€ I'll Hold Them Dearly. € (REWRITING)

Prologue

Warning: abusive content & SWEARING

Status: Rewritten.
A/n: what can I say? The old version, like I mentioned in the 'A/n... I'm sorry' was bad. So, I present you with... THE REWRITTEN VERSION OF THE BACKSTORY!

3rd P.O.V.

Y/n was born into one of the wealthiest families in the city, a family that was admired and envied by almost everyone who saw them. Their mansion was a picture-perfect display of opulence, filled with rare art, grand rooms, and surrounded by a vast, lush garden that looked like it belonged in a fairy tale. Her parents were the kind of people who seemed flawless on the surface—highly respected in society, glamorous and composed. But beneath that carefully constructed image was a family held together by cold control and brutal discipline. And Y/n, their prized daughter, was both a tool and a prisoner of their wealth.

From the time she could speak, Y/n showed signs of brilliance. Her mind was like a sponge; she absorbed information effortlessly, could read far ahead of her age, and seemed to grasp complex concepts instinctively. She excelled at everything her parents put her through, from private tutoring to advanced classes. Her teachers marveled at her intelligence, her ability to learn quickly and apply what she learned almost as if it was second nature. Her parents, however, didn't see her as a daughter—they saw her as an investment, a possession that could elevate their social status.

Despite her family's wealth, Y/n's life was filled with isolation and pressure. She was never allowed to make friends or go outside without supervision. She was kept away from the world, her parents afraid she might be "tainted" by other children or see glimpses of a life beyond their control. Her days were filled with studying and practicing, and her nights were spent alone in her large, empty bedroom, staring at the ceiling, wondering what a normal family might look like.

But she wasn't entirely alone in that big, hollow house. Y/n had a little sister, Madison, four years younger, and Madison was the only thing that brought her joy. Madison was gentle and sweet, with a wide-eyed innocence that made her the only warmth in Y/n's life. She would sneak into Y/n's room at night, and they'd read together, Y/n explaining big words and ideas in a way that Madison could understand. Y/n adored her sister, and Madison looked up to her, seeing her as not just a big sister, but a hero. In a world where Y/n had no say, no freedom, Madison was the one person she could protect and love.

As Y/n grew older, her parents' demands became harsher. Her father was a successful businessman, strict and ruthless in his career, and he treated his family with the same detached severity. Her mother, a former socialite, seemed to care about nothing beyond appearances and would often remind Y/n that her achievements were a reflection of the family's status. Any mistake, no matter how small, was seen as a betrayal. If she didn't score perfectly on a test, if she looked anything less than pristine at a social gathering, her parents would unleash their anger.

The punishments were subtle at first—a cold silence, a refusal to speak to her for days, or taking away privileges. But as Y/n's intelligence grew, so did her independence, and she started to question her parents. She wanted to know why she couldn't have friends, why she couldn't go to a regular school. She dreamed of a life where she wasn't controlled every moment of the day, where she didn't feel so caged. Her parents, seeing the faintest hints of rebellion, grew harsher. Her father's hand, once reserved for light reprimands, became a weapon he used to remind her of her place. Her mother's words, once merely cutting, became cruel and merciless, aimed to erode any sense of self-worth she had. Y/n was forced to hide her emotions, to never let them see her cry, because any sign of weakness only made them angrier.

Still, Y/n endured it all, keeping silent for Madison's sake. She feared that if she defied them openly, her parents might turn their anger on her little sister. And Y/n would never allow that. Madison was innocent, untouched by the darkness that tainted their family. Y/n took every bruise, every wound, with a quiet resolve, determined to shield Madison from even the hint of what went on behind closed doors. Madison, young and naive, sensed something was wrong but trusted Y/n's reassurances. And Y/n, as brilliant as she was, managed to keep the mask on, hiding the pain beneath a gentle smile every time she was with Madison.

But no amount of intelligence could save her from the relentless cruelty of her parents.

One night, Y/n's father returned home in a foul mood. A business deal had fallen through, and he was furious. Y/n, who had been studying in the living room, was caught off guard when he stormed in, his eyes wild with anger. He started questioning her, demanding to know why she hadn't done certain assignments to his satisfaction, even though she had already completed everything to perfection. Y/n tried to explain, but her father wasn't interested in listening. Her mother, standing nearby, watched silently, her face expressionless, as if what was happening was nothing out of the ordinary.

Y/n made the mistake of answering him back, a hint of defiance in her voice. Her father's rage erupted. He slapped her, the force of it making her stumble back, and then he struck her again and again, each blow harder than the last. Y/n, though terrified, held onto her silence, her mind racing. She understood, with cold clarity, that any sound she made would only provoke him further, that any plea would be met with even more anger. Her mother did nothing, her face still as stone, as if the scene before her was simply a consequence of Y/n's "ungrateful" attitude.

But then, a sound broke through the air—soft footsteps approaching the doorway. Madison, unable to sleep, had come to find Y/n, as she often did when she was lonely. Her small figure stood in the doorway, frozen in horror as she saw her father's hand raise to strike her sister again. Y/n saw her, and despite the pain, forced herself to stay silent, to keep her expression neutral, as if to reassure Madison. Her mind, sharp as ever, understood that if she screamed, if she showed fear, Madison might try to intervene, and she couldn't let that happen.

With one final blow, Y/n's strength gave out. Her vision blurred, her body felt cold, and she could feel herself slipping away. She looked over at Madison, giving her a faint, reassuring smile, the only comfort she could offer. Her mind, brilliant and unyielding, held onto that image, burned every detail of Madison's face into her memory, even as the darkness closed in around her.

As her consciousness faded, her thoughts were crystal clear. She understood everything: the cruelty of her parents, the life she had endured, and the sacrifice she had made to protect her sister. She knew she was leaving Madison behind in a world that was just as cold and unkind as the one she had faced. But she held onto the hope that Madison, with her innocence and kindness, would survive.

And as Y/n took her final breath, her mind lingered on that last memory, Madison's face filled with love and terror, her promise of protection held in the silence. Y/n's brilliance, her understanding, would fade with her, but her love for Madison would remain, echoing in the empty halls of the mansion, forever unspoken yet deeply felt.