. Shaw.” “But I run a small business. We don’t do exclusive buyouts. Now, if you’re not buying, please move. You’re blocking the line.” Just then, a saccharine voice chimed in. “Harrison, why are you still here? Miles and I have been waiting for you to come home to make the soup.” My hand, scaling a bass, paused. Tatum Wells stepped forward, linking her arm affectionately through Harrison’s, and then feigned shock when she saw me. “Oh, is that… Sloane? Sis, what are you doing here selling fish?” “Did you just get out and have nowhere to go? You should have told me! I’ll ask Harrison to find you a place to stay, or maybe a job!” She was immediately followed by a man who looked utterly ashamed to be there. It was Miles Harrington, my own brother. Six years ago, when I was sentenced, he not only cut ties and disowned me from the Harrington family, but he also triumphantly brought Tatum—my father’s illegitimate daughter from an outside affair—home to take my place. Our parents had made Miles and me swear on their deathbeds that we would never let Tatum Wells set foot in the Harrington home. They had warned us that Tatum’s mother had nearly destroyed our family years ago, and her daughter was no better. My own brother had forgotten our parents’ dying wish completely. Miles now spoke softly to Tatum. “Sweetheart, why talk to someone like this? Let’s go home. Harrison and I are making you a big dinner tonight.” He then glared at me. “Sloane is a disgrace who hasn’t learned her lesson. Six years in prison and she’s still covered in bad luck!” His loud voice drew the attention of everyone around. An older woman who frequently bought fish from me suddenly pointed a trembling finger. “Wait! I remember now! The news six years ago! The Butcher of the Lab! The one who killed all those people—that’s Sloane Harrington!” “Oh my God! I’ve been buying fish from a murderer!” Harrison immediately stepped forward to try and calm the enraged crowd. “Sloane, you can’t work here. Your hands belong in a lab, not a fish market.” “Tell me what you need. I can help you.” But the shouts and insults were growing louder. Rotten vegetables and eggs began to fly. Harrison spoke about helping me, but his body immediately shielded Tatum. He was terrified that the expensive designer dress she was wearing would be stained. I stood there, covered in the stench of fish and now the slimy mess of raw egg. Tatum peered out from Harrison’s protective embrace. “Sloane, you should apologize to everyone.” “Even though those patients died because of your fake data, if you just show genuine remorse, people will forgive you.” That single phrase, genuine remorse, sent the crowd over the edge. Someone shoved my entire fish stand over. The water tank burst. Over a dozen live fish flopped desperately in the dirty puddle on the ground, struggling for a final breath. Just like I did six years ago. I quietly gathered the remaining supplies and walked home. The next day, the market manager dismantled my stall. “We received complaints about unsanitary conditions and illegal operation. Your lease is terminated.” I looked at the empty space and gave a hollow laugh. They truly were determined to eliminate anything that reminded Tatum of me. They stopped at nothing. When I arrived back at my dilapidated basement apartment, all my luggage had been tossed out onto the street. The landlord had even refunded me three months’ rent—triple the deposit—just to ensure I left immediately. I sat on my pile of belongings, staring into space, when a pair of perfectly shined leather shoes stopped in front of me. “Sloane, Tatum’s research project has hit a crucial bottleneck. She’s only missing the final piece of data.” “You’re a genius in this field. If you agree to help her, I’ll give you enough money to disappear. You can start a new life somewhere no one knows your name.” Hearing those words made me sick. “Harrison, are you insane? You framed me for data fraud and put me in prison for years. Now you have the audacity to ask me to clean up the mess for that illegitimate daughter who killed those people?” Harrison’s face darkened. “Sloane, watch your tone. You’ve already paid for the mistakes of six years ago. Don’t try to throw dirt on Tatum.” “Tatum is highly gifted. She took over your disaster of a project and has practically ruined her health trying to perfect this drug. She’s the one who asked me to come to you, despite everything. Don’t be ungrateful!” I laughed again, a sound devoid of humor. “And what if I refuse?” Harrison spoke with his usual arrogance. “Then you’ll have to deal with the consequences yourself.” Harrison left, and I initially dismissed his threat. I found a new underground apartment and started looking for another job. Then, the caretaker of my parents’ memorial park called me. “Ms. Harrington, the Shaw family has acquired the land where your parents are buried. They plan to flatten the area and build a new sewage treatment facility.” “The Shaw representative said if you don’t accept their terms, they will scatter your parents’ ashes on the street.” My hand holding the phone trembled violently. Was this the man I had loved? He was using my dead parents as leverage, all for the sake of Tatum Wells? I looked at my half-ruined face in the mirror. For six years, for the sake of a misguided love and my family’s reputation, I had silently accepted the blame. I thought my sacrifice would protect Miles and the Harrington family, and that Harrison would remain untouched. What was the result? My brother elevated the illegitimate daughter to a princess, and Harrison cherished the murderer. Only I rotted in hell for six years. Harrison’s call came in. I answered on the first ring. “Have you thought it through? Sloane, stop being difficult. The past is over.” “If you just focus on helping Tatum, you still have a chance to restore your reputation. I’ll help you, alright?” I answered calmly. “I’ll do it.” “But first, I need the title to my parents’ burial plot transferred solely into my name, with a signed contract guaranteeing it will never be moved.” Harrison agreed.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "387296", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel