Chapter 2

Luca said, "Daphne, I won't put you in a tough spot. I'm going to make that money right now. You just worry about calming your husband down."

Alarmed, Daphne immediately ran to lock the door.

For a split second, a spark of hope flared in my chest. Was she doing this because she was afraid of losing me?

She walked quickly toward me. Despite everything, a part of me still hoped she was going to apologize.

But her cold voice cut through the air. "Vance, you're the most malicious, petty man I've ever met. You've been groped by clients before because of your looks. You know what it's like. Are you seriously forcing Luca to go drink with that psycho woman and sell himself just to pay you back?"

Before I could even speak, Daphne ripped the bag right off my shoulder and hurled it into the charcoal grill.

Then, she glared at me with an icy gaze. "Let's see how far you get without your ID."

When she turned to Luca, her expression softened completely. "Luca, we've known each other for so many years. You're closer to me than my own brother. You don't have to pay back a dime.

"Worst-case scenario, we sell the house and car. Go change your clothes. I'll take you out for a nice dinner. The fumes from that burning bag are toxic. We can't eat here."

I rushed over to the grill, trying to fish my bag out, but a massive hole had already burned through it. My ID and the last few hundred dollars in cash I had left were all gone. Even my phone screen was cracked.

Terrified that the battery might explode, I hurried to the kitchen to grab a pair of tongs and fished the phone out. Luckily, the SIM card was still intact.

As Daphne and Luca left, she made a point of turning the deadbolt three times, locking me in.

I couldn't open the door, and my phone was dead.

Daphne did this on purpose.

But had she forgotten that I hadn't eaten either? I had been throwing up all day from being sick, unable to keep anything down.

There wasn't a single snack left in the house because I had been too weak to go grocery shopping lately.

All I could do was lie in bed. My stomach growled with hunger, but I kept throwing up. I didn't even have the strength to make myself a bowl of soup.

Suddenly, the metallic scent of blood hit the air. Realizing something was wrong, I forced myself up with every ounce of strength I had left, only to see Elliot violently vomiting blood.

The doctor's warning flashed through my mind. If he started throwing up blood, he needed emergency resuscitation immediately to survive.

I looked frantically out the window. The lights downstairs were on.

Grabbing a clothesline pole, I hammered desperately against the neighbor's window and screamed for help.

The woman downstairs knew me well and knew I was sick. She yelled back at the top of her lungs, "Vance! Don't panic! I'm calling an ambulance right now, and I'll get management to open your door!"

About ten minutes later, the property management team and the paramedics arrived. The door was finally opened.

I desperately borrowed my neighbor's phone to call Daphne. I didn't have a penny on me, and she had just received an 18,000-dollar bonus.

The call went through quickly, and I gasped out, "Daphne, you need to come back right now. Elliot is throwing up blood. The paramedics say he might need to go straight to the ICU."

On the other end, Luca let out a soft sneer. "Vance, you're playing mind games straight out of a soap opera. Using your son as a pawn just to keep your wife around? And are you seriously lying about your son being sick? Aren't you afraid that'll actually come true?"

Perhaps it was the bond between father and son, but a sharp pain suddenly gripped my throat. I spat out a mouthful of blood, but it actually eased the weight on my chest.

Unable to hold back any longer, I roared into the phone, "Have you no shame? You're hanging around a married woman in the dead of night!"