Chapter 3

I looked at Mark, his face glowing with self-satisfaction, and felt a strange sense of calm settle over me. The initial shock was gone, replaced by a cold, clear anger.

"Let me be very clear, Mark," I said, my voice low and even. "I am not here for you. I am here to finalize a deal with Hayes Corporation. My fiancé's company."

I let the word 'fiancé' hang in the air between us.

His smug expression faltered for a fraction of a second, but he recovered quickly, a cruel laugh escaping his lips.

"Fiancé? You? Don't make me laugh, Sarah. Who would want someone like you? Someone so... used. Did you find some old rich guy who doesn't know your past?"

The words were ugly, designed to cut deep. I remembered a time they would have destroyed me, sent me spiraling into shame and self-loathing. But that was a different lifetime.

"You're pathetic," he continued, his voice dripping with venom. "You come here, parading around some fake fiancé, trying to make me jealous. It's sad. You threw away the best thing that ever happened to you because you couldn't handle a little competition. I gave you everything."

"You gave me everything?" I repeated, disbelief coloring my tone. "You mean the lies? The debt? Or the three days of hell that turned into an eternity? Which gift are you referring to?"

He flinched, his eyes darting around to see if anyone had overheard.

"Don't you dare bring that up," he snarled, grabbing my arm. His grip was painfully tight. "That was your fault. If you had just been more understanding about Chloe, none of that would have happened. I was going to come back for you."

"You were at a party, Mark," I said, my voice shaking with rage now. "You were laughing. You called me a headstrong bitch who needed to be 'broken in'. I heard you."

His face went pale. He had no idea I had been there, that I had heard his true feelings with my own ears.

"You're lying."

"Am I?"

Before he could respond, a soft, whimpering sound came from behind him.

"Mark? What's going on? She's upsetting you."

Chloe Peterson appeared at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm. Her eyes, wide and innocent, were fixed on me with a look of pure loathing.

She stumbled forward, her other hand flying to her forehead as if she were about to faint.

"Oh!" she cried, collapsing against Mark. "I think... I think she pushed me. My ankle..."

It was a ridiculous, theatrical performance. I hadn't moved a muscle. But Mark didn't see that. He only saw his delicate flower, seemingly under attack.

He spun around, his arms wrapping protectively around Chloe, cradling her as if she were made of glass.

"Chloe! Are you okay? What did she do to you?" he demanded, glaring at me over her shoulder. His face was a mask of fury.

"I... I don't know," Chloe sobbed into his chest. "I just came over to see if you were alright, and she... she looked so angry. She said terrible things about us, Mark. Then she shoved me."

"You lying bitch!" The words exploded from my mouth before I could stop them.

Mark's head snapped up. In two strides, he was in front of me. His hand shot out and connected with my cheek.

The slap was loud in the relative quiet of the corner. The force of it snapped my head to the side, and a sharp, stinging pain erupted on my skin. The shock was so profound it stole my breath.

"Don't you ever speak to her like that again," he seethed, his face inches from mine, his breath hot with anger.

He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. His eyes were wild with a rage I hadn't seen since the day he'd had his men drag me from our home.

"Listen to me, you worthless piece of trash," he spat, his voice a venomous whisper. "Chloe is pregnant. She's carrying my child. If you do anything, say anything, to upset her, I will personally drag you back to that hellhole myself and make sure you never get out. Do you understand me?"

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