Chapter 2

Instead of moving, Ethan plonked his butt back down onto the sofa.

He crossed his legs, looking completely shameless.

"Chloe, you really want to burn bridges today, don't you?"

"I’ll tell you the truth. I don't have the money. If you want my life, take it."

"Sure, I make $80,000 a year now, but do you know how high the cost of living is in New York?"

"I have to buy Tiffany designer bags, and I need to save up for a car. How am I supposed to pay you back?"

He spoke with such righteous conviction, as if I were the debtor and he was the victim.

Tiffany chimed in.

"Exactly. We’re getting married soon, and we need money for everything."

"Instead of helping, you’re here badgering us for a debt. Do you even have a conscience?"

My fingers went cold with anger at this bizarre couple.

"So, you’re not going to pay?"

I pulled out my phone and dialed the building's security.

"Hi, security? I have two trespassers in my apartment who refuse to leave. Please send someone up to remove them."

Hearing that I was calling security, Ethan’s expression flickered.

But he quickly composed himself.

"Go ahead! Even if you call the cops, I'll say the same thing—I have no money!"

"The local media covered your sponsorship of me back in the day."

"If I post this online and tell everyone that you’re blackmailing and driving your sponsored student to suicide..."

"Let’s see how you’ll face the public!"

He was actually using my past kindness to threaten me.

Looking at this man in a designer suit and a luxury watch, who was spewing absolute trash, I felt like all my years of support had been fed to a venomous snake.

The security guards arrived quickly.

But after Ethan insisted it was a "family dispute" and Tiffany suddenly clutched her stomach, crying in pain, the guards didn't dare to use force.

"Ms. Bennett, this seems to be a family matter. Maybe you should try to talk it out," the guard said helplessly before retreating.

Ethan gave me a smug look.

"Chloe, I suggest you stop wasting your energy."

"Tiffany is pregnant. If she miscarries because of the stress you're causing, can you afford the consequences?"

Tiffany leaned into Ethan’s arms, whimpering about her stomach ache.

I watched their pathetic acting with cold eyes.

Fine.

If you don't want to leave, then don't.

Let’s see what kind of game you can play.

Without another word, I walked back into my master bedroom and locked the door behind me.

That night, the loud blare of the TV echoed from the living room.

Ethan and Tiffany not only stayed, but they also ordered an expensive gourmet seafood delivery. The pungent smell of spices drifted in through the crack of my door.

"Ethan, your sponsor's place is huge," Tiffany’s voice drifted in.

"Of course. It’s a luxury downtown penthouse, 1,800 square feet!"

"Once we get married, this will be our wedding home."

"We'll make her move out. I’ll redecorate the master bedroom. I hate her current style."

Ethan chuckled.

"Don't worry, babe. She's just an old maid. This apartment will be ours sooner or later."

Sitting on my bed, listening to the conversation outside, I quietly opened the recording app on my phone.