Chapter 2

Geri's voice sounded like a hiss from hell, sending a chill through Alistair's body. He wanted to run.

The next second, that ice-cold voice rang out right by his ear. "Are you deaf? Can't you hear me talking to you?"

Her breath was hot against his skin, like the whisper of a demon wrapping around him.

Alistair's heart clenched in pain. The accident in prison that had blown out his left eardrum… It really had been her doing.

Noticing the tremor that ran through him, Geri's voice turned almost syrupy. "What are you shaking for? You see an old classmate, and you don't even say hello? I'm the one who got you this job. Aren't you going to thank me?"

What?

Alistair's lips parted as a wave of panic crashed over him. He'd thought that if he kept his head down, worked hard to reduce his sentence and earn an early release, then found a job at some no-name club and lived as quietly as possible, he could slip right past Geri's radar.

In the end, the moment he stepped past the prison gates, he'd already taken the bait she'd laid out for him.

He lifted his head, his eyes filled with horror. After three years apart, Geri had shed her youthful softness. She was more elegant, beautiful, mature, and proud now. She was like a rose—gorgeous, but all thorns.

As for him…

Alistair stared at the woman he had once loved. "Geri, I already did three years in prison, just like you wanted. Let me go."

He had lost his father, spent three years behind bars, and gone deaf in one ear. Even if he really had been guilty, wasn't that enough punishment?

Geri acted like she hadn't heard his plea. Leaning lazily against Jonah's shoulder, she glanced at Alistair with malice in her eyes. "I kindly set you up with a job, and somehow that's become a burden for you. How about you stop with the toilet scrubbing? Why don't you go work in the host department as a gigolo instead?"

Alistair's lips moved, but not a single sound came out.

"What's wrong? You don't want to?"

No. He absolutely did not.

Alistair suddenly spun on his heel and yelled, "I quit! I'm resigning!"

He bolted for the door, only to have two men in black suits step in front of him, blocking his way. He didn't dare imagine what Geri would do to him if he stayed there.

To his surprise, he heard her say, "Let him go."

It felt like a royal pardon. Just before he stepped out, he clearly heard Geri's soft murmur behind him. "Don't regret stepping out that door."

Alistair's stride didn't falter. As long as he could get away from her, he could always find another job.

But even without Geri's interference, it was almost impossible for him to find work. He spent almost half a month doing odd jobs, lowering his standards again and again, until he finally got hired at a construction site hauling building scraps.

The foreman, a greasy man with a thuggish swagger, jabbed a thumb at the pile. "All this scrap is gonna be sold, punk. Don't you go breaking any of it. You break it, you pay for it. Wages are paid daily. Once you're done moving everything, you come find me. We'll weigh it, and I'll pay you."

The scrap pieces were big and heavy. Even though Alistair had gotten used to hard labor in prison, he still had to make countless trips back and forth.

The pile he was responsible for was stacked neatly and securely on the transport truck. By the time he finally finished, his clothes were soaked with sweat. He called the foreman over to weigh the load, only to see that the once-intact scrap had shattered into pieces.

"What the hell, punk? You went and smashed a whole truckload of scrap?" the foreman roared. "Do you have any idea how much money you just cost me?"

He kicked Alistair hard and loomed over him, his face twisted with rage. "Damn convict. I never should've hired you. Pay up!"

No. How could this be happening?

Alistair's body went rigid. He had no idea why the scrap that had been perfectly fine had suddenly broken, or how he was supposed to deal with the foreman's fury.

Just then, a graceful figure walked over and tossed a wad of cash at the foreman. "That's a hundred grand. Get lost."

The foreman scooped up the money at once, his anger vanishing as a grin spread across his face. He walked away without saying another word.

Alistair sat collapsed on the ground, staring blankly up at Geri as he sank into despair. "You did this."

It seemed that she still had no intention of letting him go.

Geri crouched, her fine brows lifting as a wicked smile curved her lips. "Silly Ali. I don't have that much time to burn. The foreman broke the scrap on purpose so he could scam you."

Silly Ali. This nickname…

Back in high school, Geri used to flick Alistair's nose and tease, "Silly Ali, if you keep helping those other girls carry their desks, I, your girlfriend, am gonna get jealous."

Back then, he'd had a sunny disposition. "Got it, my princess. I won't do anything outside what you tell me to do anymore, okay?"

Later, after the incident, when he was locked in the equipment room getting beaten up, she'd spoken in that same lazy, affectionate tone. "Silly Ali. Do you like the hell I personally prepared for you? The law can't punish you, so I will."

Alistair's mind snapped back to the present.

Geri remarked, "See? Other than me, no one's willing to even let you put food on the table."

Her tone dripped with condescension, a stark contrast to the way he was falling apart. "Go back to the club. Since you like scrubbing toilets so much, you can continue doing that. Don't even think about running. You know what I'm capable of."

With that, she straightened up and sauntered off, her steps light and unhurried.

Alistair stared at her proud, solitary back and suddenly let out a bitter laugh. He laughed and laughed until his face twisted, and he doubled over and hacked up a mouthful of blood.

The blood and his tears blurred together.

He tilted his head back and gave a broken, mirthless smile. Of course he knew what Geri was capable of. Yet, despite being so impressive, how was it that she still hadn't figured out that he was dying?