BETHRONED TO THE PRINCE

CHAPTER EIGHT

CLARA ROSEWOOD P.O.V

struggled to my feet, my injured leg throbbing with pain. I did my best to clean up the glass and the wine, trying not to let the tears blur my vision. Finally, the floor was clean and the mess was gone. I limped to my room and grabbed a clean cloth, tying it tightly around my leg to try to stop the bleeding.

I limped into the sitting room, trying to ignore the pain in my leg. As I walked, I spotted my phone on the coffee table. With a burst of hope, I grabbed it and quickly dialed Diana's number.

📲"Diana," I said, my voice shaking. "Thank God you
answered. I've been trying to reach you."

📲"I'm so glad you called!" Diana said, sounding relieved. "I've been worried about you."

📲"I'm sorry about that," I said, my voice catching in my throat. "How is my mother doing?"

📲"She's doing well," Diana said, her voice gentle. "She just returned from the hospital."

📲"What happened?"

📲"It's nothing serious," Diana said"But what about you? Are you okay?"

📲"I'm fine," I said, though my voice was shaking

📲"So tell me," Diana said, her voice urgent. "What's going on with Oliver?

📲"I can't talk about that right now,

📲"Please, don't hang up on me," Diana pleaded. "I want to help you. I know what it's like to be treated like a maid. I know what it's like to feel like you're not good enough."

📲"I'm not a maid," I said, my voice rising. "I'm the queen."

There was a moment of silence, and then Diana's voice came through📲"You're lying to me,You're not being treated like a queen.You're being treated like a slave. Why would you stoop so low as to accept that? Why, Clara?"

📲"I can't talk about this right now," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "I have to go."

📲"Please don't hang up," Diana said, but it was too late. I had already ended the call

I put the phone down, my heart racing. I felt sick to my stomach. I looked at the clock and realized I was running out of time. I rushed to the kitchen and started doing the dishes. My leg was throbbing with pain, but I ignored it. I washed all the clothes and started cooking dinner

As I was cooking, I reached for a plate and slipped, falling on my injured leg. I let out a cry of pain, but I quickly stood up, gritting my teeth against the pain. I refused to let it slow me down. I had too much to do. I had to finish cooking dinner.

But with every step, the pain grew worse. I tried to keep going, but I was struggling to stay on my feet. I felt like I was going to collapse. But I couldn't stop. I had to keep going. I had to keep working.

The pain was unbearable, but I kept pushing through it, determined to finish what I had started. Just as I was putting the last dish in the oven, I heard the sound of a car honking. I knew it was them. They were back.

I rushed to the front door and flung it open, a smile on my face. But as soon as I saw them, my smile faded. They didn't look happy. They looked angry. And I knew I was in for it.

"Welcome, sir," I said, trying to sound cheerful. "Welcome, ma'am."

"Get us some food," Viola said

"Yes, ma'am," I said, bowing my head and rushing to the kitchen. I served up the food as quickly as I could, but it wasn't quick enough. I heard Viola's footsteps coming towards the kitchen.

My heart was pounding in my chest. I was terrified of what was going to happen next.

"Hurry up, you fool!" Viola yelled, her voice echoing through the house. "We're hungry!"

"Yes, ma'am," I said, my voice shaking. I hurried out of the kitchen, balancing the dishes carefully on a tray. I could feel Viola's eyes boring into my back. I had to make it to the dining room without dropping anything.

Finally, I reached the table and placed the dishes down with a sigh of relief.

"I suddenly lost my appetite," Viola said, looking down at her plate with disgust.

"But it looks delicious," Oliver said, picking up a fork and taking a bite.

"I don't want this homemade food anymore," Viola said, pushing her plate away. "Can't we just order something?"

"Do you want Clara to get you food from outside?" Oliver asked, looking at Viola with concern.

I stood by the table, not sure what to do. I could feel my heart racing, but I tried to remain calm. I waited for Viola's response.

"No," Viola said, a sly smile playing on her lips. "I have a better idea. Let's eat outside."

"But what about all this food?" Oliver asked, gesturing to the table.

"Clara can dispose of it," Viola said, turning to look at me. "Can't you?"

"What?" I said

"You heard her the first time,"

My heart sank. I didn't want to throw away all the food I had worked so hard to prepare. But I didn't dare argue with Viola. I nodded my head, trying to hide my disappointment.

"Fool," Viola said "Just do as I say. We're going out to eat."With that, they both left the room

"I suffered so much to prepare all this," I muttered to myself as a tear rolled down my cheek. "It was not easy."

I sat down on the chair and started eating the food, even though I didn't feel hungry. "I'd rather force myself to eat it all than waste it," I said out loud, my voice trembling.

But as I said the words, the tears kept coming. I felt like I was trapped in a cycle of hopelessness. I couldn't see a way out.

"I will finish it all," I said, I wiped my tears away and forced myself to take another bite.

I felt sick to my stomach, but I didn't stop eating. I felt like I was a prisoner in my own body, forced to do something I didn't want to do. And as I ate, the tears kept coming. I couldn't stop them.

I kept eating, forcing myself to take bite after bite. I was determined not to give up. But as I ate, I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. I ran to the bathroom and threw up, the food and my tears mixing together in the toilet.
I sat there, crying and vomiting................