My name is Evelyn Salvatierra. My father is Count Alejandro Salvatierra, and my mother, whom I never met, was named Amelia Rossi, daughter of a nobleman.
Until I was three years old, I always believed I had no parents. Nana took care of me and loved me very much. The people around me were kind and always said I was very pretty.
One afternoon, while I was playing, I ran into a man who seemed to be drunk. He started yelling at me and said words I didn't understand.
Words like bastard, trash, a wild animal, and many other words that my three-year-old mind didn't understand. But I did understand that this man didn't love me. He said words that stuck with me.
"Your mother was a cheap w*ore, a little woman who slept with the first man who crossed her path and still thought she could pass you off as my daughter. Because you are not my daughter. Look at yourself, you don't look anything like me, you didn't even inherit my hair."
"I only have you here because I can't get rid of you. I hope you grow up fast so I can use you somehow. I'm sure you'll be good for something, either to get more money, more land, or maybe to save your sister. She is my daughter, she looks like me, not like you."
Those are the words that man said, and then I understood.
This man was my father. I asked Nana, and she confirmed it. Then I asked her why he said he wasn't.
Nana explained that there were envious people who had poisoned his heart, making him believe lies, but that she would tell me properly later because I was still very young, and they were things I couldn't understand, at least not yet.
I asked her when I would be able to understand. She told me that I had about two or three years.
So I told her that I would study everything I could, I would read a lot, and after I learned to read and write, then I could understand what the words he said to me meant.
And I did. I tried very hard, but it wasn't in three years. At seven, I began to understand what others were saying. Because after the incident I had at the age of three, people started to mistreat and humiliate me.
But it wasn't until I was eight that I really understood what it was like to be the despised daughter of the Count.
It was exactly on my birthday when I discovered, in the cruelest and most painful way, what it was like to be unloved or the bastard, as everyone called me.
Even though they mistreated me and insulted me, I didn't care because I had Nana. She took care of me and loved me.
But bad luck struck again, and again I ran into Count Alejandro Salvatierra. This time he wasn't drunk, he was in his right mind. I found him in a place where he shouldn't be.
He never went to that place. It seems he was looking for me. I was playing among the trees where the forest began.
At that time, I had long blond hair that looked like rays of sunshine. My skin was white, and my eyes, which were once clear, now looked greenish or blue depending on which side you looked at them. Everyone said I was very pretty, at least those who loved me and cared about me.
Yes, I was different from the Duke. At least the features that stood out were different, and again I ran into the Duke, but again it was Manuela's fault.
She accused me of stealing something from her. I don't know what it was exactly because I never went where she was. I only watched her from afar. We never even exchanged words.
We never even touched. The Count looked for me, and when Nana tried to stop him, telling him that I was also his daughter, that he shouldn't treat me that way, he became enraged. He drew a dagger. For a moment I thought he was going to kill me. I was very scared, I wanted to run but I couldn't. I was paralyzed. I wanted to scream, but I was so scared that my voice wouldn't come out.
Only my eyes were crying, only my tears were rolling down my cheeks, but beyond that, I couldn't do anything.
I felt him grab my hair, and as he told me that I was a disgrace, that I should disappear, that I should never appear before him again, that he didn't even want to see a single hair on my head, and if possible, me neither.
That he had had enough of supporting me and giving me an education. And as he said this, he grabbed my hair and cut it. With each word, my beautiful blonde hair was cut and disappeared.
I tried to put my hands up to stop him, but he scratched my fingers.
I thought it could be dangerous, so I let my beautiful hair disappear.
After he finished cutting off all my hair, he slapped me and hit my hands, saying that I shouldn't touch what wasn't mine, and that if I did it again, this time he wouldn't cut my hair, he would cut my hands.
And if I said anything, he would cut my tongue, and I was not to appear before him or his family again.
That I should be happy that I was living well and that if I didn't do what he wanted, he would leave Nana and me to starve.
That's how, when I turned eight years old, I discovered the cruelty of my father.
Old Jose healed me and told me that my father was wrong to believe what they were saying about me.
That my father was poisoned, that they told him lies, but that I was his daughter and that one day he would regret it.
I told him that if that day ever came, I would not forgive him because I already hated him, and I wished I had never been born, that it would have been better if I had died instead of my mother.
Old Jose said that I shouldn't feel bad because I looked a lot like Grandmother Alondra, who was my father's mother.
But that right now my father was blind and didn't want to see what was in front of him, but that one day he would beg me for forgiveness on his knees.
He told me not to be filled with hatred, that I should be a good, smiling, and happy girl because there are people who do love me and will protect me, like him and Nana.
Nana said it would be best if I covered my head so that what happened now wouldn't happen again, because since my hair was a different color, it could cause me problems.
And since then, I have dressed in the loosest and oldest dresses. I have covered my head and never fixed myself up so as not to attract my father's attention. I almost saw myself as a nun, but to have a quiet life, at least until I can get out of here, this is the best I can do.
Although if one day he asks for my forgiveness, I will not forgive him because, after all, he is the person who has hurt me the most and has caused others to hurt me.
If I wasn't his daughter, fine, but it wasn't my fault.
He would have been better off sending me away, giving me up for adoption, or leaving me in an orphanage. I'm sure anything would have been better than feeling his contempt.
I think that the contempt of someone who should love you is much more painful than that of other people. After all, strangers have nothing to do with me.
So it's easier to ignore them because they don't matter to me, and I'm not interested in them. But my father is different because he's supposed to love me, and if someone lied to him, he should have investigated the truth and not just blindly believed it.
That's why I think I can't forgive him. Besides, over time I've learned that if someone hurts me, I'll make them pay, because that's the only way this pressure I feel in my heart and chest will disappear.
Only then will my heart be free, and I will no longer feel this pain that doesn't let me breathe.
I don't want to feel any more pain, so from now on, whoever hurts me, I will hit them back, no matter who they are, even if it's my father. He too will suffer, not now, but in the future I will make him pay for all the pain he is causing me now, and I don't care if they call me a bad person just for wanting a little revenge....To feel the same pain that I feel now will be the best revenge...
***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***
Updated 54 Episodes
Download
Like this story? Download the app to keep your reading history.
Comments