Destroyed Us for Your Bastard? Say Hi to Your Cellmate, Ex! - Chapter 43: Chapter 43

Quinn's entire body trembled with pain as the thin heel of Madelyn's shoe crushed her fingers, nearly deforming them. She bit her lip hard, but a whimper of agony still escaped.
Madelyn leaned down, speaking in a voice only Quinn could hear: "Quinn, just looking at you irritates me... Why did you have to come back and compete with me? Wouldn't it have been better to stay dead in those mountains?"
As she spoke, she pressed down harder. Quinn's knuckles made a faint cracking sound, causing her vision to darken with pain.
When Quinn instinctively tried to pull her hand away, Madelyn suddenly slipped and fell heavily to the floor!
"Madelyn!" Richard rushed over instantly, helping her up while glaring fiercely at Quinn. "Did you push her?! How can you be so vicious!"
Quinn trembled as she withdrew her hand, her eyes welling with tears despite herself: "...I didn't. She was stepping on my hand."
"Richard, it was my fault..." Madelyn leaned into his embrace, her eyes brimming with tears. "The floor was too slippery, and I accidentally stepped on my sister. She must have moved because of the pain... I nearly fell, but I'm fine, really. Don't blame her—I'm sure she didn't mean it..."
Richard's expression darkened immediately.
He stared at Quinn with eyes cold as ice: "Since the floor is so slippery, why don't you experience it properly?"
He turned to the security guards and ordered: "Get oil. Pour it on the stairs."
Quinn looked up sharply, terror finally breaking through her composure: "...That could kill me."
"Then be careful not to die," Richard sneered, gesturing for the guards to proceed.
The guards mercilessly grabbed Quinn and dragged her to the oil-slicked staircase.
"Go," Richard commanded.
Quinn stared at the glistening steps, her entire body shaking.
"Richard, I really didn't do it. How could I possibly push her? She deliberately stepped on me..."
But he showed only impatience, signaling the guards to take action.
The next moment, a guard shoved her hard from behind. She tumbled down the stairs, her body slamming against the floor, pain blurring her vision.
"Again," Richard's cold voice reached her ears.
Quinn struggled to her feet, but before she could protest, the guards dragged her back upstairs.
Another fall, then another—an endless cycle.
Her arms and knees were covered in bruises, her forehead bleeding, but Richard showed no signs of ending the punishment.
Only when she could barely stand did he finally grant mercy: "That's enough."
Quinn collapsed on the floor, her vision tinged with red, every breath painful.
Richard pulled several bills from his wallet and scattered them over her.
"Clean the stairs," he said, looking down at her. "If you ever try to make Madelyn fall again, you won't get off so lightly."
"Richard, you're so good to me," Madelyn nestled in his arms, her face radiant with sweetness.
Quinn silently reached out, collecting the scattered bills one by one, carefully tucking them away. Then, with great difficulty, she stood up, took a rag, and began wiping the oil from the stairs.
Her movements were slow, each motion causing intense pain.
It wasn't until drops of water fell on the back of her hand that she vaguely realized she was crying.