Prologue: Stupid Bitch

A frail figure sat slumped against the dusty wall of an old, dilapidated building, a fat rat staring at her from not too far away.

The only thing Patricia Newton had to keep her warm—other than the flimsy rags and potato sack on her body—was a used plastic bag she stole from an alleyway dumpster.

Still, that was already a lot more than she had a few days ago. She was grateful that the homeless old lady, who often share leftovers she scavenged from restaurants, snacks and coffee shops, had the heart to give her the customized sack as well as some thread and a needle after Her death, at the condition that Patricia helped bury her old carcass.

Her mind had gone back to the scarce moments of happiness she'd enjoyed thanks to the old lady she grew to regard as her own grandmother, when two distinct pairs of footsteps echoed from a lower level of the building.

Patricia paid no mind to it. Squatters often came and went in places like this one.

All she prayed for, as her bony fingers tremblingly brought the stinking material over her shoulders in a laughable attempt at warming herself up a little from the freezing winter breeze entering through the giant openings in the walls, was for whoever they were to let her stay here quietly.

Patricia had spent countless nights cuccooned against dumpsters, under bridges, and even on bus stops during heavy downpours before. However, today she didn't feel like she would be able to face an entire night of snow.

"I told you I'd get the ***** to cough up the rest of the money, didn't I?"

Because the building was mostly empty, all little sounds were greatly amplified. Consequently, the boastful voice of the man made its way to Patricia's ears with no difficulty.

Patricia, whose swollen eyes had begun to lose focus as they stared at the starry sky, widened slightly. Her ears perked up while her body stiffened.

A throaty laugh resounded in response to the old man's words.

An unusual chill ran down Patricia's spine.

"Are you looking for a compliment? If so, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you. It's not like your daughter was that hard to manipulate. A little coaxing sufficed to get her to eat from anybody's palm."

"You would know," came a dry reply. Patricia guessed the older man was displeased at the reminder that the ***** in question was his own daughter.

Patricia slowly got out from under her cover. This place was infested with pests of all sorts.

She stopped moving.

A light shh was heard shortly after.

Some time later, the same dry voice resumed:

"After all, you were married to her for nearly five years."

Just like she'd predicted, as long as she was careful, the two men downstairs would disregard the noises she made as that of scurrying rodents.

"To think you managed to hide her lovers from her this entire time. You even got her to pay compensation for damaging your reputation at the time of your divorce, all whilst keeping your innocent image intact in her besotted brain."

From the staircase, Patricia saw the way the old man shook his head in bitterness after speaking these words.

Her remaining teeth grinded in her mouth.

Her hearing wasn't playing tricks on her.  The two men were indeed Jeffrey Newton, Patricia's biological father, and Damien McGuire... her ex-husband.

And they were without a doubt talking about her.

Patricia was the ***** they were referring to!

She was the brainless idiot who'd paid her own cheating husband to divorce her because she'd been so in love with the bastard that she failed to realize the idiocy of her own actions. She only saw the damage her plummeting reputation had on her successful husband's image and failed to realize the trap that had been set for her. As a result, she'd jumped into it head first!

From the ongoing conversation, Patricia was able to piece the most crucial pieces of information together. And the outcome was a nauseating truth:

Jeffrey was aware that Damien had been cheating on her before they even got married.

Instead of telling her, like any father would, he decided to confront him about it and blackmailed him into giving him shares in his newly established company. Jeffrey was no idiot. He knew Damien would have no other choice but to acquiesce to his demands if he wished to keep milking the money cow that was Patricia Gorshkova.

It hasn't even crossed Jeffrey's mind to get Damien to let go of his cheating ways after the marriage. Instead, he'd advise Damien on how to keep his extra-marital affairs from reaching Patricia's ears.

In fact, he went a step further by guiding this son-in-law of his as how to get his stupid wife to trust him blindly even if the truth of his infidelity was to ever come out.

"No longer a Gorshkova, no longer a McGuire, no longer a wealthy woman... Patricia must be feeling sorry for herself right now. That is, if she isn't already dead. By now, stray animals must have taken care of her corpse for us. Hahaha!"

The back and forth continued with absolute nonchalance. The reminisced about the wrongdoings committed against her as if talking about the weather.

Patricia couldn't take it any longer. She reached her limits upon hearing her bastard of a father narrating how he'd successfully stripped her bare from the little money she had left after the divorce through the use of a con artist, whom he personally put on her path and had her believe she found and hired by herself.

"This stupid ***** will tell the Gorshkovas the truth about the both of you."

Patricia herself didn't know how she descended the flights of stairs so fast considering her physical condition. She spit those words with frightening determination.

The two man stared at her with equally shocked expressions. They hadn't expected to see her here of all places. For all they knew, considering the lavish lifestyle she'd enjoyed all this time, she should have been dead already.

Had Damien known his ex-wife would be here today, he wouldn't have decided to bring the old fart to see the location of the restaurant he'd promised to let him manage in the near future today of all days.

"Patty!" Damien called out. It was instinctive.

He used the same gentle yet chastising tone, eyes looking at her with a mixture of pain, disappointment and hopefulness.

That was the look he'd give her any time he felt like she was getting out of hand. Any time he felt he was starting to lose the control he had over her.

And each time, she would give in to him, feeling as though she was the one who'd wronged him, despite it being the other way around. Patricia would even ask him if he needed any more money immediately after.

Unexpectedly, the Patricia he'd come to make fun of behind her back because of her docile and easy to coax nature didn't react in the expected way this time around.

This Patricia was someone he couldn't recognize. And it wasn't merely related to her repulsive appearance that couldn't be associated with her goddesses-like appearance from a year ago.

This Patricia didn't even have the decency to respond to the inhumane effort he was making to gaze at her current self longingly, with a positive reaction.

She merely stared at them with venom in her those eyes that now resembled the eyes of dead fish you could find at the market.

The worse part was that she actually spat on the ground when he called out to her, rejecting all the past happy memories associated to the nickname as she did so.

"Let's see who'll be sorry once you find yourselves right back to where you belong, with a bankrupt company and no ally to get you out of the hole you yourselves dug!"

With that, she turned around and ran out of the building.

Jeffrey stared at her retreating back with mouth agape.

Had the little ***** finally lost it?! She could ruin their plans if she opened her trap!

He worked far too hard to reach this far for everything to be snatched from him all over again.

"What are you wanting for?"

Damien's gentle demeanour was replaced by a frightening aura. His big, bloodshot eyes stared at the entrance of the building with unconcealed hatred.

Jeffrey gulped.

It was his first time seeing this side of the man.

"Stop her!"

At his command, Jeffrey chased after his own daughter like a well trained dog. Jeffrey knew what he had to do from the tone employed alone.

"Come back here!" Jeffrey shouted after Patricia. He was already at an advanced age. With years of sedentary lifestyle and a bear belly, even walking was a task for him. As a result, he was already breathless after running only a few steps.

Alas, Patricia wasn't in a better physical condition than him. The strength she displayed earlier was fully exhausted. Her malnutritioned and wounded body was too weak to carry her at too fast a speed.

Eventually, the old man caught up to her. He grabbed her her by the shoulder, squeezing tight to ensure she wouldn't escape from him.

Patricia struggled out of his grip.

"Let go! Let go! I'll tell the truth to my family. I'll tell the truth to everyone. You will wish yo—"

Just then, she found herself falling backwards. Before she could comprehend what had happened, a car collided against her.

Through the buzzing, she could make out the sound of vehicles coming to a stop.

"She...She came out of nowhere and threw herself on my car."

Jeffrey stood frozen in place. He watched the motionless body Of his daughter without a word.

Then, his wide eyes started changing into the form of a crescent moon. Judging by the amount of blood, it was highly unlikely that she'd survive the ordeal.

He stepped forward. He pushed his way through the increasing amount of people gathering around them to get to Patricia.

He kneeled beside her and started crying out into the night.

"My daughter, my poor daughter! How could you commit suicide like that? I know life hasn't been easy for you recently but..."

He covered his face with his thick hands. The smile on his lips could only be seen from below. It could only be seen by Patricia.

"Ah! So it was a suicide attempt!" someone exclaimed.

When a hand squeezed his shoulder, Jeffrey forced himself to reign in his contentment and resumed lamenting as if her death had already been confirmed and she was ready for the rites.

"You were still so young. So what if you cheated on your husband and gambled all your money away? As I father, didn't I tell you I would always be there for you? Why did you have to run away from home? Why?!"

He pounded his fists on the asphalt.

"Your mental health was already not good.... Your mother and I are bad parents. We should have kept an eye on you when the doctor showed concern for your mental health. Forgive us for not being competent enough. We simply thought it was a result of the divorce..."

As he continued to defame his daughter while gaining the citizen's sympathy for the rest of the family and himself, Patricia's unfocused gaze narrowed slightly.

Through gasps amongst the people standing by their side, she saw the figure of her ex-husband exiting the building they were in minutes prior.

Damien McGuire stood straight. He didn't even look her way despite witnessing the entire scene of her accident—and probably devising it.

When she breathed her last breath, the last thing Patricia heard was the cacophony of the intermixed sounds of Jeffrey's unending one-man show, the sirens of police cars and ambulances in the distance, and the unfavourable comments of bystanders, who'd created their own personal versions of her life story, based on the words of the man that called himself her father for everyone to hear and those of the people who'd recognized her—and had no qualms recounting all they heard about her online.

Patricia sneered, a single drop of tear mixing with blood as it fell out of her eyes, onto the road which was now covered in a light sheet of white.

In this life, Patricia had truly been a stupid *****.

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