Chapter 3

Victor brought me back to his penthouse on the Upper East Side.

I sat in the passenger seat. I stared blankly at the neon lights blurring past the window. My heart felt hollow. Like a bucket with a hole in it.

Why was it always like this?

He didn't love me. But he claimed me.

He was cold and distant. Yet he showed up at my most desperate moment.

My throat felt blocked by something.

"We're here." Victor parked. He came around to open my door.

I knew this place too well.

Every corner held memories of our tangled bodies.

Victor reached for my suitcases. He headed toward the master bedroom.

"Don't bother." I snatched the suitcase back. I walked straight to a guest room. "I'm only staying for ten days. This is fine."

Victor stopped in his tracks. "You can stay as long as you want."

"Ten days." I repeated. I put my luggage in the room. I shut the door.

I sat on the edge of the unfamiliar bed. I stared at my phone.

Ten days until my flight to LA. I'd be leaving this city forever.

The next morning, I went downstairs. Victor was already in the dining room.

He saw me. He pointed to the seat across from him.

I sat down. The butler respectfully served milk and French toast.

"Did you know Chloe is Eleanor's daughter?" I got straight to the point.

Victor set his coffee cup down. His face didn't change. "Just found out."

How convenient. His first love just happened to be my stepmother's daughter. I mocked him in my head.

"Chloe and I went to high school together." Victor's voice was calm. "Years ago, we were in a tech lab. A massive server rack collapsed. She shoved me out of the way. It crushed her leg. It destroyed her ballet career. She's been getting treatment in Europe ever since."

I looked at him. I waited for more.

"She's fragile, Serena." Victor looked at me. A warning flashed in his eyes. "I don't want her getting hurt."

I put my fork down. I let out a soft laugh. "Understood."

I stood up. I walked toward the stairs without looking back. "I'll keep that in mind."

I stayed in the guest room all day.

The butler brought lunch and dinner to my door. I didn't touch a bite.

That night, I lay in the unfamiliar bed. I couldn't sleep.

Every other night, Victor would open the door around 10 PM. Without a word, he would pin me down. He would silence me with burning kisses. He would whisper "Angel" against my ear.

But tonight, the hallway was dead silent.

Of course.

His first love was back. Why would he think of his stand-in?

The next day was Saturday.

At 10 AM, Victor knocked on my door.

"There's a yacht party tonight. You're coming with me." His tone left no room for argument.

"Not interested."

"It wasn't a request, Serena." Victor pushed the door open. He walked in. "I'll be waiting downstairs at seven."

At 7 PM, I put on a blood-red tight dress. I strapped on my heels. I walked down the stairs.

Victor was waiting by the door in a black tuxedo. He looked dangerously handsome.

"Let's go." He offered his arm.

I didn't take it. I followed him coldly to the car.

Half an hour later, we boarded a luxury yacht docked on the Hudson River.

The deck was covered in white rose petals. The champagne tower sparkled under the lights.

This was clearly a carefully planned celebration.

I looked at Victor. I thought he found out something. I thought he wanted to keep me. To surprise me.

But the next second, my blood ran cold.

"Victor!" a crisp voice called out from the crowd.

I turned around. Chloe wore a pure white dress. She fluttered toward Victor like a white butterfly.

She threw herself into his arms. Victor instinctively reached out. He caught her by her slender waist.

Right then, a massive digital display lit up the deck. The bold letters screamed: Welcome Home, Chloe!

I instantly understood.

This wasn't a surprise for me. This wasn't a normal social event.

It was a welcome party. Victor threw it exclusively for Chloe.

I was just a prop he brought along.

I turned to leave. Chloe stopped me.

"Serena, what's wrong? Are you not feeling well?" she asked. Her voice dripped with concern. "I heard you moved out of your house. Is it because of me? I'm so sorry. I didn't know Richard would give me your custom closet."

Her voice was soft and gentle. But it was just loud enough for the people around us to hear.

"It's fine," I replied coldly. "It's just a room."

"But Richard said you even cut ties with him." Tears welled up in Chloe's eyes. "It's all my fault. If I hadn't come back..."

"Chloe," I cut her off. "The reason I cut ties with him has nothing to do with an outsider like you."

Chloe's tears spilled over. She looked pitifully at Victor.

Victor walked over. He shot me a warning glare. He spoke gently to Chloe. "Don't cry. Your eyes will get puffy."

He pulled out a silk handkerchief. He gently wiped her tears. Chloe smiled through her tears. She blinked her wet eyelashes. "Victor, you're so good to me."

I stood on the side. I watched this tender scene.

It felt like someone stabbed me hard in the chest.

I suddenly realized I would never get that kind of tenderness from him.

Luckily, in ten days, I'd be gone forever.

I turned and walked to the bar. I snatched a whiskey from the bartender. I downed half the glass.

The liquor burned my throat. But the pain was nothing compared to the agony twisting in my chest.