Chapter 3

The real breaking point came a week later.

Tyler—the golden boy who had just received $8,000 from Austin—got into deep trouble.

He didn't have a new girlfriend. He had developed a severe gambling addiction and owed loan sharks $50,000.

The debt collectors called my number. Their voices were vicious, threatening to break Tyler’s legs if the money wasn’t paid.

My mother sobbed hysterically on the phone, barely able to form sentences. She kept repeating one thing:

"Chloe, he’s your only brother! You can’t just watch him die!"

My brain buzzed. My first instinct was to call the police.

But before I could speak, Austin snatched my phone away again.

He asked for the details, and then, with terrifying calmness, he told my mother:

"Mom, don’t panic. We’ll figure out a way to get the money. You and Dad stay safe, and make sure Tyler doesn't run off anywhere."

After hanging up, he looked at my pale face, his expression grave and determined.

"Chloe, this is serious. We have to resolve this immediately."

I nodded numbly. "Let's call the cops."

"No!" he immediately objected.

"If we call the police, Tyler’s life is over! He’ll have a record. It will ruin his future career and life. Besides, dealing with loan sharks is dangerous. If the police get involved, those thugs might do something desperate to Tyler."

I stared at him, feeling like I was looking at a complete stranger.

"Then what do you suggest? Fifty thousand dollars? Where are we going to get fifty thousand dollars?"

Austin was silent for a moment. Then he looked into my eyes and said, "We can sell your condo."

At that moment, my blood ran cold.

That cozy, one-bedroom condo was purchased with my own savings before we married. I worked multiple jobs to afford the down payment. The title had only my name on it.

It was my only anchor in this city, the only safe shell I had built for myself after escaping my toxic family.

And now, he wanted me to sell my shell to save the brother who had drained me for years.

"If we sell my condo, where do we live?" My voice trembled.

"We can rent a place first. Once this blows over, we’ll work hard and buy another one soon."

Austin grabbed my shoulders, trying to look reassuring. "Chloe, I know this is hard, but a life is on the line! What’s more important, money or your brother’s life?"

There it was. The moral blackmail.

He was always right, always noble.

Looking into his earnest, anxious eyes—the eyes of the man I had loved for five years—something inside me shattered completely.

For years, I thought I had married for love, married a man who would protect me from the storm.

I thought his advice to "reconcile" with my family was out of genuine care for me.

Only now did I realize the truth.

His version of "reconciliation" was to break my bones, drink my blood, and use my life to fill my family's bottomless pit, all to build his own reputation as a savior.

I was nothing but a tool for his self-righteous delusion.

My pain, my grievances, my struggles—he didn't care about any of them.

After the intense chill, a wave of unprecedented calm washed over me.

I raised my head, met his gaze, and slowly let out a smile.

"Okay, Austin," I said. "I’ll do what you say. I’ll sell my condo to save Tyler."

He visibly froze, clearly surprised that I had "seen the light" so quickly.

Then, a relieved and touched smile spread across his face. "Chloe, I knew you were the most sensible woman. Don't worry, with me by your side, this family will—"

I cut him off. "But, I have one condition."

"What condition? Tell me."

My smile grew wider, as innocent as a child's.

"Before we sell the condo, I want to help you make peace with your family. A deep, soul-clearing reconciliation."