Being born into a rich family is a blessing envied by those who lack it; however, under the skin of this blessing a horde of nightmare is waiting for you to show weakness, to fall into despair for it to open its arms to welcome you into its abyssal home.
Jasper was a somewhat timid boy who lacked self-confidence. No! he wasn't, he was just trying to isolate himself. Why? Because his disfigured face was extremely scary. You could describe him as an unsightly thing, as his stepmother used to call him.
...
Looking at him with disgust was a beautiful woman in her early thirties with a poisoned tongue. Her sole purpose was to drive the kid insane or out of the house. His presence was like a thorn in her throat, preventing her from inheriting the fortune of his father. From the perspective of a local, that's what it seemed like, but There's a lot more to it than meets the eye.
One day, the kid was strolling in the hallway of the house when the stepmother approached him menacingly.
"Good morning, mothe—" Jasper said in a soft voice, smiling. He didn't know that his smile was the scariest thing to witness. A whipping palm interrupted the last letter from coming to exist.
Slap!
"What good morning? And what mother are you talking about, you unsightly thing, after ruining my dress?" she said, looking at him with murderous eyes and wiping her hand as if she had touched filth.
"But mother, I never touched any of your dresses," Jasper confessed, tears falling. He was generally not the type to cry, but he had cried a lot since his childhood due to the mockery of his peers, who always bullied him for his ugliness and beat him until he grew numb to it.
But a slap is way different from a punch or any other form of violence. One slap is enough to start a war—it's a sign of humiliation that outweighs any other form of beating, especially when you can't retaliate or it came from someone who you loved so much.
Tears, a mix of rage and sadness, streamed down the boy's face, yet he remained silent. He understood his father's deep affection for his stepmother and knew any resistance would be futile. This was the first time she'd struck him. What had transformed her so drastically in the past three years? It was a question that haunted Jasper, one he couldn't answer. She had once been his loving mother, a source of comfort who shielded him from bullies. Now, she embodied the very image of the cruel stepmother.
As the kid was lost in his own world of thoughts, trying to figure out how to avoid angering her even more, a raspy voice interrupted, bringing the action to a stop.
"So, that's how it is, huh!" Kenan, Jasper's father, emerged from a room with an angry expression.
Maida, who was looking at him with trembling limbs, said, "Honey, didn't you say you'd leave for a deal with some nobles?"
"Yeah, and that's the noble deal I did. I made you think I was out to check how you were treating my son in my absence. I noticed he was less active compared to the first time you came here. You know how much I loved you! You know how I treated you! I kept lying to myself that my Maida was a good woman who would treat my son as her own, yet my doubts were true. You repaid me by bullying my son, my only gift from my late wife. As for your freaking dress, it was stained by your snooty brat."
"Snooty brat? He is our son, Kenan. How could you say that about our son?"
"HE WAS NEVER MY SON! He is your son. I accepted him because I loved you, because I thought you would treat my son like yours if I did that. Yet, here you are, calling him an unsightly thing. Your son, that little fox who's trying to get rid of my son, will bring this family to doom if he stays here for even a second longer. From now on, he will never step into this house again."
"NO! You can't do that. If you want to expel him, expel me with him," she said, trying to make him take back his words, knowing how much he loved her.
"Very well. From today on, you and he are no longer related to this family. It saddens me that you've turned out like this. You used to be so gentle when you were poor. Now, I don't know what happened to the Maida I once loved. You are no longer part of this family. I'll give you 10,000 gold—it will be enough until your great-grandson dies of old age."
"Honey... You are joking, right? Please tell me that you are joking!"
His answer was an angry yet sad expression.
"No, Kenan. Please don't do this to me. I know it's all my fault. I'll turn over a new leaf; I'll never do such a thing again. Please don't abandon me… No, I can explain why I did all of this. Please hear me out."
"No words will explain what you did, get out of my face!"
Maida started crying loudly and then fell down. Kenan, who was close, tried to check on her in the heat of the moment but held himself back, calling for the servants and maids to take care of her.
Jasper, who was shocked by the scene he had just witnessed, didn't know what to do or how to feel. The father he thought had abandoned him turned out to be the opposite—his father had always been on his side. He had simply trusted Maida to take care of him.
Initially, Maida had been kind and gentle, treating Jasper as her own son out of genuine care, not mere pretense. However, as time passed and she attended tea parties and social gatherings, the conversations often revolved around how handsome and successful their children were, while mocking those who were unattractive or troublesome. Jasper became a frequent target of ridicule among the women, who insulted him as a way to pass the time.
For years, Maida tried to defend him, but she finally found herself isolated and abandoned by influential figures for standing up for the boy. Fearing the loss of her social standing and a return to a life of hardship, she began to join in their cruelty. It was at this point that Jasper's life descended into a living nightmare.
In front of the mansion's gate, Maida and her son, who were crying and yelling over the loss caused by their own actions, entered the carriage that was taking them to their homeland. Staring at the carriage, which little by little shrank into the horizon, Kenan's face looked empty as if life had drained out of it—only his wet eyes were the sign of him being alive.
A few seconds later, he fell down unconscious. His love for Maida was so great, but he couldn't turn a blind eye to what had happened to his son. Jasper, who was beside him, didn't know what to do. He started shouting, "HELP!!!" causing all the maids and butlers to come running. They put their master on his bed and called the doctor.
After a full check-up, the doctor tilted his head right and left, saying, "It's unavoidable."
"What do you mean, unavoidable? Is my father going to die?"
Albert—the doctor—avoided looking Jasper in the face out of fear and said, "Your father was in a miserable state the moment your mother died, but he got healthier when he married your stepmother. I don't know what happened to him that made him like this. Did something happen that gave him a shock or anything like that?"
"They... They just divorced today."
"Sigh... I won't pry more into other people's private lives, but I think your father's unstable condition is due to shock and sadness. His heart won't resist much longer. I'll prescribe some medicine that might help him a bit, but I'm not sure when his heart will stop if he continues to grieve."
Jasper felt as if he had been struck by lightning, not knowing what to say or do. All he could do was cry beside his unconscious father.
A few hours later, Kenan woke up, feeling as if mountains were pressing down on him and oceans of sadness were overwhelming him. Looking at his son, who was sitting next to him, he extended his hand with difficulty.
"I'm sorry, son. I didn't know how hard life was for you. I'm sorry for not noticing from the beginning. She wasn't like that before; she was really a warm and gentle woman," Kenan said with a sad expression.
"Yes, I know she genuinely loved me. I was shocked when she changed one day."
Suddenly, his expression and voice turned to anger. "It's all because of those cruel noblewomen! No! It's probably their husbands commanding them to manipulate Maida. I'll never forgive them—NEVER! They mocked you, her, and our entire family. They brainwashed her to ruin our family!"
"Father, please calm down. You won't hold on if you keep getting agitated. If you want, you can bring Maida back. Your health is more important to me."
"I'm sorry, son. They poisoned you when you were only two years old, ruining your face. They've always targeted me through my loved ones. Those nobles and cunning merchants are the devil himself. Even though Maida was just a victim of their schemes, I can't tolerate her for making you suffer all this time. She needs to be punished."
"But father, you're punishing yourself as well by sending her away."
"It's for the best—for me and for her. She would end up dead if she stayed here. How I wish I could send you away too, but they would find you and threaten me."
Jasper was shocked by all the information his father was revealing for the first time.
"Son, it's bound to happen that you'll make enemies when you succeed as a merchant. My fault was being naive as a schemer and good as a merchant. Ironically as a merchant, you have to be a good schemer. I wasn't that kind of person. I gained my clients by being honest and sincere, and even if I went back in time, I'd do the same. But you, my son, you have to be vigilant so you don't fall like your father did. You will find yourself in a miserable situation after my death, but you must stand on your own feet. Keep learning from every mistake, it's all part of the experience that will build a stronger and more mature you."
Kenan said those words and fell silent, uttering nothing more. The days and nights passing with only his tears and apologies to his late wife, Jasper, and his divorced wife escaped in his sleep.
Three months later, Kenan wasted away, his body reduced to little more than skin and bone, a frail ghost of the man he once was. Each breath was a battle, each movement a torment, and Jasper could only watch in helpless agony as the father who had once stood strong now crumbled before him. He sat by his bedside, gripping the cold, bony hand that once protected him, whispering words of comfort that felt hollow in the face of death. And then, one night, with a final, shuddering sigh, Kenan's suffering ceased, leaving behind only a husk and a silence so deep it threatened to consume Jasper whole.
…
A week passed, and the fragments of his shattered heart still lay scattered, unhealed from his father's death, when ominous footsteps, bearing yet another burden, drew near and knocked on his door.