Chapter 2

Damien's smile cracked bit by bit, froze, and then finally collapsed.

It was an expression I had never seen before, a mixture of extreme shock, disbelief, shame, and anger.

He stared at the message like it was some kind of alien creature, then snapped his head up and locked his eyes on me.

"Connie, what do you mean by this?" he said, his voice raspy like sandpaper scraping.

His perfect husband act was shattered completely in that moment.

He snatched the phone from my hand, his knuckles turning white with how hard he was gripping it. He read the message over and over, like he was trying to burn a hole through the screen with his eyes.

The color drained rapidly from his face, replaced by a livid coldness.

He lowered his voice, each word squeezed out through clenched teeth. "Are you hiding something from me?"

I looked at him calmly and reached out to take my phone back.

But he gripped it even tighter, veins standing out on the back of his hand.

He snapped, "I'm talking to you! What the hell is this supposed to mean? A prenup? When did you sneak around and set this up behind my back?"

That curse landed like a slap, stinging my face.

We'd been married a year, and he'd never said a harsh word to me. That single curse snuffed out the last bit of warmth I still felt for him.

"It's my engagement gift. My dad made me get it notarized," I replied calmly, pulling my hand back and letting him keep the phone.

"Your dad?" Damien sneered, like I'd just cracked the world's biggest joke. "Oh, your dad, huh? Since when do families keep things separate? So in your and your dad's eyes, I'm just some outsider, a thief. Is that it?"

He suddenly lost it, hurling the phone onto the couch with a dull, angry thud.

Damien yelled, "My brother's about to lose his house because he's short on this money! If he can't pay today, it's gone! What do you expect him to do? How's his girlfriend's family supposed to look at him? How are we supposed to hold our heads up as a family?"

I stared at his face, twisted with fury, and for the first time, I felt a chill. He was a complete stranger to me.

So this was love, huh? To him and his family, I was just a bank account they could tap into whenever they wanted.

I asked him, "Why does your brother need my money to buy a house?"

That question was like a needle, piercing right through his last bit of pretense.

He roared, "Connie! We're married! I've worked so hard for this family, and you have my paycheck. What's mine is yours, what's yours is mine, isn't it? And now you're drawing lines between us? You're breaking my heart! You're so selfish!"

He started guilt-tripping me, playing mind games, and trying to make me feel like I was the villain here.

He listed everything he had ever done for me. Those moments that once moved me to tears now sounded like clearly priced transactions coming from his mouth.

He said, "I pick you up from work every day, cook for you, and I worry about you more than you do when you're not feeling well. I've done so much for you. Can't you even chip in a little for my family?"

When he saw I wasn't moved, he put on his most heartbroken face, came over, and reached for my hand.

He said, "Connie, I know you're not that kind of person. Just treat it like a loan, alright? I swear, I'll pay you back."

The instant his hand brushed my skin, revulsion shot through me.

I jerked my hand away, stepped back, and shot him a cold glare.

I asked, "And how exactly are you going to pay me back? With your seven thousand dollars a month? You'd have to go without food or water for over a decade just to pay off one million dollars. Damien, are you kidding me?"

His face went from red to pale.

The shell carefully wrapped in "love" and "devotion" was mercilessly torn open by me, revealing the ugly insecurity and rage inside.

"You just look down on me!" Damien finally snapped, pointing right at my face. "Did you look down on me from the very beginning? Look down on my family for coming from the countryside? My family is poor, but we have backbone! We're not here to be humiliated by you!"

He got more and more worked up, his chest heaving with every breath. "You'd better cough up that money today, or this marriage is over!"

Spitting out those words, he spun around, snatched his coat from the entryway, and stormed out, slamming the door.

The crash of the door echoed through the empty living room, pounding in my ears.

I stared at the tightly shut door, then slowly walked over to the couch and picked up my phone.

The screen was still lit up, that bank notification text still front and center.