Chapter 2

The heavy rain began to pour late at night.

Thunder cracked, echoing the nightmare-filled nights I had spent in prison.

I curled up on the guest room bed, my body shaking with cold.

The master bedroom door opened.

I heard heavy footsteps drawing nearer with the unmistakable scent of alcohol in the air.

The door was pushed open, and Matthew's tall figure loomed over me.

He didn't bother turning on the light. He climbed onto the bed with practiced ease. His cold, damp body pressed against mine as he wrapped his arms around me from behind. "Julieta," he murmured.

His hot breath brushed against my neck.

I froze, nausea swirling in my stomach. "Matthew, look at me. You've got the wrong person."

I pushed against him with all my strength, but he didn't move an inch.

"Cut it out," he snapped, grabbing my wrists and pinning me down. "Stop pretending. This playing-hard-to-get game is getting old."

A flash of lightning illuminated the night, casting a stark contrast between his clouded eyes and my pale face.

When he saw it was me, he suddenly stopped.

The dizziness in his eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by pure disgust. "Why you?"

He scrambled off the bed as if he had touched something filthy, straightening his disheveled robe.

"This is the guest room," I said, sitting up and pulling the blanket tightly around me. "You're the one who walked in here."

Matthew's face darkened as he stood by the bed, looking down at me with a cold, commanding expression.

"Hailey, do you really think you can cling to this place, and I won't do anything about it?" he asked.

"I'm moving out tomorrow," I said.

"Move out?" Matthew sneered. "Where do you think you can go? In Jinsburg, who would hire an accountant with a record for business fraud? Who would rent a place to an ex-con?"

He was right.

My name was already ruined.

In this circle, I was the outcast everyone wanted to drive away.

"You don't need to worry about that, Mr. Puckett," I said.

Matthew snorted. "Don't think I can't see through you. You're playing the pity card, hoping I'll feel guilty? Hailey, that act is far too old now."

He pulled a card from his wallet and tossed it onto the bed.

"There's 150 thousand on this card. Go do some work and fix that dead look on your face. Maybe you'll manage to trap some poor guy into marrying you," he sneered.

The card landed on the blanket softly but felt like a boulder, crushing the air from my lungs.

He used 150 thousand dollars to repay five years of my youth, three years behind bars, and the heart that once beat so fiercely for him.

"Matthew," I said, picking up the card and rolling it between my fingers. "Back in prison, one of the tough ladies told me something. Dignity is like your underwear. You can't see it, but you can't go without it."

Matthew frowned. "What's your point?"

"I want to say..." I raised my hand, flinging the card at his face hard.

The card cut across his cheek, leaving a red mark before falling onto the carpet. "Save that money for when you're bankrupt," I added.

Matthew froze.

He had never imagined that the timid, obedient Hailey would ever dare to defy him like this.

Rage exploded in his eyes instantly.

He grabbed my throat and pinned me against the headboard. "Hailey, are you seeking death?"

Suddenly, I couldn't breathe.

I had to tilt my head back, staring up at his face twisted with fury.

Once, that face had been the only thing keeping me alive in prison.

Whenever I felt like giving up, I'd think of him.

I'd tell myself he was waiting for me and that together we would make Puckett Group greater.

Now, all I could do was laugh at how pathetic it all had been.

"Matthew," I rasped, forcing the words out. "Go ahead. Choke me to death. Your big wedding will turn into a funeral."

Matthew released me abruptly.

I clutched my throat, coughing violently as tears filled my eyes.

He wiped his hand in disgust, as if he had touched something filthy. "Get out."

He pointed to the door, his voice cold as ice. "Right now. Get out of my house."

I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down.

I got out of bed and began packing.

I didn't have much.

There were only a few old clothes, some books, and a photo frame.

The photo showed Matthew and me back in our college days.

Back then, he had been bright and ambitious, his smile full of hope and confidence.

I pulled the photo out, tore it into tiny pieces, and tossed them into the trash.

All that remained was the empty frame.

It was like my eight years of youth, hollow, with nothing to show for it.

I carried my suitcase and walked past Matthew without stopping or looking back.

"Matthew," I said coldly, "may you and Julieta have a long, happy life together. May your family line die with you."

The sound of glass shattering echoed behind me.

With a smirk, I stepped out into the pouring rain.