Chapter 4

"Her husband marries another woman and has a baby with her, and instead of raising hell, she comes over and cooks for them herself."

"What husband? Miles never even married her. At best she's the mistress he keeps on the side."

"Now that Miles has a real wife, she'll be thrown out sooner or later!"

I'd heard all of it too many times to count.

I rinsed my hands and dropped the sliced ginger into the pot.

In my head, I quietly counted down the days until I could leave.

I was so lost in it that I didn't notice someone tap me on the shoulder from behind.

It was Miles's secretary.

He took my hands and dunked them into the bucket of alcohol beside me.

Then he handed me a black mask and explained in a flat voice.

"Madam says she's a germaphobe. Women like you are filthy, so from now on you need to disinfect yourself from head to toe before you set foot in the Farley house."

"Madam also says the sight of your face turns her stomach so badly she can't eat, so you're to keep the mask on whenever you're around her."

"And once the fish soup is done, go home."

"Tonight is a Farley family dinner. You're not fit to sit at the table."

The same childish games again.

Tricks like these had long since stopped surprising me.

Not long ago, Emma had made me kneel and wash her feet.

A mask was nothing compared to that.

Either way, as long as I got paid, it didn't matter.

I nodded obediently.

I put on the mask and kept cooking the fish soup.

Emma had a picky palate, complaining it was too hot one minute, too fishy the next.

I had to remake the same bowl of soup again and again.

She ran me ragged until my hands were covered in blood blisters.

Only then was she satisfied enough to let me go.

The old estate was remote, and by the time I got back to the hillside villa it was nearly dawn.

My body still hadn't fully recovered from the miscarriage.

I lay in pain for half the night before drifting into a hazy sleep.

I'd barely fallen asleep when a sharp pain shot through my wrist.

Miles stood beside the bed, his face dark with fury.

He yanked me upright by the arm.

"What did you put in the fish soup?"

"Emma drank the soup you made and her stomach hasn't stopped hurting."

Groggy and confused, I mumbled.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!"

Miles stared at me, then let out a cold, contemptuous laugh.

"Drop the act. Don't think I don't know exactly what kind of woman you are."

"You're just like those sluts who drove my mother to her death. For money, to climb your way up, there's no shameless thing you wouldn't do!"

"You failed at using a baby to climb higher, so now you want to hurt the child in Emma's belly?"

His grip tightened painfully around my wrist.

My unhealed belly seized with a wave of pain.

I shoved Miles away on instinct and shouted.

"Miles, have you lost your mind? What does Emma's stomachache have to do with me?"

"She's the one who hurt my child first. Even if something really did happen to her, that's her own comeuppance!"

The words had barely left my mouth when a slap crashed across my face.

Miles closed his hand around my throat, a vicious light in his eyes.

"Maggie, who gave you the nerve to slander Emma!"

"Who do you think you are, daring to compare yourself to her?"

"Emma comes from a good family, pure and honest."

"And you? You're a dog I pay to keep, a whore anyone can have for the right price."

"When I'm pleased, I humor you. When I'm not, I can wipe you off the earth in a heartbeat!"

With that, Miles ripped my nightgown open.

He was about to go any further when his phone rang.

Whatever was said on the other end, I couldn't hear.

The fury on Miles's face gave way to worry in an instant, and he hurried toward the door.

When he reached it, he turned back and looked at me.

"You'd better pray that Emma and the baby are fine."

"Because if they're not, I will never let this go!"

With that, Miles slammed the door and was gone.

The room fell silent again.

A thick, metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

I sat on the bed, staring at my wrists, already mottled with purple and blue bruises.

And then, despite everything, my tears started falling.

Look at him. This was the man I'd loved with my whole heart for ten years.

I forced myself to steady my breathing.

But Emma deliberately sent me photo after photo.

In them, Miles kept vigil at her bedside, his eyes brimming with tenderness.

Emma sent them with obvious satisfaction.

"Maggie, you've lost again."

"Take my advice and leave the Farleys quietly, or I've got a thousand ways to throw you out!"

The old me would have saved every single photo.

Then, when Miles was in a good mood, I'd show them to him and use them to squeeze out another compensation payment for my little nest egg.

But this time, I did nothing.

I pressed a hand to my numb, throbbing cheek.

I placed the black card Miles had given me beside the suicide note I'd prepared long ago, right in the most conspicuous spot in the living room.

Then I walked to the harbor, alone.

The lights and scenery of Manhattan slowly faded behind me.

Not long after, Miles, still at the hospital, turned his phone back on and saw the headline flashing across the trending page.

"Ten years apart, two Farley wives take their own lives for love, one after the other."

"Behind this elite family's tortured romance, what secret can't be told?"