Chapter 3

I couldn't help but be thankful for how quickly the police arrived.

If they'd been two minutes later, my whole plan would've been doomed from the start.

After my mermaid dress was stripped away, Ethan used his tie to bind my hands tight, then pressed down on me without a word.

Even with only a thin layer of fabric between us, I could sense every shift in him. His greedy, lingering gaze seemed to be figuring out how to consume me piece by piece.

Panicking, I swung my leg in a fierce kick at his waist, but he caught it effortlessly with one hand, then pressed a kiss to my ankle.

The blinding overhead lights washed him in a stark white glow.

In that moment, he looked almost devout, not at all the creep I thought he was.

The clasp beneath my shoulder blade slipped free, and his wicked desire was about to be satisfied.

The door crashed open, startling everyone. "Hands on your head. Get down."

Jessica, in a panic, tore off her jacket and quickly wrapped it around me. "We're going to the hospital. It's okay. You're safe."

My tears flooded out, soaking my jacket through. With the last bit of strength I had left, I forced out a few words. "No, something is wrong with the wine. Get it tested."

Must've been something to knock me out, because I passed out almost instantly.

I woke up in the hospital.

A police officer sat nearby, asking questions and jotting everything down. "Are you saying this was all planned?"

"Yes. My fiancé, Michael, deliberately orchestrated this. He had his friend Ethan try to take advantage of me. I want to press charges and request a full investigation," I said.

The security footage from the hotel's private room and bedroom was quickly pulled up.

There was a small amount of a hallucinogenic drug in my blood, the same stuff as in the wine.

Ethan's business card was still in my pocket.

Jessica showed her call log, too.

That night, after Michael left with Sophie and closed the door behind them, they were basically making it easy for Ethan to do his thing.

All three of them were quickly hauled down to the station.

By the time the IV drip to counteract the drugs was finally finished, it was nearly midnight.

As I expected, the hotel's security footage had been wiped clean. I had to get out of there fast.

Back at my rented place, I started packing up the essentials.

As I was about to zip up my suitcase, the doorknob started rattling violently. "Open the door, Charlotte. How dare you try to screw me over?"

A furious voice roared from outside. It was Michael.

I lived on the fifth floor. If I jumped, I'd either die or end up crippled.

With a bang, the door was kicked open.

Michael squeezed my neck tightly with one hand, veins popping on the back of his hand as he tightened his grip.

My face turned from pale to blue, and my eyes rolled back involuntarily. Only when he saw me on the verge of passing out did he let go like he'd been burned.

"So you planned all this tonight, huh? Too bad for you. Looks like your scheme blew up in your face," Michael spat.

I coughed hard, not caring how I looked, my throat seizing up with every breath, each one burning with the taste of blood.

His voice softened a bit, his eyes lingering on my neck. His middle and ring fingers trembled, as if he wanted to comfort me, but he stood there, unable to move.

I slumped onto my suitcase and let out a laugh, tears slipping down my cheeks.

From the very beginning, I never really thought Michael would end up behind bars.

I'd been with him for three years. I wasn't stupid. I knew how tangled his connections were in Aurland.

"What's so funny? You really think causing all this drama means you'll end up with Ethan? Dream on. He's marrying Ms. Thorne by the end of the year," Michael sneered.

I'd have to be insane to think about Ethan, a useless idiot whose mind was always on screwing around.

I didn't bother responding to him. Instead, I shot back, pretending to be curious, "So, how's Sophie in bed, Michael? How do you go after a girl who turned eighteen? You only agreed to sponsor her so you could sleep with her, right?"

He was like a desperate beast, never turning anyone down

It suddenly occurred to me of the stallion used for breeding at the horse farm I visited the year before. Thinking about it made my stomach turn all over again, after a few sips of wine.

His face dropped, and he slipped right back into that usual superior attitude.

"It's all mutual, so what's the big deal? Charlotte, you really think you're irreplaceable? That I'd ever need you to be Mrs. Kingston?" he sneered.

He clamped my chin tight, his eyes right in front of me, so close, yet so utterly unfamiliar.

"Say something. Weren't you so quick to accuse me back at the hospital?" he barked.

Even if I hated to admit it, everything pointed to the truth. The one who used to trail after me was an illusion.

He vanished without a trace two years ago, the moment his memories returned.

Sarah Kingston was right. I never really knew her brother Michael, not ever.

I slapped him hard across the face.

I spat out, "You should've died three years ago, Michael. In all my twenty-plus years, I've never regretted a single thing, until now. My biggest regret is dragging you out of that river."

While he was still in shock, I shoved him out and slammed the door right in his face.

Ignoring the wild barrage of comments blowing up the screen, I switched off my phone that had been live-streaming everything.