Chapter 3
When the door swung open, it was Edward's new girlfriend—a young, pretty college student.
She had on my silk robe, shooting me a look that was both smug and scornful as she sized me up.
Edward sat on the sofa, sipping his coffee unhurriedly.
"Back already?"
Edward glanced up at me with a lazy smirk. "Have you finally come to your senses?"
"Where's my stuff?" I asked.
"Oh, your junk?" He pointed at a few trash bags by the door. "It's all there. Grab it and get lost."
Looking at those carelessly discarded items that carried ten years of my memories, I felt as if a hand were ruthlessly clutching my heart.
The college girl giggled, snuggling up to Edward.
"Edward, she looks so pitiful, just like a stray dog kicked out by its owner."
Edward pinched her cheek, his eyes full of affection.
"You're right, baby," he said.
He stood up, walked over to me, and looked down at me condescendingly.
"Julia, get on your knees and beg me. Who knows? If I'm in a good mood, maybe I'll let you crawl back," he sneered.
The servants kept their heads down, but their suppressed laughter pricked at my ears like needles.
He crushed my dignity under his heel, grinding it to dust.
I didn't kneel.
I just looked at him, calm and steady, every word clear and deliberate.
"Edward, you'll regret this," I said.
He laughed like I'd just told the best joke in the world.
"I'll be waiting."
I bent down and silently gathered those trash bags.
Inside were the scarf I'd knitted with my own hands, and the broken frame from our very first photo together.
I carefully packed them up, one by one, then dragged them out of this house that made me sick.
Behind me, their laughter echoed, bold and unrestrained.
I was lugging those big bags, aimlessly wandering the streets with nowhere to go.
The city lights flickered on as night fell, but not a single one was meant for me.
My phone buzzed with an incoming message from Samuel.
[Come to the office.]
I grabbed a cab and headed straight to Grant Capital.
Samuel's office was ablaze with lights.
He tossed a file onto the desk in front of me.
"Explain this," he said.
Inside was the record of my failed short trade, showing a loss of over 100,000 dollars.
"Edward knew about it in advance," I murmured.
"So, is this all you're worth?" Samuel's voice was icy.
"Your intel was wrong, and your move was a failure," he said, his tone cold and cutting.
"Julia, my patience is wearing thin," he added.
All the emotions I'd bottled up all day were about to explode.
But I held it together.
I looked him straight in the eye.
"Give me one more chance," I said.
"Why should I?" he asked.
"Because I want Edward dead even more than you do," I said.
My eyes must've been downright chilling, because Samuel stared at me for a long moment.
"The bidding for the South District land parcel opens in three days," Samuel said in a slow, deliberate drawl. "This is your final opportunity. If you fail again, you know the consequences."
"If you mess up again, you know what happens," he warned, his eyes sharp and unyielding.
As I walked out of Grant Capital, I was drenched in cold sweat.
There was no turning back for me now.
I had to win.
For the next two days, I holed up in that tiny motel room, obsessively trying to piece together every last detail about the South City deal from my previous life.
How did Edward figure out what I was planning before I even made a move?
Which part of my plan had fallen apart?
I went over every step again and again, refusing to let a single clue slip through my fingers.
It wasn't until the night before the bidding that it suddenly hit me—there was someone I'd overlooked.
Edward's secretary, Lynn Carter.
In my previous life, after Edward's downfall, Lynn was imprisoned for corporate embezzlement. She was the one who confessed and disclosed all of his dark, closely guarded secrets to the police.
Including the fact that she had been assisting Edward in monitoring all of my communications.
It all made sense now.
My phone and my laptop had been under his surveillance the entire time.
He was like an almighty god looking down from above, watching my clumsy performance as a clown.
A cold shiver shot up from my feet, spreading through my whole body in an instant.
He wasn't just out to humiliate me—he wanted to have me completely under his thumb.
He wanted me to know, deep down, that I'd never escape his grip.
I ditched my phone and laptop, then called Samuel Grant from a payphone.
"Just follow the plan, and have your people there on time," I said.
Samuel Grant was silent for a moment on the other end.
"You sure about this?" he asked.
"I'm sure," I replied.
After hanging up, I gazed out at the night, a strange sense of calm washing over me.
Edward, this game of cat and mouse was only just beginning.