Chapter 2
Mandy only had two options left.
She could either stand by and watch John kill Matthew, or let him live the rest of his days branded as "trash from a trash family," with everyone whispering and pointing fingers at him.
Mandy closed her eyes.
Just like every other time, she endured John's cutting remarks, biting her lip until it was raw, keeping quiet.
Her silence only made John's eyes grow colder, his tone even more impatient. "Why are you just standing there? Hurry up! Do you want Sienna to freeze out here?"
After making love, Sienna was held close in John's arms, bundled up in a fur coat.
Mandy, meanwhile, was still stuck in her flimsy pajamas, shivering even inside the house.
Her hands and feet were so frozen and numb she could barely move, so she had to half-crawl, half-stumble her way up to the second floor.
Her blood smeared the stairs, long streaks of bright red trailing behind her. John's gaze darkened when he saw it. Something complicated flashed in his eyes, but he kept it to himself and just stepped over the blood, heading upstairs.
Every time John hooked up with someone else, it was always in the master bedroom, and Mandy was the one who had to change the dirty sheets afterward.
Mandy moved with practiced hands, like a lifeless puppet, quietly swapping out the linens.
Back when John and her were together, after making love, John would gently wipe her down with warm water, coax her to sleep, and then change the sheets himself.
All the affection he once poured into her was now lavished on another woman, even more than before.
John and Sienna were locked in a heated kiss, moving onto the bed.
Seeing Mandy just standing there, John shot her an impatient look, a long, sticky strand of saliva trailing from his lips. The sight stung Mandy's eyes, almost too raw to bear.
"Still not leaving? Want me to put on a live show with another woman just for you?" John sneered.
Mandy stumbled out of the room, slumping against the door and sliding down to the floor, utterly spent.
John was the kind of man who always followed through on his threats.
For the past three years, Mandy had been struggling to survive in her own personal hell. Every single day was torture, worse than death by a thousand cuts.
But this nightmare was almost over.
Mandy rested her hand over her heart.
Three years ago, when Matthew tried to force himself on her, Mandy fought back with everything she had, and ended up stabbing herself in the chest with a dagger.
A couple days ago, she went in for a check-up. The doctor said that because the wound hadn't been treated properly, her spleen was damaged and her organs were on the verge of shutting down.
"Ms. Colton, your body can only hold out for about a month," the doctor said.
*****
For the past three years, no matter how many women John brought home, they always left early in the morning.
This was the first time he actually let his lover stay for breakfast.
Because Sienna wanted walnut cereal for breakfast, Mandy was yanked out of bed by John to shell walnuts.
"Hurry up. Sienna and I need to leave by nine," John said.
Mandy had frostbite on her hands, which were painful and itchy.
The hard walnut shells pressed into her raw skin, fresh blood wrapping around the wounds. The pain made her shudder.
John glanced at her hands, about to say something when Sienna came bouncing down the stairs, throwing herself into John's arms.
She whined, "John, you were so bad last night. You went at it so many times. Now the sheets are a mess. It's so embarrassing. I don't want the housekeeper to see."
John ruffled Sienna's hair affectionately, but when he looked at Mandy, his tone was ice-cold. "When you're done with the walnuts, hand-wash the sheets upstairs.
"And make sure you don't get any blood in the washbasin. I don't want it to get filthy."
Mandy bit down hard on her lip, not letting herself make a sound.
On John and Mandy's first night together, when the sheets were marked with her virgin blood, John had carefully snipped out that spot and pressed it to his chest like it was a priceless treasure. "This is proof that you're completely mine. I'll keep it forever," he'd told her.
But now, even the sight of her blood made him recoil in disgust.
After shelling the walnuts and putting the cereal on the stove, Mandy quietly pulled several pairs of gloves over her bloody hands.
After stripping the sheets, she crouched in the bathroom and started scrubbing them hard. Suddenly, several sharp pins punched right through her rubber gloves, stabbing deep into her palms.
She yelped in pain, her foot slipped, and she tumbled right into the washbasin, landing with a heavy thud.
Pins jabbed into her knees, arms, and even her chest. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps. Her vision swam, and before she knew it, everything went black.
*****
When Mandy came to, she was in the hospital.
Her head was splitting with pain, and she instinctively reached up to rub it.
"Don't move," John said.
He held her hand down, his voice impatient, but there was a trace of barely noticeable concern in his eyes.
"The doctor said your hands need a few days rest," he added.
He sat by her bedside, holding a bowl of cereal.
His long fingers scooped up a spoonful, gently blew on it, then tested it with his lip to make sure it wasn't too hot.
"It's just right. Open up," John said softly.
Mandy parted her lips, letting him feed her plain cereal. But when it touched her tongue, she tasted a bittersweet warmth.
She hadn't felt this kind of tenderness and love in three years.
Tears slipped silently from the corners of her eyes.