Chapter 3

After drying my hands, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Ethan.

"Your start date is next Monday. I'll personally drive over to pick you up."

"Perfect. See you then," I replied.

I went to the bedroom and started packing my things.

While clearing out the closet, my hand brushed against something silky. I pulled out a pair of lace panties that didn't belong to me.

They were cheap, sexy, and crumpled into a messy ball.

Like they had been shoved in there in a hurry.

Upon closer inspection, there were dried, questionable white stains on them.

The bedroom door creaked open. Dominic walked in.

Seeing the red rims of my eyes and the underwear in my hand, he didn't even flinch.

He calmly stepped forward and took them from my hand.

"Mike must have brought his Tinder date over during our last party. They probably left it behind."

But as he said it, he casually stuffed the lace panties into his own pocket.

My head was down, and my hands were shaking.

Not from heartbreak. But from sheer disgust.

Dominic clearly misread my reaction. He reached out and patted my head affectionately.

"Hazel, do you know what I love most about you?"

Without waiting for my answer, he whispered, "You're compliant."

Over the last three years, I had heard those words a thousand times.

Compliant, quiet, agreeable.

Like a well-behaved pet, but never like a real human being.

"Chloe is just an intern. Giving her the promotion is my way of mentoring her. Don't overthink it. You're still my fiancée."

He patted my head again, the way one would pat a golden retriever.

It reminded me of when I was looking for a job after college. He had casually offered me a spot on his team, and I had accepted, even though I had much better offers at the time.

And now, because his new toy pouted and begged, I was shoved into a corner.

I was left to be the laughingstock of the office.

Disposable. Like trash.

"Alright, get some rest. Chloe still doesn't know how to run the weekly reports. I need to go over to her place and help her out."

Maybe it was the lingering pain of being pushed aside, or maybe it was the final spark of dignity left in me.

I suddenly grabbed his wrist.

"Can't you stay tonight?" I asked.

Just once. If he stayed, maybe I could pretend he actually cared about me.

Dominic paused, a look of mild annoyance crossing his face.

"I promised her, Hazel."

But he had promised me a thousand times, too.

He promised to go to the hospital with me for my stomach scans. He promised to visit my grandmother's grave with me. He promised to spend my birthday with me.

And he had broken every single one of those promises.

"Oh. Okay."

I let go of his hand. My voice was completely flat.

For some reason, Dominic grabbed my hand back.

He softened his tone. "I'll bring you that tiramisu you love on my way back tomorrow."

But I hated sweets.

With tears threatening to spill from my eyes, I forced another smile. "Thanks."

Dominic didn't come home that night.

The next morning, Chloe updated her Instagram.

It was a simple photo of her hand making a peace sign over a rumpled bed.

I knew instantly she posted it for me.

It was the exact same peace sign she had made when Dominic forced me to pull an all-night shift to fix her mistakes.

I had been locked in the conference room, bent double from stomach pain, while she stood over me, smirked, and made that exact gesture.

A gesture of pure provocation and insult.

"Like a cute little bunny, right?" one coworker commented, referencing her caption.

Others in the comments didn't hold back.

"A night like that is worth millions. Who cares about a bunny?"

"Spill the tea, is Boss Dominic as good in bed as he is at work?"

Chloe replied almost instantly:

"Better. Way better! 😉"

I stared at the screen, completely numb. I opened my browser and booked an appointment at the local clinic.

My stomach had been burning since yesterday. The stress was making my ulcers flare up badly.

By the time I reached the clinic, I was break out in a cold sweat.

The doctor ran some quick tests and gave me a stern look.

"You need to avoid stress and sleep deprivation, Hazel. Your stomach lining is severely inflamed. If you keep this up, you're looking at internal bleeding."

"I understand. Thank you, Doctor."

I took my prescription and walked out to the lobby, only to run straight into Dominic.

He was holding Chloe's hand.

Seeing me, he froze for a fraction of a second, but he didn't let go of her hand.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"My stomach."

Dominic nodded dismissively. He didn't ask how I was, or if it was serious.

Instead, he sighed. "Chloe cut her finger while organizing some files. I brought her in to get it patched up."

His voice was laced with worry, as if Chloe had just survived a major accident.

I looked down at her hand. The cut was so tiny it was barely visible, and it had already clotted.

Chloe sniffled, pretending to be annoyed. "It's all your fault anyway. You kept distracting me while I was trying to work."

Dominic let out a low chuckle, pulling her closer. "Right, right. My bad."

Then, he turned to me. "You should head home first."

I nodded and walked toward the exit.

Before I could reach the door, Chloe's whiny voice echoed behind me.

"Look at how pale she is. What if she has something contagious? Dominic, you should really make her do a full medical checkup."

"She had one last year," Dominic replied.

"Last year is last year! I'm just looking out for your health. Why are you being like this?"

Dominic sighed lazily. "Fine, fine. I'll book her an appointment tomorrow."

He said it so casually, like scheduling a vet visit for a sick cat.

Chapter