Chapter 2

Michael didn't bother with any foreplay.

He ripped my dress apart, rough and brutal, just venting.

My back slammed against the headboard, pain exploding along my spine.

My heart clenched violently, like someone was squeezing it hard. I couldn't breathe from the pain, and the tearing sensation below was even worse.

My vision started going dark, my consciousness drifting.

In a daze, I seemed to go back many years.

Back when Michael still loved me, he was always so careful, afraid of hurting me.

When things got intense, he would kiss me tenderly.

Why doesn't he kiss me anymore?

"Michael..."

I reached out, wrapped my arms around the man's neck, and groggily leaned in for a kiss.

Michael's body went stiff.

The next second, he jerked his head away, his voice full of disgust: "Don't touch me. Amelia, you're filthy."

That brief moment of confusion instantly cleared.

A warm stream suddenly gushed from my nose.

I turned my head, and blood dripped onto the sheets.

Severe heart failure was causing my body to break down. I'd been getting nosebleeds more and more often lately.

Michael stopped moving.

He looked down, and in the dim light from the bedside lamp, he saw the bloodstain.

He frowned, a barely noticeable emotion flashing in his eyes as he grabbed my chin and lifted it: "What's going on? Why are you bleeding?"

I didn't want him to know I was dying.

I casually wiped away the blood and forced a smile: "I was worried I wouldn't be able to handle the client, so I took some pills before I came. I guess they're kicking in now."

The emotion in Michael's eyes vanished instantly.

He raised his hand and slapped me: "You really go all out to fetch a good price."

My cheek burned with pain, my ears ringing.

I ran my tongue along the inside of my cheek and smiled without saying anything more.

Michael didn't say anything either, just moved even more viciously than before, as if he wanted to kill me in that bed.

Actually, dying in Michael's bed wouldn't be so bad.

But the night was always short. When I opened my eyes, it was already morning.

I was alone in the room.

A stack of bills sat on the nightstand.

I picked it up and counted.

Only ten thousand dollars.

I got dressed despite the aching all over my body. Michael happened to push the door open just then.

He'd changed into a suit, looking impeccable, as if the crazed beast from last night wasn't him.

I waved the money: "Mr. Johnson, one night is only worth ten thousand dollars? Aren't you being a bit cheap?"

Michael fastened his cufflinks without even looking up: "Someone like you is only worth that much."

I stuffed the money in my bag: "Since I can't make money with Mr. Johnson, I guess I'll have to find somewhere else, find a few more clients."

Michael's hand froze on his button.

He looked up sharply, staring at me hard: "You wouldn't dare."

"Why wouldn't I dare?" I looked at him. "I need money. Mr. Johnson won't give it, but won't let others give it either?"

Michael sneered. He grabbed a piece of paper, scribbled down an address, and tossed it on the bed: "Tonight at eight, come here. As long as you show up, I'll double the price."

I picked it up and glanced at it. It was in the Silver Ridge District, the wealthy area.

"Only twenty grand?"

"Third time, forty. Fourth time, eighty. Fifth time, one-sixty... Amelia, how many times you can keep up with me depends on you."

That actually sounded pretty good.

I pocketed the note.

Michael watched my compliant manner, his eyes full of mockery, and slammed the door on his way out.

But that evening, I still couldn't make it on time.

Halfway there, my heart hurt so badly I had to crouch by the roadside for a long time before I recovered.

By the time I reached the address, it was almost nine.

I looked up at the familiar villa in front of me, stunned.

This was the Martinez Mansion.

Why did Michael tell me to come here?

I pushed down my doubts, pulled my coat tighter, and rang the doorbell.

No one answered.

I rang several more times, but there was still no movement inside, though I could faintly hear laughter and voices.

I walked around to the side window and looked in through the curtains that weren't fully drawn.

Inside, the heat was on full blast, and crystal chandeliers sparkled.

A huge multi-tiered cake was being wheeled out. My mom, Kenna, was inside, wearing a birthday crown, her face lit up with joy as she hugged Elizabeth. My Dad, Vaughn, stood off to the side, watching them with a warm smile.

And Michael stood next to Elizabeth, his expression gentle, holding a gift.

The four of them looked like a real family.

I was like a wandering ghost who'd stumbled in by mistake, separated by glass, watching everything that used to be mine.

I felt dazed for a moment.

What did he mean by having me come here?

To watch their happiness?

Elizabeth suddenly turned her head. She saw me outside the window.

Then Mom looked in my direction, too.