Chapter 3

Just as Marshall Vasquez's lips were about to meet mine, I had a sudden, oddly timed thought: his eyelashes were remarkably long, even more curled than a woman's.

Our breaths mingled, and Marshall's lips grazed the corner of my mouth. Abruptly, a hand pulled him away—Ricardo Smith's gaze was intense, and he spoke with strained control. "Let's talk business." He practically dragged Marshall away, and I followed quietly behind.

Through the door, I heard their argument. Ricardo's voice was low, almost losing control. "What do you think you’re doing? Don’t cross the line; Eva Rogers is my fiancée."

Marshall lit a cigarette with a dry laugh. "Oh, you remember that? Then what are you doing with Maisy Dunn?"

Ricardo paused for a few seconds, his denial weak. "Everyone thinks Maisy is my fiancée now. I can’t humiliate her... Besides, I know the limits. I won’t do anything too bad or really hurt Eva."

Marshall interrupted with a cold chuckle. "Ricardo, are you fooling us or yourself? Is this entertaining to you?"

Outside, I clenched my fists until my knuckles turned white. The sound of approaching heels echoed. Maisy stood beside me. "Men are terrible. Even after I humiliated him in college, he still loves me."

Maisy turned to look at me. "By the way, did Ricardo ever slobber over you like a puppy? He’d leave your neck and chest covered. I’d say it tickled, and he’d get even more excited."

A wave of disgust washed over me, making my stomach churn. Ricardo had always been careful with me. I thought it was out of respect and affection, but maybe I wasn’t what he truly wanted.

But I wouldn't let Maisy stand so confidently in front of me. "Maisy, perhaps you should consider your own issues." She looked puzzled at my question.

"For some men, certain women are worth marrying, while others are a temporary thrill. He treated you as a toy, but the one he wants to marry is me. Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, you’re not enough?"

"Even a stray wouldn't take you."

Maisy's face froze, her eyes blazing with anger. "Eva Rogers, you’re asking for it!" She shrieked and shoved me, and we both plunged into the swimming pool behind us.

With a splash, the cold water pierced my skin like needles. Struggling underwater, I saw Ricardo anxiously dive into the pool. I reached out to him. But he swam past me and pulled Maisy into his arms. "Maisy! Are you okay? Don’t worry, I’m here."

The water quickly engulfed my face. I watched Ricardo bring Maisy to the edge of the pool. Suddenly, I felt exhausted, unwilling to fight anymore. My consciousness began to fade.

Until someone pulled me up, lifting me from the depths—it was Marshall. His hands trembled slightly as he held me. "Eva Rogers, wake up."

His voice was unusually tense, his eyes filled with a strange panic. I coughed out a mouthful of water. Ricardo hurried over, attempting to wipe my face with a towel.

"Eva, are you okay?"

I raised my hand to stop him. "My boyfriend's here; go tend to your fiancée." Ricardo hesitated, his expression a mix of embarrassment and shame.

Marshall took the towel forcefully, wiping my hair and face with an icy demeanor. "Eva, I wasn’t—" Ricardo stammered.

"Maisy can’t swim; I had to save her first."

Maisy wrapped her arms around herself. "Ricardo, I’m a bit cold…"

Ricardo glanced at me briefly before going to Maisy, lifting her up. As he passed, I murmured, "But I can't swim either."

Ricardo paused momentarily but didn't look back.

"Did she deliberately push Maisy into the pool?"

"Jealousy, clearly... what a scandal."

I clenched my teeth, standing straight. Marshall draped an arm around my shoulders, shielding me from their stares. "Let’s head inside; you’ll catch a cold."

As we passed Maisy's room, her door was slightly ajar. Inside, I heard broken moans and gasps.

I stopped in my tracks, my hand impulsively pushing the door open a bit.

In the dim light, Ricardo lay naked on top of Maisy, his movements frenzied, his words crude.

I stood frozen in the doorway, my mind blank. My chest felt like a hammer was pounding relentlessly, each blow threatening to suffocate me.

Marshall reached from behind, covering my eyes. "Don't listen, don't look."