Blurb：
My husband Damian Thorne, a brilliant Face Reconstructionist, became obsessed with restoring his first love Anya Petrova's ruined face. His horrific method? Repeatedly flaying my skin for facial transplant research. Each time Anya desired a more beautiful face, my flesh was brutally peeled away while Damian coldly watched.As blood pooled around me, Damian would dismiss my agony: "Cover those wounds. Don't let Anya see you." He falsely accused me of disfiguring Anya, making me endure 101 flayings. But when I overheard Damian's subordinate reveal Anya's facial defect was congenital - not my fault - I discovered the terrible truth: I was merely Anya's human face-growing vessel.
Damian Thorne's surgical scalpel became my nightmare. Even my parents' remains weren't spared - their bones transformed into Bone Blooms for Anya's healing. The Lumina Clan's regenerative powers made me the perfect victim. Now, with my identity erased, I'll vanish across the ocean, escaping Damian's twisted obsession and Anya's cruel smirks.
Content：
My Face Reconstructionist husband, obsessed with restoring his first love’s ruined face, dove headfirst into researching facial transplant techniques.
His method? Flaying mine.
Every time Anya Petrova craved a ravishingly beautiful face, my own skin was brutally flayed from me.
As it peeled away, my blood pooled into a crimson river on the floor, leaving my raw flesh exposed.
Yet, he would casually say:
“Cover up those wounds. Don’t let Anya see you like this; you’ll scare her.”
“You ruined Anya’s face. Even a thousand flayings won’t be enough to pay for what you did. You deserve every bit of it.”
I was the one who had supposedly harmed Anya, so I bore no resentment.
But the 101st time I awoke from the agonizing pain of a flaying, I overheard his conversation with his subordinate:
“Damian, Ms. Davies’s face can’t take any more. If we continue, she won’t survive… Besides, Ms. Petrova’s facial defect was congenital, Sera didn't cause it.”
Damian Thorne’s fingers idly spun a surgical scalpel, his expression chillingly blank:
“She doesn’t need saving. Once Anya has a perfect face, I’ll grant her a dignified death.”
So, I wasn’t guilty after all. I was merely kept alive as Anya Petrova’s human face-growing vessel.
Tears streamed down my face as I laughed.
If that’s the case, then I’ll simply erase my identity, cross the vast ocean, and vanish where no one can ever find me.
1
The familiar, excruciating pain flared again.
Blood on my face blurred my vision, crimson tears tracing paths from the corners of my eyes.
The scalpel was pressed down mercilessly, my face flayed right off me.
Damian swiftly severed nerves and blood vessels.
“You disfigured Anya. I’ll make you pay a thousand times over for her pain!”
My face was placed in a special medicinal solution Damian had concocted.
Every time Anya voiced the slightest dissatisfaction, another one of my faces would join the others in the sterilizer cabinet.
I couldn’t suppress a cry of agony.
Damian sneered,
“It’s just a surgery without anesthetic. Can’t you handle even that?”
My blood flowed like a river on the floor, my raw flesh exposed.
He merely said, his tone dismissive:
“Cover your face. Don’t let Anya see that horrifying sight.”
I turned my head. Anya’s face contorted into a shriek,
“Damian, her face is so scary!”
Damian soothed her, his gaze filled with adoration,
“Don’t be afraid, my Anya. You’ll have the most beautiful face in no time.”
His words struck me like a physical blow.
He used to call *me* his Anya when he was affectionate.
My name, Seraphina, sounds similar to Anya.
I thought it was a tender nickname for me, but it turns out he was never truly calling *my* name.
Damian brought a mirror.
Anya looked at me, a defiant smirk playing on her lips,
“What a truly beautiful face!”
Damian turned and went to the blood pool, retrieved a flower, crushed it, and applied it to Anya’s face.
“Damian, what kind of flower is this? It smells like blood.”
Damian was still adjusting it for her,
“This is a Bone Bloom. It will help accelerate your wound healing.”
Our Lumina Clan is born with innate regenerative and healing powers.
Even after death, our bones and blood can transform into Bone Blooms.
I never imagined that even after my parents were gone, Damian still wouldn’t spare them.
Desperate to get closer, I tumbled off the operating table.
Damian’s voice was low and stern,
“Since you enjoy kneeling so much, go kneel on the broken glass outside the door.”
Through the half-open door, I heard Anya’s sweet, seductive voice,
“Damian, try this one, won’t you? Morbid curiosities made from dead people’s bones, just thinking about it is thrilling…”
From the operating table, through to where I knelt outside the door, Anya’s soft cries for mercy echoed,
“Damian, please, spare my ears.”
Blood from my face trickled into my ears.
I remembered how, on our wedding night, Damian had also teasingly played with my ears.
It was just him recreating the sensations he shared with Anya, using me as a substitute.
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The End