Chapter 5

"Are you sure?" Dominic looked at me, his voice cold, his gaze even colder.

Before I could answer, Celeste stepped in front of me and approached Dominic's car. She cast a pointed glance at my feet, then leaned in and said in a low voice, "If you have complaints, say them in private. With so many people watching, are you trying to put Mr. Chase on the spot?"

"That's not what I meant," I murmured, voice growing smaller. It was hard to say it out loud. "I just don't want to accompany…"

I bit my lip. Was Dominic already bored of me? That quickly?

Men really were heartless.

Celeste wasn't about to let this opportunity pass. Every word from her mouth was designed to drive a wedge between Dominic and me.

"You may not mean it, but this is what you're doing. Don't act out and pressure Mr. Chase with your little tantrums."

"I…"

I was the one being used as a bargaining chip, yet somehow she made me out to be the unreasonable one—selfish and short-sighted.

As I stood there, unsure of what to say, I caught the smug curve of Celeste's lips.

She had always disliked me. And now, with a golden opportunity in front of her, she wasn't hiding her ambition. She was going in for the kill.

We were both women. Why make it harder for each other?

But now, I finally understood. I'd been a fool trying to prove to her that I was different.

She offered herself to Dominic willingly. I was his preference, the one he insisted on keeping around. I thought that made us fundamentally different. But I was wrong.

I just wanted to escape this scene, and with what little pride I had left, I said calmly, "I'm sure."

The moment I turned around, Dominic's words shattered the illusion I'd built for myself.

He said, "So you're done caring about your family?"

I froze. My feet felt like they were chained to the ground.

Right… what about Eric's promotion? What about the debts at home?

Even Celeste sensed my hesitation. She smirked, pushed the contract into my hands, and gave me a light shove forward. "Go on. Mr. Grant is getting impatient."

I glanced sideways and caught a glimpse of myself in the hotel's full glass window—decked out in luxury, every thread on my body, even my underwear, had been prepared by Dominic.

In that moment, I finally understood how Eric must've felt when he handed me over to Dominic.

I was just a slab of meat on the butcher's block—ripe for carving.

If it had only been for Eric, I might've walked away without looking back. But I had an entire family to carry on my shoulders. My pride wasn't strong enough to lift that weight.

The moment I stepped toward that Bentley, my dignity was left behind.

Jasper's driver jogged down to open the car door for me. I climbed in, glancing back one last time.

I'd hoped for some sign of mercy in Dominic's face.

All I saw was his window slowly rising.

Celeste gave me a triumphant smile as she slid into the car.

I had no right to refuse. All I could do was pretend I didn't care about Dominic's coldness or Celeste's disdain.

When Jasper saw me enter, his broad hand immediately landed on my thigh. I shrank away in disgust, turning toward the window.

He leaned closer, gripping my slender shoulders in both hands. His voice was sickeningly sweet. "Ms. Monroe, have you ever been to Southport?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Perfect. I'm free for the next few days. I could give you a tour around the city," he said, pressing closer, inhaling near my hair. His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "You smell amazing."

Disgust welled up in my throat.

I slapped a hand over my mouth, swallowing back the rising bile.

He seemed to mistake my restraint for shyness and grinned wider. His lewd murmurs in my ear made my skin crawl. I wanted to slap him.

But I knew—I couldn't.

Still, the thought of what might happen next made my whole body tense with dread. My fingertips dug into my thighs. My nose stung, and I felt tears threaten to spill.

I sniffed and forced them down.

The car soon stopped at the hotel entrance. I followed Jasper inside, each step heavy as lead.

Every stride through the grand lobby was mine to take, but not one of them was taken by choice.

Unbeknownst to me, a black car pulled up just behind ours and parked outside the hotel.

We were just about to enter the elevator when a gentle, elegant voice called out behind us, "Jasper?"

Jasper froze.

I stopped as well.

Even before seeing her, the tone told me everything—this was a poised, gracious woman.

I turned and saw Jasper's face twist awkwardly. He leaned toward me and whispered, "Just say you're here to deliver a contract for Mr. Chase."

I understood immediately. She was Jasper's wife.

"Got it."

He withdrew his arm from around my waist and turned, adopting an entirely different expression—gentle, warm, affectionate.

"Sweetheart, what a surprise," he said.

As I expected, Mrs. Grant was elegant, dignified, and refined. Age had only enhanced her grace.

With a soft smile, Grace Grant adjusted the lapel of Jasper's suit and said, "I was shopping with Emily and a few others. I didn't expect to run into you two."

The words "you two" pulled me into the spotlight with casual precision.

Jasper immediately switched to a businesslike tone. "Grace, this is Mr. Chase's assistant, Ms. Monroe."

I stepped forward with a polite smile. "Hello, Mrs. Grant. Mr. Chase had an urgent matter and asked me to deliver a contract to Mr. Grant. Here it is."

I pulled the document from my bag and handed it over.

Jasper hesitated, clearly not expecting me to play the game so seamlessly.

Even if he was reluctant, he had no choice but to sign and hand it back.

"Ms. Monroe," he said with a layered smile, "Mr. Chase certainly has an eye for talent."

I accepted the contract and replied sweetly, "You're too kind, Mr. Grant. But with such a refined and elegant wife at your side, it's no wonder your business thrives."

Mrs. Grant hadn't taken me seriously at first. I could tell by her eyes.

But after that line, her gaze shifted—focused, appraising.

She nodded approvingly. "Not only are you pretty, young lady, you have a silver tongue. Work hard and you'll go far."

I nodded respectfully. "Thank you for your guidance, Mrs. Grant. I'll take your words to heart."

Now was the time to retreat. No better moment would come.

"Mr. Grant, Mrs. Grant," I said, "now that the contract's signed, I won't hold you up. I'll take my leave."

Jasper looked momentarily stunned. He hadn't expected me to just walk away.

But with his wife present, he could only let me go.

He called after me, voice laced with implication. "Ms. Monroe, be sure to send my regards to Mr. Chase."

"Of course, Mr. Grant. Goodbye, Mrs. Grant."

Mrs. Grant gave me a gentle smile. "Goodbye."

I turned and left, wishing I had wings to fly out of there.

Once outside the hotel, I rushed down the steps and flagged a taxi.

Only after the door shut behind me did my heart finally settle.

I opened my bag and checked the contract again. Everything was signed. I let out a quiet laugh.

Just thinking of Jasper caught red-handed by his wife was satisfying.

But I couldn't deny it—without Mrs. Grant's appearance, I might not have escaped unscathed.

When I returned to the hotel and opened the room door, Dominic was sitting on the sofa, a cigarette between his fingers.

His eyes met mine, calm and detached. Not a flicker of concern.

"That was fast," he said.

I closed the door, fury flaring in my chest. "You sound almost disappointed, Mr. Chase."

I tossed the contract on the table and added, "You got what you wanted. Now, please return to your room. I need a shower."

He rose slowly, approaching one deliberate step at a time. He pinched my chin and tilted my face up, amused.

"Not bad," he murmured. "I underestimated you."

I jerked away and headed toward the bathroom.

Just as I was about to shut the door, he followed me in.

The next second, my feet left the floor. He lifted me onto the vanity.

Furious, eyes red, I snapped, "I was just with another man. You're not disgusted?"

He calmly unbuttoned his shirt, ignoring my protest. Then, without warning, he cradled my face and kissed me.

"I know you didn't go up to the room with him," he whispered, voice husky. "My car was outside the whole time."

My fists pounded against his chest in outrage, but his kiss only deepened.

Steam fogged the bathroom, and chaotic handprints smeared the shower screen.

He held me tightly in his arms as I cried, my nose red and raw.

But the more I cried, the harder he wanted me.