Chapter 2

Betty’s POV

Crystal glasses and golden chandeliers glistened throughout the ballroom. This was a place I had never been before. Everyone appeared to have stepped out of high-end magazines. I tried to breathe and tell myself that I was invited here, and that I belonged. However, on the inside, I felt like a shadow that nobody wanted to see.

She approached me at that point. Vivienne. Her lips curled into a ruthless smile, and her robe was made of blood-red silk. She examined me from head to toe as though I were a discoloration on her shoes.

"Well, well!" she said it loud enough for visitors in the vicinity to hear. The charity case, if it's not tiny Betty. Did you enter covertly from the rear entrance? Or were you mistaken for the help?

My cheeks began to get hot. My glass shook in my trembling hands. I desired to merge with the floor.

"I..I was invited." My voice cracked as I spoke.

Vivienne gave a scathing laugh.

"Invited? Who did it? Don't tell me that Larry gave you access. Darling, you're not even in the same league. This is not a sympathy party; it's a gala.”

Those around him laughed. Like knives, the sound pierced into me.

I put down my glass and said, "I should go."

“Then run along, she sneered. That's your speciality. Sprinting.” I didn't want her to see me cry, even though tears were burning my eyes. Desperate for oxygen, I turned and pushed through the pack. The sound of her laughter filled my ears, and my chest tightened. Gulping the chilly night air as if it could save my life, I ran through the doors onto the balcony.

I tried to steady myself by holding onto the railing. My heart felt like it had just finished a marathon.

"Betty, are you running away again?" My entire body tensed. That voice seemed familiar to me.

Larry. Slowly, I turned. His eyes were cold and impenetrable as he stood there with a glass in his crisp black suit.

He examined every inch of the wealthy millionaire that everyone was chatting about.

My voice was trembling, but I yelled, "You shouldn't sneak up on people."

He arched an eyebrow. "I wasn't sly. I watched you leave. Would you mind explaining why Vivienne appeared to have recently won a battle? I took a deep breath.

"Because she did." She made me look bad in front of everyone. You were standing there. They laughed, and you heard it.

He clenched his jaw. "You are overly preoccupied with what other people think. Weakness is not forgiven in this world. Either you fight or you lose.“

I balled my hands into fists.

“It's simple for you to say. You came from a wealthy family. You have no idea what it's like to be treated like you're worthless and to struggle for every scrap!” His eyes grew gloomy.

"Don't presume you are familiar with my life. Do you believe that having money makes life easier? Imagine growing up in a home where trust is a joke and affection is nonexistent.”

With fire meeting fire, we looked at one another. Anger surged in my chest, but beneath it was something else. Something hazardous.

"You're cruel," I spat out.

Before I could spell jack, his lips slammed into mine before I could stop him. How could I even stop him...?

It felt like we were both trying to prove something, and the kiss was wild and fierce. I pushed him away, finally, panting.

"What are you doing?" I let out a gasp. With his eyes flaming, he answered roughly,

"What you wanted."

"I didn't—" When he brought me in close one again, my objection died. After pushing at him, my hands betrayed me; instead, I gripped his jacket.

My entire being whirled. How we got there is a mystery to me. My pulse was beating like a drum as I staggered upstairs into his suite after we had just been kissing on the balcony.

"Larry, hold on, we shouldn't." I opened my lips to speak, but his mouth sucked it up. His breath was hot against my skin, his hands were powerful, and his touch was scorching, yet it felt amazing. Every caution cried out for me to flee. However, my body melted beneath him, betraying me. I didn't want to be the helpless, pathetic girl whom everyone made fun of for just one night. I wanted to feel alive for one night. I wanted to be desired, wanted, and have a sense of belonging. Heat, shattered words, and frantic touches filled the room.

The last of my defence was broken as he mumbled, "Betty," on my neck. I fell. It was careless. It was risky. And it turned out to be my best mistake in life.

The Following Morning, the room was filled with sunlight. With my head thumping, I opened my eyes. For a wonderful moment, I believed it to be a dream. I looked back and saw Larry buttoning his shirt, his face as icy as ice.

"Good morning," I said as I wrapped the sheet about myself, shyly yet excitedly like a schoolgirl. He avoided looking at me. He placed something on the nightstand instead. A wad of cash.

I felt sick to my stomach.

"What is that, exactly?"

His eyes were harsh when he finally looked up at me. "Payment. Did you not want that? Did you come here with the intention of making money? At least you deserve it now. The words broke my heart.

"You think I'm some cheap slut?” My voice broke.

He shrugged.

"Aren't you? Women just like you do that. It's quite obvious.”

My vision was blurred with tears. My entire body trembled as I gripped the sheet more tightly..." I didn't ask for this. I didn't request you...to..." my words betray me. I tried to speak while searching into his empty eyes.

"Then go," he answered icily. "The door is open."

I put on my dress to leave, feeling embarrassed at every step. As I grabbed for the handle, my hands shook.

"Goodbye, Larry," I said, using the last ounce of my dignity, and left. In a barely audible whisper. Before he could witness my tears, I left hurriedly.

After that dreadful evening, time became hazy. I plunged myself into my job, in an effort to forget about him, or so I thought. Four weeks had passed, but the ugly memories were gone.

My body began to turn on me, too. First came the nausea. I assumed it was stress. Then the lightheartedness. Then the cycle that was missed. I hoped the world would be fair just this one time. I can barely survive a day in this world; imagine raising another person in it.

Later that night, I shut myself in a restroom at home, and I held a small white stick in my trembling hands. The lines came when I looked. Unambiguous. It's an obvious double line. I was struck with a surge of fear. My knees almost gave out. I put a hand to my tummy, and whispered, "No… no, this can't be real."

The door creaked open before I could catch my breath.

A voice called, "Betty?"

With the test still in my hand, I froze.