Chapter 3

A red handprint appeared across Serena's pale cheek.

She barely reacted.

Jason lost his mind.

"Adrian!"

He snatched a cup of coffee from a nearby table and hurled it at me.

I threw up an arm to shield my face.

The scalding liquid drenched my forearm.

Pain exploded across my skin.

I went white.

Jason was shaking with rage.

"You can hit me if you want!

"But how dare you hit my fiancée?

"Who do you think you are?"

Employees rushed forward.

"Oh my God. Look what he pushed Jason into doing."

"He deserved it. He's the one who hit Serena."

"If I were her, I would've called the police already."

My whole body trembled from the burn.

I stared at Jason.

"That was assault.

"I'm calling the police."

For a fraction of a second, his expression changed.

Then Serena took hold of my hand.

She looked at the burn and frowned.

"Enough.

"Come to my office. We'll treat your arm."

I ripped my hand away.

"Don't touch me."

Her face hardened.

"Adrian, do you really have to make this worse?"

I laughed in disbelief.

"I'm making this worse?

"I'm the one who got punched.

"I'm the one who had boiling coffee thrown on me.

"Or is this just like five years ago, Serena?

"Facts don't matter as long as Jason is involved?"

Her breathing caught.

After a pause, she lowered her voice.

"If you call the police now, the only thing you'll accomplish is humiliating yourself.

"Treat the burn first. Don't let it scar."

I ignored her and called anyway.

The police arrived about twenty minutes later.

The officer in charge walked in, saw Serena, and immediately put on a fawning smile.

"Ms. Hart. Didn't expect to see you here."

He sounded more like a guest than an investigator. His name tape read Kessler.

My stomach sank.

Paige stepped forward.

"I'm sorry, but our security cameras stopped working last month. We haven't had them repaired yet."

Employees began speaking over one another.

"He hit Serena first."

"And he's been harassing her."

"He came here looking for trouble."

Every voice supported Jason.

Not one supported me.

Five years had passed.

Nothing had changed.

Powerful people still had others willing to bend the truth for them.

Kessler frowned at me.

"Sir, you'll need to come with us."

I stared at him.

"I'm the injured one.

"You're taking me instead of him?"

His patience disappeared.

"Cooperate, or we'll restrain you."

Serena leaned close enough that only I could hear.

"Adrian, you've always been arrogant and overbearing.

"Maybe it's time you learned a lesson."

I looked at her cold face.

For a second, I remembered back in college and asking why she wanted to study law.

"To stand up for justice," she'd said.

"To uphold justice and restore fairness to the world."

Back then, I'd thought she was glowing.

Now she had trampled the law again and again for Jason.

And trampled me along with it.

The Serena Hart I once loved felt like a dream from adolescence.

A dream I'd finally woken from, leaving nothing behind.

I was taken into custody.

My phone was confiscated.

"Can you contact my wife?"

The officer behind the desk didn't look up.

"Not right now. Maybe tomorrow."

I was pushed into a holding cell.

Several men were already inside.

The moment I entered, they exchanged looks.

One bald man grinned.

"So this is the guy who tried to steal someone else's fiancée?"

He picked up a bucket of cold water and dumped it across my bunk.

"You can sleep there."

The others laughed.

"Thought you were tough."

"Not so tough when the bed's wet, huh?"

"Should've thought of that before hitting another man's fiancée."

I understood.

This wasn't random.

Jason had arranged it.

No one let me sleep that night.

Whenever I closed my eyes, someone kicked the bunk.

Trash was thrown at me.

Near dawn, someone poured water over my face.

I curled on the freezing mattress.

The cuts on my face throbbed.

My burned arm felt like fire.

And my mind grew clearer with every passing hour.

Five years ago, they killed my mother.

Destroyed my father.

And now they still weren't finished.

The next morning, I was finally released.

I felt hollowed out.

A staff member handed back my phone.

"Ms. Hart was kind enough not to press charges.

"You can leave.

"Try not to cause trouble again."

I said nothing.

I turned the phone on.

Hundreds of notifications flooded the screen.

Yesterday's scene had gone viral.

The video had clearly been edited.

Only my slap remained.

Along with footage of Jason crying.

The comments were vicious.

"What's wrong with this guy?"

"Apparently he used to be obsessed with her."

"Poor Jason."

"Why doesn't this homewrecker disappear?"

Then I saw that people had dug up my personal information.

Someone had even found the address of the old neighborhood where my grandmother lived.

My breathing stopped.

A video appeared on my feed.

My grandmother, almost eighty, stood outside the local market surrounded by reporters.

Microphones and cameras were shoved toward her face.

"Is your grandson involved with an engaged woman?"

"Does he have mental problems?"

"Is it true he used to chase other people's girlfriends in college?"

She stood there lost and frightened.

Still clutching the corn and ribs she had just bought.

Before leaving home the previous morning, I'd called her.

I told her I would visit after my appointment.

And that I wanted her corn-and-rib soup.