CHAPTER 5:Mine

Liam’s eyes might have widened twice as his mind registered her words. Brie clutched tightly onto Liam's arm, visibly shaken.

"You were messing around with your husband's brother? Even if you want to get back at us for hurting you, isn’t this a little too shameless?" Brie asked.

Monica laughed softly. She knew nothing could ever hurt Liam more than bruising his stupid ego. He hated being compared to anyone—especially Spencer.

But still, as the laugh left her lips, it felt hollow

.

How did we get here? When did love turn into this sick game of revenge?

But if she didn’t hurt him, he’d never understand the weight of what they did to her.

"You know what Spencer did to my grandfather for the inheritance. You wouldn’t scoop so low, Monica." Liam finally lost his cool and pushed Brie away.

Monica maintained her teasing glare. "You could sleep with my sister. Why can’t I have your brother? Aren’t we sharing siblings now?" she asked with an innocent tone.

It was a jab. Sharp. Intentional.

But why did her voice tremble at the end?

"You must be crazy, Monica," Liam thundered. He remembered Spencer was still waiting downstairs. He dashed out of his bedroom and hurried downstairs. Without hesitation, he landed a punch on Spencer’s face.

"Fuck," Spencer cursed, caught off guard. His mind registered the attack, and he began fighting back.

Monica didn’t expect this.

No… she thought Spencer had left. What did she do?

She cringed as Liam’s fist crashed into Spencer’s face. A gut-deep guilt clawed its way up her throat.

"You fucked my wife!" Liam yelled, throwing another punch, but Spencer dodged it and hit back.

Spencer quickly smirked, catching on. He never liked Liam anyway. After their father revealed his infidelity, Liam made it his life’s mission to remind Spencer that he wasn’t wanted. Then came the fire. The accusations. The trial. The stolen jewelry. All the pain he buried.

"Get off me," Spencer growled, shoving Liam aside. He spat out blood and turned his gaze on Monica. She shuddered.

Don’t say anything, she silently begged him.

If you tell him the truth, I’ll lose be broken. They would mock me.

He sat on the couch, wiping his lips slowly.

"Are you crazy, Spencer? You’re about to create a scandal with my wife!" Liam raged.

Spencer smirked and stood, licking the blood from his lip. "She’s your soon-to-be ex-wife. She’s enthralled by me." He clicked his tongue. "Last night, she couldn’t get enough of me."

It was a lie.

But an effective one because Liam's fist clenched.

And for a second, Monica felt heat on her face.

"Stop messing around with my wife," Liam warned.

Spencer’s gaze darkened. "No. You stay away from her. She’s mine now."

He outstretched his hand.

Monica shuddered.

What are you doing?

But something inside her stirred. The fire Liam had smothered with years of cold neglect suddenly sparked.

“So that explains the hickeys on your neck, Monica,” Liam scoffed.

She walked down the stairs slowly. Her eyes never left Spencer.

You can’t mean those words, she told herself.

But her heart betrayed her. It tightened at his words. But she knew Spencer was never that guy.

---

All through the drive to her parents’ house, the echo of his voice haunted her.

She’s mine now.

"Are you okay?"

She jumped in fright, blinking rapidly. She had spaced out completely.

"I’m fine," she lied.

Her heart picked up pace as he slowed down and stopped the car in the middle of nowhere. The silence was deafening.

She turned to face Spencer and immediately looked away as her cheeks burned.

Why does he look at me like I’m important?

Why does that scare me more than Liam’s betrayal ever did?

"I’m sorry," he mumbled.

She turned to him, her throat tightening. I should be the one apologizing, she wanted to say.

"I should be the one apologizing."

"For what?" Spencer asked, raising a brow.

"For dragging you into a mess with Liam," she sighed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer smirked and moved closer. She shrunk back in the car seat. He was dangerously handsome, and she hated how her body reacted to him.

I’m not into flashy men. I’m not supposed to be into men like him.

"No. For not leaving more evidence of last night on your skin," he winked.

She shuddered as he ignited the car again. "My place?"

"NO!" Monica snapped, almost yelling. "Last night was a mistake. I messed things up. If you need my help, I promise… I’ll do anything."

"Anything?" Spencer smirked and turned to her again.

She bit her lip and looked away, flustered.

How does he make everything sound like a sin I’m ready to commit?

Spencer laughed. "Don’t worry. I won’t ask for what you can’t do."

Silence fell. Thick. Suffocating.

She had always been the second choice. Even in her own life. Brie was the golden girl. The favorite. The prize. She was just the girl they forgot at the table. Whatever ever Brie wanted, Brie must get even at the expense of Monica's tears.

She swallowed hard, blinking away the sting in her eyes. I’m not worthless. I’m not weak. I will make them pay.

Spencer finally pulled up in front of her parents’ mansion. She clenched her fists.

This place. This damn place.

Before the wedding, her mother convinced her to transfer all her assets to her—for safekeeping. And like a fool, she believed her.

"You okay here? You can still stay at my place till you figure things out," he offered. His voice was softer now.

She gave him a weak smile. "I’ll be fine. I’m not a broken doll."

She reached for the door, but he gently grabbed her phone and entered his number.

"If you need my help, you don’t have to find me. Just call. I’ll be there," he said.

She nodded, collecting her boxes. As she stepped away, she cast a final glance at his car.

God, I hope I never see him again.

But her chest tightened.

Because a deeper part of her—a part still foolish and aching—but she didn't know why.

As she stepped out of the car and walked up the stairs of her childhood home, dread coiled in her stomach.

The perfectly trimmed lilies. The heavy oak doors. The cold floor.

None of it felt like home.

Her mother would be waiting behind those doors—flawless as always with her judgemental eyes.

Her father? Probably at work, pretending nothing was wrong. Just like always.

They’d ask about Liam. About the marriage that was supposed to be perfect. she imagined the look on their face when they realized how Brie messed things up.

They wouldn't ask if she was okay. Not really.

Monica exhaled shakily and stepped on the front porch, each step heavier than the last.

She cast one last glance back at Spencer’s car before reaching the door.