Chapter 2

I looked at the sharp, handsome man standing in front of me. My heart slammed against my chest, making my ribs ache, and my eyes suddenly misted over.

I couldn't help but ask, "Vincent, do you really hate me that much?

"Three years have passed. You still can't forgive me?"

Vincent looked as though he'd heard the funniest joke in the world

He suddenly laughed, his eyes reddening with emotion.

He spat, "Forgive you? I'll hate you for the rest of my life.

"You ruined everything for me, Jocelyn. You kept me chained to you like a dog, with no dignity left. I don't just hate you. I think about killing you every single day and night."

I laughed too, my obsessive heart twisting even more.

I said, "Then go ahead and hate me. Hate sticks with you longer than love.

"Kill me if you want. Even dead, I'll still be your ghost, clinging to you forever. How about that?"

For a split second, Vincent's eyes went blank. Then he snapped back to reality and shoved me away, scowling as he spat, "You're unbelievable...

"You're nothing short of a lunatic."

He brushed past my shoulder, and the door slammed shut behind him with a loud bang.

In the days that followed, Vincent made it his mission to expose my so-called "sins" to the media, never getting tired of it for a second.

He pulled every dirty trick in the book to wreck my business deals.

He even leaked my tender documents straight to my competitors.

If it could mess me up, he'd do it, no matter what.

The media cornered me at the office, dragging my name through the mud and calling me a disgrace. The board pointed fingers at me and called me worthless right in front of everyone.

Vincent stood off to the side, grinning with mocking glee. The pleasure of revenge was written all over his handsome face.

He shoved me up against the heavy office door.

The fire in his eyes, full of challenge and spite, only grew stronger.

He sneered, "Mad, are you? I did it on purpose. I'm here to wreck everything you own, everything you hold dear.

"If you can't handle it, just let me go. You can't cage me forever, Jocelyn."

My nonchalant attitude just made Vincent even more annoyed. He snapped, "What are you laughing at?"

He might never realize it.

But he was the one I cared about most.

Honestly, as long as he was by my side, I wouldn't mind falling to rock bottom, and I'd still be content.

I looked straight into his eyes.

Then, I said, "I love you, Vincent. No matter what you do, I'll love you for the rest of my life. Giving you up? Unless I'm dead, that's never happening."

He stiffened, his brows furrowing, his eyes clouded with complicated feelings.

Silence lingered for a few seconds.

I reached out to touch his face, but he recoiled from me with a look of disgust, shooting me a cold glare. "Don't touch me!"

As if he'd just spotted a monster, he scrambled to get my hand off him and rushed out.

My parents were so shocked by those scandalous tabloid stories that they flew back home.

I thought they'd totally lose it and tear into me.

But all they said was that they just wanted to meet Vincent.

I never expected Vincent to agree, and I certainly didn't think he'd be pleasant about it.

But what really blindsided me was how he just put everything out in the open, shattering the little bit of dignity we had left in a heartbeat.

He lounged with his legs crossed, a cigarette between his lips, and didn't even bother to lift his eyes. His arrogance was downright insulting.

"I don't like Jocelyn. I loathe her. No, I hate her," Vincent said.

I frowned at him, locking eyes. His gaze was full of vindictive satisfaction, mixed with hatred and a sense of victory.

He said, "She keeps shamelessly hanging onto me, acting like she knows what's best for me, forcing everything onto me. I hate her for robbing me of the happiness that was supposed to be mine, for destroying everything I ever had.

"A woman as despicable as her? I wouldn't want her in my life, not in a million years. Even seeing her for a second makes me nauseous."

Even after three years of hearing him say these things, it still hurt. And this time, with my parents right there, the pain was mixed with a whole new layer of awkwardness.

My parents' faces were grim, especially my mom's. Her fingers were so tight around her purse strap that her knuckles were white.

Vincent let out a cold laugh, taking in all our embarrassment, then kept stirring things up like he didn't give a damn.

He said, "There's nothing between us. It's all in Jocelyn's head, just her own pathetic drama.

"I'll never love her. In fact, I'll do everything I can to destroy her, make her taste what it's like to be dumped, mocked, and forced to crawl with zero dignity..."

"Enough!" my dad snapped.

The cup rattled, coffee splashing onto the tablecloth. My dad's hand slammed down on the table, his knuckles white, his breathing heavy.

He growled, "My daughter is not here for you to treat with such contempt.

"Jocelyn, kick him out!"

My mom's eyes were also filled with utter disappointment.

Vincent let out a mocking laugh, kicked his chair back, and stood up. He shot me a cold, challenging look, not even bothering to hide the provocation in his eyes.

"I'd love nothing more," he sneered.