Chapter 3

I didn't sleep a wink that night.

The next morning, I decided to confront Blake face-to-face.

I went to Grayson Group, posing as a job applicant. The receptionist was very friendly and escorted me upstairs.

The moment the office doors opened, I froze. Floor-to-ceiling windows, sofas made of genuine leather, artwork hanging on the walls.

Was this really the same place as the shabby room he'd shown me on our video calls?

A picture frame sat on the desk. Blake had his arms wrapped around Ivy as they kissed beneath a sky filled with fireworks.

"That's Mr. and Mrs. Grayson. They're the perfect couple," the receptionist said with a smile. "That spectacular fireworks display that lit up the whole city? Mr. Grayson arranged it for his wife."

My mind went blank.

The fireworks lasted three days and three nights. The entire city had been talking about it.

It happened on our third anniversary.

I'd secretly flown home to surprise Blake, only to get into a car accident on the way. I hadn't told him because I didn't want him to worry. Instead, I just spent two weeks lying in a hospital bed.

While I was suffering in pain, he was holding another woman in his arms, watching fireworks light up the sky.

The office door opened.

Blake walked in wearing a bespoke suit, covered in designer labels. He saw me, then noticed the photograph in my hand, and frowned.

He walked over to the sofa, sat down, and lit a cigarette. "We had a fight that day. I was in a bad mood, and Ivy came to comfort me. We drank too much and ended up sleeping together. Then, she got pregnant. I couldn't just abandon her."

He looked up at me, his tone remarkably calm. "Honestly, my family chose you from the beginning. You weren't after my money or status, and you genuinely cared about me. You were the right choice. But Ivy got pregnant, so I had to take responsibility."

The right choice.

The pain from my nails digging into my palms kept my mind clear.

I stepped in front of him, my voice trembling. "So all these years were just some kind of test for me? What was everything I sacrificed for you for? What am I to you? Am I the other woman in this relationship?"

Blake frowned, stubbed out his cigarette, and stood up to grip my shoulders. "Calm down, Claire. I may not be able to give you the title of Mrs. Grayson, but you're still the one I love."

He took out a black card from his pocket and held it to me. "There's no limit on it. Consider it compensation. I'll buy you a sports car or even a mansion. Just be good and stay by my side, okay?"

As he spoke, his eyes held a mix of condescension and tenderness.

I stared at the card. I remembered how he'd once dragged me from one end of the street to the other just to save two dollars on the bus fare.

I remembered the dingy motels we'd stayed in, where the rooms cost barely thirty dollars a night and rats scurried across the floor.

I remembered him holding me close and promising, "One day, I'll give you the nicest home in the world."

Now, he stood in front of me, holding out a card as if he could buy my very self.

I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face.

"You're despicable."

Tears streamed down my face.

"Was it fun playing with my feelings? Was it fun watching me work overtime until dawn, or wear my clothes until they faded because I couldn't throw them away, just to help you save money? Do you feel some kind of sick satisfaction? Did it make you feel good?

"Blake Grayson, we're done!"