Chapter 2
The car screeched to a halt. Tires carved long black lines into the empty street.
Brandon answered the call with a cold, aggressive swipe.
With his knuckles flushed from the force, he pinched my lips, forcing me to make a sound.
"Amy, does your husband have any idea that you're just a whore who's been used by her brother more times than anyone can count?" Brandon taunted.
I stifled a moan, biting down hard on my lip to keep from making a sound.
The voice on the other end of the line was so gentle compared to Brandon's.
"Amy, the massage therapist I booked for you is here. Where are you? You little glutton, don't tell me you've run off again..." my husband said.
That sense of powerless guilt spread through me, making my limbs weak.
I whimpered, sinking my teeth into Brandon's knuckles, and the victorious gleam in his gaze chilled me to the bone.
He didn't miss a single word my husband said, listening to every syllable.
Then, laughing, he suddenly flung my phone out the window despite my struggles.
Brandon glanced down at me, his palm pressed against my baby bump.
"So, Amy, think you've gotten clever now? To outsiders, it might look like you really love your husband, but you know tricks like that don't fool me," he mocked.
He continued, "Once that baby's born, I bet you'll show up at the Malone house waving some blackmail. That's exactly the kind of stunt you and your shameless mother would pull."
He added, "I've watched plenty of women like you stop at nothing to claw your way up."
Even after all these years, every time he said things like that, I still couldn't get a word out.
It was true. My mom was the homewrecker, the other woman who tore his family apart.
I didn't argue back. Instead, I clutched the pendant hanging around my neck.
"This is the pendant he gave me. Brandon, you know... I never..." I hesitated.
I wanted to say I'd never had any interest in these kinds of trinkets before.
On the back, our names, my husband's and mine, were etched into the gemstone.
But Brandon sneered, tore the pendant from my neck, and flung it out the window in a furious toss.
The tires crunched over it, and I couldn't tell if it was a stone splitting apart or the pendant breaking into pieces.
"Well, that's gone now," Brandon sneered.
Brandon suddenly tightened his grip around my throat, squeezing hard.
"So, Amy, what else do you have now to prove that the kid you're carrying isn't mine?" he demanded.
I stared at him, stunned. My legs felt like they'd give out any second.
All these years later, Brandon still knew exactly how to push me to the edge.
Every last photo of me and my husband was saved on my phone.
Now my phone was gone, and so was the pendant.
I finally lost it. "How many times do I have to say it's not yours? You want proof so bad. Should I slice myself open and dump the baby out right here for you?"
Brandon slammed on the gas, the speedometer jackknifing up to 120 miles per hour.
I clutched the door handle, my eyes bloodshot with fury.
"Brandon, you shot down my proposal. You broke me in like I was some kind of animal. What are you waiting for me to say? That the baby is yours?" I spat at him.
Brandon suddenly slammed on the brakes.
He shot me a look so murderous it made me feel like he could strangle me with just his eyes.
He roughly yanked me out of the car.
The black Porsche was already parked outside the gates of a sprawling estate.
Brandon laughed under his breath, eyes fixed on me like I was downright delusional.
"Amy, you actually think that's possible? I just wanted you to see for yourself what kind of woman deserves to be my wife." He scoffed.
His gaze raked over me with cold disdain, sweeping across every inch of my body. Every part of me he used to be obsessed with.
"Not like you... just second-rate trash." Brandon scoffed.
After that proposal of mine became the laughingstock of the entire Haburg circle, Brandon really did end up engaged to someone, Nadia Castro.
Every news outlet was buzzing about it.
And every time she was pictured nestled against Brandon, she looked drop-dead gorgeous, like a flower bud about to bloom in early spring.
Brandon made it crystal clear to everyone.
Women like me, who dared to covet him, were unworthy.
And now, the woman from those photos stood before me in the flesh.
It felt like someone had just slapped me across the face.
Nadia's beauty wasn't just striking in pictures. It was even more dazzling up close.
She looked so sweet and innocent, like she was born to be a fairytale princess.
She offered her hand to me, her silk glove shimmering in the light.
But just as I was about to take it, she pulled back at the last second.
Nadia looked me up and down, sizing me up like I was some kind of product on display.
After giving me a silent once-over, she flashed me a smile.
"Just so you know, Brandon and I are about to get engaged. My spiritual advisor told me not to get near... filthy thing," Nadia said, her voice icy with superiority.
I tilted my chin up, not missing the sting in her tone. Her message was loud and clear.
My fingers twisted nervously, skin gone pale as I shot a look at Brandon.
"Since I'm not welcome here, can I leave now?" I asked.
Brandon didn't even bother to look at me. He just washed and dried his hands, taking his sweet time.
Then he cast a slow, doting glance at Nadia, gaze overflowing with spoiling affection.
"She's the lady of the house here. If she agrees, you can go," he said indulgently.
I pressed my lips together, my stomach in knots from nerves.
"I should get going. If my husband waits too long and I don't show up, he'll start to panic," I said.
Honestly, dealing with him wasn't any easier than handling Brandon.
Brandon couldn't read me at all.
But the moment I said "husband," his jaw snapped tight, a flash of irritation in his eyes.
Without warning, he yanked Nadia onto his lap.
He locked his hand behind her head and pulled her in for a fierce kiss.
Aside from the howling wind outside, the only sound left was the unmistakable wet noise of their lips and tongues entwined.
I hugged myself and jerked my head away, refusing to watch any more of their show.
Nadia smirked, pulling away from the kiss with an arched eyebrow, looking down at me with smugness.
"Brandon never kissed you like this, did he?" she said.
"Heard you were popping pills for years. It must've been hard to finally get pregnant," she continued, voice ice-cold with mockery.
She said it so casually, like Brandon had told her everything about us.
I didn't deny it. I just bit my lip and nodded.
Kissing was something only lovers did.
Between Brandon and me, that kind of emotion was forbidden.
I was just supposed to be his obedient little toy, quietly staying by his side.
He'd snap his fingers and I'd come running. He told me to leave, and I'd disappear just as fast.
That was the part Brandon had written for me.