Chapter 4

Half an hour later, Summer was still considering taking Ian to the hospital. But since he hadn't shown any unusual symptoms during the drive, she decided to take him home instead.

Ian didn't like having other people in his house. Apart from a cleaning service that came at scheduled times, there were never any staff around the villa.

Summer helped him into his bedroom.

A photo of the two of them still hung on the wall above the bed.

She was about to leave when Ian suddenly grabbed her wrist.

“Summer. Summer.”

Before she could react, he pulled her onto the bed.

She landed on top of him. His drunken eyes opened slightly, revealing an unnatural flush.

“Am I not good enough for you? Am I worse than those other guys? I've given you everything I possibly could. I don't want anything else. All I want is you.”

“Ian.”

“Why, Summer? Why? You want to sleep with other men? Fine. Go ahead. Just don't let me find out. Don't ever let me find out.”

Summer bit her lip so hard that the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.

“You know how much I love you. That's how much I hate you right now. I just want to hear you say, ‘Ian, I love you.’ I want you to tell me, ‘I was wrong. Can we start over?’

“Why can't you just apologize and ask me to forgive you? That's all I'm asking. Why won't you say it? Why?”

I'm sorry.

“So every single one of them is better than me, huh? They can all satisfy you better than I can.”

Ian let out a bitter laugh.

But the laughter only grew louder, and his grip on Summer's wrist tightened.

The unnatural redness in his eyes gradually spread across his face.

It was as though someone had lit a fire inside him, with the alcohol in his system only making it burn hotter.

“Ian, let go of me. We can't.”

Before Summer could finish, Ian pressed his lips against hers, his breath heavy with alcohol.

A moment later, she felt a sudden chill as he roughly tore her clothes.

Summer lost track of time.

It felt like an eternity before Ian finally shuddered, collapsed against her, and fell asleep.

Her eyes were red with unshed tears.

She didn't dare put her arms around him.

Instead, she kept her hands at her sides, her fists clenched so tightly that her fingernails broke the skin of her palms.

It hurt.

Her body hurt.

So did her heart.

Summer stared blankly at the ceiling until the sound of her phone vibrating broke through her thoughts.

She pushed Ian off her, got out of bed, and picked up her purse.

When she checked her phone, she saw Moira's name on the screen.

Summer glanced at Ian, who was sleeping soundly on the bed.

After a moment's hesitation, she pressed her lips together and rejected the call, despite knowing there would be consequences.

When the screen returned to the home page, she noticed dozens of missed calls from Moira.

She was about to put the phone down when another message arrived.

Summer opened it.

‘Open the door. I'm outside Ian's house. I saw your car. You've got five minutes.’

Summer gripped her phone so tightly that the veins on the back of her hand stood out and her knuckles turned white.

She gave herself thirty seconds to get her emotions under control.

Then she picked up her clothes and got dressed.

She also dressed Ian before heading downstairs.

The moment she opened the front door, Moira slapped her hard across the face.

“You bitch! You absolute bitch! How dare you? How dare you take Ian away right under my nose?”

Summer pressed her lips together without saying a word.

She simply stared coldly at Moira, who was practically shaking with rage.

“Don't forget that your mother's life is in my hands. And don't forget that I have plenty more photos like the one I gave you today.”

Summer's stare made Moira uneasy, but she was too used to getting her way to back down.

She shoved Summer several steps backward.

“Did you sleep with Ian? Did you?”

“Yes. Thanks to whatever you put in his drink.”

“You bitch!”

Moira raised her hand to slap her again, but Summer caught her arm and blocked the blow.

Moira reluctantly lowered her hand.

She glanced toward the bedroom.

“Was Ian conscious?”

“You should know that better than I do.”

Moira glared at Summer with pure hatred.

The drug she'd slipped into Ian's drink would leave him unable to remember what happened afterward.

That was the whole point.

She'd planned to make him believe he'd forced himself on her.

Then she could play the victim, and Ian would be consumed by guilt.

Fortunately for Moira, the situation wasn't beyond saving yet.

“Summer, I'm giving you one last chance. Keep your mouth shut about what happened today.”

She fixed Summer with a warning glare.

“And remember this. I'm the one who slept with Ian today. Not you.”