Chapter 3

In the end, I took a local bus back to the city.

The bumpy ride made my stomach cramp until I threw up. I forced myself onto a train, feeling half-dead by the time I made it home.

The mansion was pitch black. Too exhausted to flip the switch, I fumbled my way toward the bedroom in the dark.

"Learned your lesson yet?"

Marcus's voice cut through the silence. He was hiding in the shadows, scaring me so badly I jumped.

Stopping in my tracks, I took a deep breath before whispering:

"Yes."

"Marcus, I don't want to go to school anymore. Just give me money instead. Not much. Just one million dollars."

I was telling the truth.

One million dollars was just pocket change to men like him—the cost of a few lavish dinners.

But Marcus chuckled, leaning back on the sofa carelessly.

"Suddenly, I don't feel like giving it to you."

"Why?" My voice sounded like a dying ember.

"No reason."

He spoke with the arrogance of a man who ruled the world.

Marcus was always impossible to read.

He was willing to pay off my three-million-dollar debt, yet he begrudged me a single million.

He clearly didn't love me, yet he refused to let me go.

At that thought, a surge of anger flared up inside me. I spat back:

"Did Carter Enterprises go bankrupt? Or are you just like those cheap, married old men who count every single penny they spend on their mistresses?"

Marcus stood up and closed the distance. The suffocating scent of expensive tobacco invaded my senses.

"Chloe, sometimes I really want to strip away every single one of your thorns."

His fingers traced slowly along my skin, sending a chill straight down my spine.

Then, he suddenly pulled his hand back, looking almost disappointed.

"But then again, you wouldn't be any fun without them."

He tossed a pile of designer clothes and bags from the sofa over to me, smiling mockingly.

"My wife keeps a tight leash. I can't give you cash, but these little gifts are fine."

"Oh, and she monitors my time, too. I have to go back to her now."

I sneered, unable to resist poking him again:

"She keeps you on such a tight leash, and yet you still can't stay faithful?"

Marcus smirked from the doorway.

"You're just my kept woman. She's my wife. There's no conflict there."

The heavy front door slammed shut. I threw the bags onto the floor in frustration.

Then, remembering their resale value, I swallowed my pride and neatly packed them away.

Looking at the luxury bags, a wave of familiar misery washed over me.

Years ago, I tried to run. But Marcus caught me almost instantly.

After that, I stopped trying, mostly because he wasn't married yet.

My absolute red line was that I would never be the side-chick to a married man.

My mother had been a homewrecker. The legal wife set a trap for her, leaving her penniless and drowning in three million dollars of debt.

I was the one who had to pay for her sins.

Now, I was about to walk down the exact same path.

And I didn't know if I could survive the punishment this time...

The next day, I went to the prep center to pick up my study materials.

Afterward, I went to a luxury consignment shop to sell the clothes and bags Marcus had left me.

But the moment I pulled the bags out, a beautifully dressed woman burst into the store and slapped me hard across the face.

"You shameless little thief! You stole my clothes and bags yesterday, and you're already trying to sell them today?"

The woman who slapped me was Samantha Sterling, Marcus's new bride.

It was as if she had been waiting for me all along.

In that instant, sheer terror seized my heart.

I had no power to fight back. I stood there helplessly as she produced the receipts and called the cops.

The value of the items was high enough to qualify as a felony. She wanted to throw me in prison.

I sat in front of the police officers.

They asked:

"Did you steal these?"

I wanted to deny it.

But if I said no, I would have to tell them I was a mistress, and that Samantha's husband had given them to me.

That would only drag me into a different kind of public humiliation.

Just as the police were pressing me and I was about to speak, Marcus walked in.

Without even glancing at me, he wrapped his arm around Samantha, his voice dripping with smooth charm.

"Who dared to upset you, sweetheart? Why didn't you tell me first?"

Samantha glared at him, pouting.

"Marcus, stop playing dumb."

Marcus shrugged, and only then did he bother to turn his gaze to me.

I had been staring at him, my eyes filled with helplessness and desperation.

Just like ten years ago, when I begged him to save me.

But this time, Marcus didn't save me. Instead, he smiled.

"Pressing charges is such a hassle. Why don't we just lock her up for ten days to let my wife blow off some steam?"

He leaned closer to Samantha, his voice dangerously seductive.

"How does that sound, babe?"

Samantha's face flushed pink.

"Fine, just this once."

From beginning to end, Marcus never said a single word to clear my name.

Instead, he joined hands with his wife to play with me like a toy.

At that exact moment, I knew that if I didn't escape, they would eventually play me to death.