Chapter 2

While I turned to leave, Stacy shot a side glance at me. Her smug appearance swiftly shifted to feign guilt and concern.

“I’m sorry, Evelyn. I got carried away with the music and dragged Mr. Watson with me too.”

“If you don't like it, I’ll just get down. Please don't leave because of me.” She added, yet her hands remained wrapped passionately around Enzo’s shoulder.

The moment those words escaped through her lips, Enzo pulled her closer. Making his grab tightening his grip on her waist, he added, “She doesn't know the ‘B’ of Bachata, and I’m so freaking bored of her Salsa.”

He shot a short glance over me, his eyes turning cold. “If she can't even tolerate watching me dance with someone, she can leave.”

“Leave the car and the security here. Go by yourself.” He commanded, “Let's see how daring you are!”

He knew my trauma too well.

My mother was a drug-addicted stripper. But when her customers were getting bored of her, she began forcing me to dance in the bar. The drunkards would try to touch me inappropriately while my mother laughed, counting the money they threw at me, until one night Enzo showed up. He rescued me from my abusive mother but couldn't erase my fear of drunkards and men’s stares.

I was afraid of walking alone at night. So, he never let me. He always stayed by my side, and if there was an emergency, his A-class security would follow me to make me feel comfortable.

Yet, knowing my childhood trauma, he used my vulnerability to make me stay.

But I did not stay. Neither did I beg for his security. I simply turned back and walked out.

However, on my way back home, I felt someone following me. After I reached home, I turned back only to find a dog following me because I had fed him a cookie before. But the trauma had already gotten to me. I was burning with a high fever.

I called Enzo several times. He didn't pick up. Instead, my phone vibrated with a notification. It was Stacy’s social media post.

She had posted a picture kissing Enzo on the dance floor with a caption. [Got carried away and kissed my boss. But he didn't refuse. Instead, he deepened it. Guess he likes it so much.]

I remembered the time I tried to hold his hand in public. He had shoved me off so ruthlessly I almost fell. His response: ‘I don't like public display.’

Yet, he let an assistant kiss him on the very lips I had kissed several times in our bed.

Pulling my thoughts back, I dug out a phone number buried at the very bottom of my contacts.

“You said you’d always keep a spot open for me. Does that still stand?”

Receiving an excited and quick reply, I took some fever medicine and drifted into a groggy sleep.

The next day, I was woken up by a phone call.

“Evelyn Richard, have you lost all your manners? We agreed on a family dinner—you're making our whole family wait for just you?”

My head felt like it was splitting open from the fever. “I have a high fever...”

“Stop making up excuses. Get over here right now; don't make everyone wait on you.”

Dragging my frail body, I made a trip to the Watson estate, only to find Stacy sitting right next to Enzo.

The family wore mixed expressions, and Old Lady Watson in particular glared at me cold-heartedly.

No matter how many times I had explained in the past that I wasn't marrying Enzo for his money, she still insisted I was a freeloading leech.

“Sleeping in until noon—and you still claim you aren't here to live off our money? Who would believe that?”

No one noticed the cold sweat dripping down my face, nor did anyone see my legs trembling from weakness...

And Enzo didn't even stand up to welcome me like he used to.

Suffocated by the rising chorus of accusations, I declared, “Auntie, I'm not marrying Enzo.”

Enzo’s mother’s face froze. Enzo left his seat and walked up to me, his eyes red with fury. “Are you still not done with last night?”

“It was a mistake. Stop throwing tantrums over childish things.”

“My whole family is waiting for a legal heir. Do you think it's time to joke about our wedding that's three days apart?” He barked.

I was the one being mocked, and yet I was the one being blamed. He scolded me endlessly without noticing my discomfort in the slightest.

Just as I was about to snap, Stacy looked at me with a pitiful expression.

“Evelyn, that bracelet on your wrist… did Enzo give it to you last night? It's Nora’s last piece, a designer I adore so much. My father wanted to give me one on my eighteenth birthday, but he just couldn't afford it.”

I instinctively clenched my fist, a sharp prickle catching in my throat. It was something Enzo had given me in our first year of relationship. I always wore it. How could she notice it only now?

But the moment those words escaped her lips, Enzo flashed a master card in my hands and said, “Take as much money as you want and give that bracelet to her.”

“This piece is close to her heart. As for you… you wouldn't even have known the designer’s name.” He added, a smirk suppressed on his lips.

So, it wasn't just his family who looked down on me. He looked down on my poor background, yet for some reason kept me close; perhaps my appearance made him feel like a saviour, a godfather, a pride despite his hearing incapabilities.

“Sure…” I said calmly before unfastening the bracelet from my wrist as I tossed it into Stacy's hands.

I then turned back to look at him. My decisive move left him looking at me in shock as I tossed his master card back into his hands and said, “No need to pay me. It was a worthless piece I was going to dump anyway.”