Chapter 2

I set my phone down and walked over to the sink in the corner, turning on the faucet. The water was icy cold.

I held the rash on the back of my hand under the cold stream until my skin went numb.

Footsteps sounded outside the door. It was Martha, the main house's housekeeper.

"Ms. Carter, Alpha said he wants seafood chowder for dinner," Martha said, sounding a bit awkward as she stood in the doorway. "Ms. Hayes said she can't get used to the food outside."

I grabbed a towel and dried my hands.

"Got it," I said, opening the door.

Martha looked like she wanted to say something but held back. "Ms. Carter, please don't take it personally. Alpha is just after something new for now..."

"Do we have any fresh scallops in the kitchen?" I cut her off.

Martha paused, a little taken aback. "Yes, we do."

"Let's go," I said, closing the door to the backyard.

All the ingredients were ready in the kitchen.

I tied on my apron and started washing and chopping, my movements smooth and practiced.

I didn't throw a fit or break down. After all, my countdown had already begun.

The seafood chowder in the pot was bubbling away.

I picked out the sliced onions one by one.

Leon didn't eat onions, and neither did Donna.

After three years of being together, I'd gotten used to leaving onions out of my cooking.

"It smells amazing," a soft, delicate voice called from behind me.

Donna was leaning against the kitchen doorframe, wearing the dress that used to be mine.

She had makeup on and looked radiant, nothing like the frail, sickly person Leon always described her as.

"Sis, you've been working so hard," she said, stepping closer to the pot. "Leon says your chowder is the best. I've been craving it for ages."

I ignored her, took the spoon, and quietly stirred the pot.

She didn't seem embarrassed at all and just kept rambling on.

"Honestly, I never wanted to leave back then," Donna said with a pitiful sigh. "But those people pointed a gun at my head and told me if I didn't leave, Leon would be dead."

"I had to put myself through all that just to save him," she added.

I covered the pot and turned off the heat.

"The chowder's ready," I said, taking off my apron.

"Lena, are you upset with me?" Donna suddenly reached out and grabbed my sleeve. "I know my coming back has made things awkward for you, but I really can't live without Leon."

Her eyes turned a little red, making her look heartbreakingly vulnerable.

I gave her a cold stare, my eyes locked on her hand clutching my sleeve.

"Let go," I said, my voice quiet but cold as ice.

Donna jerked her hand back, stepping away as if she was in shock.

"What's going on?" a deep male voice called from the doorway.

Leon strode in, immediately stepping in front of Donna to shield her. Then he shot me a sharp, frowning look.

"You scared her," he said, his tone full of reproach.

I watched him step in to protect Donna, not feeling a thing.

"The chowder's in the pot. Serve yourself," I said, picking up a glass of water and taking a sip.

Leon shot a look at the pot.

Get it ready and bring it out," he ordered. "Donna hurt her wrist before. She can't lift anything heavy."

I set the glass down.

"So, am I your chef or Donna's maid?" I asked, meeting his gaze.

Leon paused, caught off guard.

It was the first time I'd ever stood up to him since I was sent to the backyard.

A flicker of annoyance crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by a tolerant look.

"Lena, don't be so petty," he sighed. "Donna has been through a lot. Can't you cut her some slack? You used to be generous."

I stared at his face. The look showed that he was taking everything I did for granted.

Yeah, I used to be so generous.

I gave up everything I had just to make his life easier. Even my own life, if it came to that.

So what did I get out of it?

"Martha," I called out, raising my voice.

Martha, who'd been waiting outside, hurried in.

"Bring the chowder out," I ordered.

Martha glanced at Leon, and when he didn't object, she quickly picked up the pot and walked out.

I didn't spare them another glance and walked straight out of the kitchen.

*****

When I went back to my room in the backyard, it felt even colder.

The autumn night wind crept in through the cracks in the window, carrying a biting chill.

The heating pipes in the backyard were broken.

Leon knew all about it.

Last winter, he'd held me right here and promised he'd get someone to fix them for good once spring came.

But now it was late autumn, and he'd clearly forgotten all about it.

I pulled the thin blanket tighter around me and sat down at the table.

There was a document on the table.

It was the purchase contract for this land, along with the deed to the mansion.

My name was right there, clear as day.

I picked up a pen and wrote a number on a blank sheet of paper: 90.

That was the deadline I set for myself.

Ninety days were enough for me to strip away and transfer every asset under my name that was tied to Leon. They were also enough to erase the claiming mark on my body.

My phone screen lit up. It was a message from the bank. $15,000 was just transferred to my account.

Then Leon texted me. [Use the money to buy some fall clothes. Donna wore your dress. Consider this compensation.]

I stared at the message, a mocking smile curling at my lips.

$15,000 wouldn't even be enough to buy a sleeve of that dress.

He thought this would comfort me, and that I'd keep being his invisible backer.

He was far too confident.

So confident that he believed that as long as he never brought up breaking up, I'd never leave him.

I didn't bother replying and just tossed my phone onto the bed.

Donna's laughter floated in faintly from the dining room in the main house.

I turned off the light, letting the darkness swallow me as I lay down.

The claiming mark on my wrist started to throb with a dull ache again.

It was fine. By tomorrow afternoon, everything would be over.