Chapter 4

Ethan threw me hard to the floor, my ankle throbbing with pain.

Susan climbed off the sofa, wrapped in Ethan's shirt, and ran over with red eyes to help me up.

"Miranda, are you okay? Ethan didn't mean it. He's just sick and can't control his emotions..."

"Don't touch me!" I violently shook off her hand. Looking at her pretentious face made my stomach churn.

Ethan yanked Susan back into his arms, his eyes sinister and terrifying. "Get out! If I see you acting crazy again, I'll sue you for trespassing!"

I braced myself against the cold floor and stood up.

Looking at this husband who, for the sake of another woman, wouldn't even spare me a glance, I suddenly felt utterly pathetic.

I didn't argue anymore. I limped out that door.

For the next few days, I felt like my soul had been drained. I suffered through sleepless nights.

I kept telling myself, Ethan was just sick. He didn't mean it.

Once he recovered his memory, he would definitely love me like before.

Just as I was about to break down completely, my mother's call suddenly came through.

As soon as I answered, her hysterical crying voice came through. "Miranda, save your brother! Jason was arrested by the police!"

My head buzzed.

"Mom, don't panic. What happened to Jason?"

My brother Jason had just started his senior year of college. Though he was usually a bit wild, he'd never caused trouble this serious.

"He got into a fight tonight and cracked someone's head open! The other family won't let it go. They say they'll make sure he rots in prison! Miranda, find a way to reach Ethan. He knows people. He can definitely get your brother out!"

Hearing my mother's tearful pleading, I broke out in a cold sweat.

But Ethan wouldn't even see me now. He'd even blocked me. How could he possibly help?

"Ethan has been... sick recently. I can't reach him. Let me go to the police station first to check the situation."

"What illness could be more serious than your brother going to prison! Miranda, Jason is your own brother. Even if you have to beg on your knees, get Ethan to help!"

My mother's words were desperate on the phone. "If you don't save your brother, I'll die right in front of you!"

She hung up violently.

I clutched my phone, anxious as an ant on a hot pan.

The other family was causing a scene at the police station, absolutely refusing mediation.

I had no options.

With nowhere else to turn, I could only use another backup number to dial Ethan's phone.

This was, after all, the first time in our five years of marriage that I'd asked him for help.

The phone rang for a long time.

Just as I was about to hang up in despair, it finally connected.

"Hello?"

However, the person who answered wasn't Ethan.

It was Susan.

Her voice was soft and sweet, with a trace of ambiguous hoarseness, accompanied by a series of soft, sticky sounds.

"Susan, give me the phone..."

Ethan's low, husky voice came through the receiver, carrying the intimate indulgence I knew all too well.

"Ethan, hurry up..." Susan complained coquettishly, followed by the sound of kissing and the violent shaking of a mattress.

My brain went blank. All the blood in my body froze in that moment.

The crisp sound of plastic packaging being torn echoed through the silent night, amplified clearly in my ear through the receiver.

I abruptly hung up.

A wave of physiological nausea surged up from my stomach.

I covered my mouth and rushed into the bathroom like a madwoman.

Hunched over the toilet, I nearly vomited up bile.

The husband I'd loved for five years was currently rolling around in bed with another woman.

He'd forgotten me.

But he hadn't forgotten how to flirt with other women.

So his so-called amnesia was just a disgusting cover for his blatant affair!

I sat paralyzed on the cold bathroom floor, my fingers gripping my phone turning white at the knuckles.

I desperately scrolled through my contacts, trying to find someone who could help bail out my brother.

Suddenly, my eyes fixed on a profile with a pure black avatar.

The name displayed: Hunter Shaw.

He was the biggest investor in Ethan's company, supposedly the all-powerful, ruthlessly effective heir of the Shaw family.

Five years ago, at Ethan's annual party, I'd added him on social media. We'd never exchanged a single word since.

I stared at that black avatar, bit my lip, and sent a message.

"Mr. Shaw, sorry to disturb you so late. I'm Miranda. My brother got into trouble. Could I ask for your help?"

As soon as I sent the message, I regretted it.

How could someone like Hunter, a big shot so powerful that even Ethan had to bow and scrape before him, possibly bother with an insignificant woman like me?

Just as I was about to retract the message, my phone screen suddenly lit up.

Not only had Hunter not deleted me.

He'd replied instantly.

On the screen, just one word:

"Address."