Blurb：
After being framed for plagiarism by impostor heiress Ann Lawrence, Isabelle Lawrence was brutally tortured by anti-fans in an abandoned factory. Her vocal cords severed, her body broken, she discovered her own family – music legends Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence and CEO brother – orchestrated her destruction to secure Ann’s Gold Music Award victory. Now, with dog vocal cords instead of artificial ones, Isabelle must rise from her hospital bed to expose Ann’s plagiarism and reclaim her rightful place in the music industry. This intense revenge story explores family betrayal, the dark side of fame, and one singer’s determination to heal her broken voice and shattered life.
Content：
Exposed for Plagiarizing the Fake Heiress’s Songs, I Was Dragged into an Abandoned Factory and Brutally Tortured by Dozens of Anti-Fans
I was rescued with a bloody hole carved into the nape of my neck, my vocal cords severed, and my fingers and legs twisted and broken systematically.
My parents, legends in the music industry, mobilized every resource, swearing to hunt down the monsters who hurt me to justice.
My brother, a powerful CEO, was desperately contacting the world’s top medical teams to treat me.
Outside the operating room, their hushed voices carried through the door, each word a fresh betrayal.
“Isabelle plagiarizing Ann’s work was wrong, but… wasn’t this punishment too harsh?” my mother’s voice was laced with a hesitation that chilled me more than the cold table I lay on.
My father’s reply was a cold hard sharp,
“She brought this upon herself! Wewelcomed her back into this family ten years ago and let her steal so much affection that should have been Ann’s. She was never satisfied, always trying to outshine Ann. And now she stoops to stealing Ann’s song!”
My brother chimed in,
“Yeah! She’s the one with our blood, yet she used underhanded tricks to bully Ann. This time, she needs to be taught a lesson so Ann can win the Gold Music Award without interference. As for Isabelle… just get her a dog’s vocal cords. It’s enough for her to speak!”
Agony, sharpen than any physical pain, threatened to tear me apart.
Hot, silent tears sliding from the corners of my eyes.
My family, who had once promised to make up for a decade of lost time, had now orchestrated my destruction for the sake of impostor heiress, Ann.
It was clearly Ann who plagiarized me, yet they believed her word over mine and chose to ruin me, their own flesh and blood.
I don’t want this family anymore.
At the operating room door, a doctor spoke with clear reluctance.
“Mr. Lawrence, Miss Lawrence’s vocal cords are severed, but with an immediate artificial transplant, there’s a chance. Furthermore, if we delay treating herfractures any longer, the damage will be permanent.”
“Miss Lawrence is a singer who relies on her voice and hands. Shouldn’t we proceed with the surgery immediately…?”
“Let it wait!” My father’s command cut through the doctor’s plea.
My mother hesitated,
“Honey, hasn’t Isabelle suffered enough? She can’t possibly attend the awards ceremony the day after tomorrow. She is our biological daughter. Are we really going to let her become permanently disabled?”
My brother’s voice dripped with disdain,
“It’s better this way! No voice, no stealing the spotlight. Broken legs mean she stays home. Useless fingers mean she can’t plagiarize Ann’s songs again. The Lawrence family can afford to support her for life, so what’s there to worry about?”
“If she had the nerve to steal from Ann, she should face for the consequences. The Gold Music Award belongs to Ann. The future Award-winning Singer-Songwriter will be her. Only when Isabelle is completely broken will she stop scheming.”
“No artificial vocal cords. Get her a dog’s—just enough to speak!”
My mother finally sighed indefeat. “Just… make sure she has the strongest painkillers. My daughter has always been so afraid of pain… ”
Hearing this, a violent tremor wracked my broken body.
The malicious attack I thought I’d suffered was actually deliberately orchestrated by my closest family, all to clear the path for Ann Lawrence.
But they never even asked me, just took Ann’s word as gospel.
A tearing pain spread from my heart throughout my entire body.
I stared blankly at the ceiling.
my mother, entering the operating room, noticed my bloodied, trembling hands and criedher tears falling on my bloodied hand. “Isabelle, it’s Mom! Are you in pain? Don’t be afraid, we’ll get the doctor to save you right away!”
My brother, right behind her, made a call, his voice also cracking with what sounded like genuine emotion.
“I don’t care what it takes, find the best specialist for my sister’s voice! Her lifelong dream can’t be destroyed!”
“Isabelle, just hang on. I’ll find those animals and make them pay!”
My father looked at me, eyes full of guilt. “Isabelle, the world’s top medical team is already on the way. Hold on…”
“Once you’re better, my father will personally write a song to sing with you, telling everyone you are my most outstanding daughter!”
I watched theirperformance numbly. With immense effort, I managed to type on my phone with my palm of my less-injured hand.
[I really didn’t plagiarize Ann Lawrence…]
Blood soaked the screen.
My brother quickly took my phone away.
“We know! We all believe you! Just focus on getting better now!”
They nodded, but their eyes never met mine.
They didn’t believe me at all. That’s why they could so easily break me.
My brother, who found me ten years ago, my parents, who held me weeping, promising to spend the rest of their lives making it up to me.
They shattered my dreams with their own hands and threw me into endless hell.
All for Ann Lawrence, who had enjoyed a lifetime of their love.
As my vision blurred, I could no longer tell who was the real daughter and the real sister.
In their hearts, there was simply no room for me.
The biological heir was nothing but an obstacle to be removed.
The doctor injected a powerful painkiller into my IV.
Looking at the terrifying hole in my neck and my twisted limbs, his expression full of pity.
“Miss Lawrence, the specialists your father arranged might be delayed. You’ll have to endure a little longer”
But even the strongest painkiller couldn’t stop the pain in my heart.
I sobbed, desperately biting my lip until I tasted blood.
My parents watched, their eyes red-rimmed with what looked like genuine distress.
My brother shoved his forearm near my mouth.
“It’s okay, Isabelle. if it hurts too much, bite me. Don’t hurt yourself.”
They acted like the most caring family, but I only felt a bone-chilling cold.
When I woke again, it was already the next day.
Before promised specialists arrived, I overheard my brother and mother talking outside my door.
“Alex, Isabelle has been punished enough. Are we really going ahead with having those reporters come today to expose her plagiarism? After all, we don’t have solid evidence…”
My brother sighed, his tone resolute.
“We must expose her! Her career is over anyway. A little more scandal won’t matter. This will secure the judges’ sympathy for Ann, greatly increasing her chances of winning the Gold Music Award!”
“Ann was raised by us, she wouldn’t lie. Even without evidence, I’ll testify for her!”
My father’s voice joined in, a low warning,
“In front of the reporters later, don’t be too protective of Isabelle. She needs to be taught a lesson, to be humbled.”
My brother agreed solemnly.
I lay on the hospital bed hopelessly, but my tears had long dried up.
The reason my brother found me ten years ago was because of a singing competition video from the orphanage.
They recognized me and brought me home.
I worked harder and suffered more than Ann to get into the same prestigious music academy.
Later, I even created “Moonlight in the Abyss,” which earned a Gold Music Award.
And now, my own brother believed Ann’s words and was willing to commit perjury for her, to utterly destroy me!
My heart felt like it was being wrung out.
If I had known then what I knew now,, I would never have gone home with them back then.
“Bam!”
The hospital room door was thrown open.
A crowd of reporters surged in, cameras flashing.
I lay helpless, a spectacle, as they hurled their accusations.
“Isabelle, is it true you were attacked by anti-fans for plagiarizing your sister’s work? Do you admit your guilt now?”
“We heard they cut out your vocal cords and broke your limbs. Are you going to be a mute cripple for life?”
A reporter at the front, feigning outrage, asked a few questions before suddenly pulling back his microphone and laughing coldly.
“Almost forgot you can’t talk now. Let everyone have a look then!”
He yanked the blanket off me, exposing my broken, twisted limbs.
“With your hands and feet broken like this, you shouldn’t be able to copy your sister’s songs anymore, right?”
“Don’t be so sure. Maybe she can be a determined disabled plagiarist. Didn’t someone type with their tongue?”
Another reporter nearby sneered.
Everyone surrounded me, snapping pictures, their contempt and ridicule like sharp knives stabbing into my heart.
Humiliated beyond belief, yet unable to defend myself, my swollen eyes filled with tears again.
“Isabelle, even now you’re still pretending to be pitiful. Aren’t you going to apologize to your sister?”
Seeing my state, the reporter shoved his camera into my face, starting a live broadcast.
“Famous singer-songwriter Isabelle Lawrence was brutally disabled by fans in retaliation for stealing her sister Ann Lawrence’s songs…”
Tears blurred my vision. I wanted to hide, but moving was a luxury.
Camera flashes popped incessantly, capturing every humiliating and disheveled state.
“This is a private hospital! Who let you in!”
My brother charged in, roaring at them to leave.
My mother quickly covered me with the blanket again. My father yelled at the reporters, “Get out before I sue you!”
“Mr. Lawrence, Ms. Summers, as respected industry veterans, are you protecting a plagiarist?”
“Does a biological daughter truly outweigh an adopted one?”
The reporters pressed on. Then a clear, pleasant female voice rang out.
“Mom and Dad are pillars of the music industry. Without their careful nurturing, there wouldn’t be the me of today.”
“They have never been biased. It’s my older sister who always envied their love for me.”
Ann Lawrence, dressed pure white, parted the crowd and walked in gracefully.
Her eyes were red and swollen, as if she’d been crying for hours.
“Isabelle, you must stop this. Mom and Dad have already suffered so much because of you. Isn’t that enough?”
“If you want the Gold Music Award, I’ll give it to you! You want Mom, Dad, and Brother’s love? I’ll give it all to you!”
“Please, stop this madness. I can’t bear to see you like this…”
She broke into tears, dramatically kneeling beside my bed.
I grew agitated, struggling to type a message with my palm,
[You’re lying! I wrote that song! I have proof!]
The room buzzed. Reporters took pictures, but their disbelief was palpable.
My brother pulled Ann to her feet, frowning deeply.
“It’s not your fault, Ann. Don’t be like this.”
He turned a hardened gaze on me.
“Isabelle, stop making excuses. I don’t want to see you sink any lower.”
Then, he whispered something to Ann.
Ann’s face turned pale. She bit her lower lip hard and shook her head desperately.
“No, I can’t. That would completely ruin Isabelle’s reputation…”
“We’re past that! If you don’t bring out the evidence now, she’ll just keep denying it and attacking you!”
My brother grew impatient boiled over, his voice rising.
Everyone heard clearly that Ann apparently had evidence to conclusively prove my plagiarism.
My parents also sighed, urging Ann to produce it quickly.
Under the collective pressure, Ann slowly produced a few sheets of paper.
They were clearly my original handwritten drafts!
Even the crossed-out lyrics were exactly the same, word for word!
Ann spoke through tears, explaining the inspiration behind the song.
She actually knew exactly what was in my heart, even recounting my entire creative process.
I stared at her in horror, only able to emit low, guttural sounds.
How could she know all this? Impossible!
ButI was given no more chances. The reporters urged me to present my evidence.
I frantically searched my phone, only to find all the draft notes I had stored were gone!
In despair, my parents and brother finally shooed the reporters away.
My mother held me in her arms and cried.
“Were the bodyguards you posted at the door useless?! Letting them just barge in like that!”
“Isabelle, I’m sorry. It’s our fault for not protecting you closely and letting them break in. We’ll have your brothersuppress the news! It doesn’t matter which of you wrote this song. You are both our good daughters!”
My heart was full of despair and bitterness.
Doesn’t matter?
Then why did you destroy me for Ann Lawrence?
Why let me be tortured and my reputation ruined
And now, after achieving your goal, you act out thishollow show of family love.
Isn’t it sickening?
A wave ofnausea overwhelmed me.
I vomited a mouthful of blood.
“Isabelle!”
“Isabelle!”
As darkness swallowed me, I heard my parents and brother frantically calling for doctors.
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