Chapter 2

Michael seemed genuinely flustered.

"Abigail, calm down. Let's go home and talk about this," he said.

I cut him off. "You mean that rundown apartment with peeling walls, the one that costs 300 bucks a month?"

I couldn't help but laugh, though it was more bitter than funny.

His expression shifted, and he tried to grab my arm. "Don't cause a scene here. It'll look bad."

"Let go," I said through gritted teeth.

He wouldn't let go. "Not unless you agree to come home and talk things out with me."

Olivia watched us tugging at each other, then chimed in with her gentle, almost patronizing tone, "Ms. Summers, you really ought to be grateful. Most women would give anything to be his wife.

"If you think Michael isn't giving you enough, I'll have him bring home an extra 1,500 dollars a month. No, let's make it 2,500 dollars. That should cover your expenses, so try not to splurge."

Her words hurt more than if she'd slapped me.

I remembered all those days when I had to pinch every penny—stocking up on toilet paper whenever it was on sale, picking out second-hand clothes from thrift apps, and cutting my own hair.

The shame kept washing over me, wave after wave.

With one hand still locked in Michael's grip, I used every ounce of strength I had to slap Olivia right across her smug face.

The sharp crack echoed through the lobby, loud and clear.

For a moment, it felt like time had stopped.

After a few seconds, Olivia finally snapped out of it, clutching her face, her eyes blazing with anger and tears.

She let out a piercing scream. "Michael! She hit me! It hurts so much!"

Michael didn't hesitate for a second.

He shoved me aside, and I stumbled backward.

My lower back slammed into the sharp edge of the reception desk, and pain shot through me. Before I could even catch my breath, he reached out to grab me again.

"Abigail! Are you out of your mind?" he roared.

He grabbed my shoulders and shoved me brutally.

Everything spun around me.

My head crashed against the corner of the marble table with a heavy, muffled thud.

A sharp pain shot through the back of my head. I reached up and touched it. My fingers came away wet with blood.

I braced myself against the table, barely managing to stay on my feet.

My vision was blurry, but I could still see him gently fussing over Olivia, cradling her face with such care.

"It hurts, Michael. It hurts so much," Olivia murmured.

Michael gently patted her back, comforting her like she was a child.

"It's okay. I'm right here," he said softly.

Then he looked up and snapped at the receptionist, "Are you blind? Can't you see Olivia's hurt? Get an ice pack!"

The receptionist flinched and rushed off to fetch an ice pack.

Blood ran down the back of my neck, soaking into my collar. It was sticky and warm at first, but it soon turned cold as ice.

I felt so cold, inside and out. My whole body was numb.

Michael finally turned to me. "Go home. I need to get Olivia to the hospital. We'll deal with our matters later."

My vision was swimming, but I forced myself to speak, "From today on, Michael, we're even."

He froze. "What?"

"You think 2.5 million is too much, huh? Fine. You owe me for my money, for eight years of my life, and for every drop of blood I've spilled because of you. I'll make sure you pay me back every last cent in court," I said.

I'd get back everything we own together, including the business he built with my money, every cent he earned over the years, the house, the car, and the jewelry he gave her. I'd take back what was rightfully mine.

Olivia snapped her head up. "You're dreaming!"

I didn't say a word. I turned and headed for the exit.

With every step, a sharp pain shot through the back of my head.

With every step, blood kept running down my neck.

But I kept my back straight. Even if I collapsed, I could never bow to anyone.

As for whether I was dreaming, I didn't bother to answer her. My lawyer would give me an answer.