Chapter 1
On our wedding night, I sat alone in our room until the sunrise.
Early the next morning, Ethan showed up with a whole box of scratch-off tickets. "Claire, go ahead and scratch them. However much you win, I'll offer the same amount to your dad."
I silently accepted the tickets and picked up a coin from the table.
Using the coin, I scratched off three tickets in a row. Every single one said: Better luck next time.
He leaned against the bed, watching me, then let out a derisive laugh. "Is that all you've got? You sure were acting all fierce when you splashed red wine on Emily yesterday, weren't you?"
I stared at the tickets in silence for a moment before saying, "I won't do it again."
He was taken aback for a second, then stood up and gently ruffled my hair. "Good. Remember, don't pick on Emily anymore."
He pulled out a bank card and lightly patted my cheek. "This is enough to save your dad's company."
Tears fell from my eyes. "I don't need it now."
He didn't know my dad was already dead.
The dead have no use for money.
*****
Ethan's brows knitted together. "Stop playing games with me.
"I told you yesterday, Emily is just my secretary. You threw wine at her in front of everyone. You embarrassed me.
"I didn't put in the money just so you'd learn your lesson."
I stared at the faint lipstick mark on his collar.
It was Emily's favorite shade.
Following my gaze, he glanced down at his collar. A subtle smile played at his lips, like he suddenly remembered something.
"I understand now," I said.
Ethan took hold of my chin. "Understand what?"
"I used to be immature."
Ethan froze for a moment. "Good. It's best you've figured it out.
"Don't always expect someone else to bail you out."
He was nothing like the man who first came to my family's house for dinner.
That day, my dad made a table full of dishes.
After dinner, he called Ethan into the study and solemnly placed my hand into Ethan's. "Claire's been spoiled by me. She's got a bit of a temper, so please be patient with her."
Ethan held my hand. "Don't worry, Mr. Bennett. I'll look after her and won't let her suffer."
That night, his words left my eyes red-rimmed.
But now, the man who once promised to protect me was forcing me to bow my head and admit I was wrong.
The phone on the nightstand suddenly rang.
Ethan glanced at me, then pressed the answer button. "What's wrong?"
His voice instantly softened.
He hesitated for a moment, then said into the phone, "I'll be right there."
He hung up the phone. "Emily's having an allergy. I'll go see her.
"Claire, you're so spoiled by your dad.
"People used to give in to you all the time. Now that you're my wife, you'd better learn your place."
I stood there, watching him fix his tie.
I lowered my head and stared at the twenty-three missed calls on my phone. "Are you heading to the hospital?"
Ethan stopped in his tracks and turned to look at me. "What, you checking up on me again?"
"No," I shook my head. "Take the bank card and buy her a new dress."
His face darkened as he stepped right up to me. "Do you have to be so sarcastic right now?"
He let out a mocking laugh. "Since you're being so generous, I'll push the transfer back another three days.
"When you learn how to speak to me nicely, then I'll transfer the money."
Ever since the Bennett family's finances went under, everyone knew Ethan was the only lifeline we had left.
And because of that, he got more and more sure that I was stuck with him, no way out.
He started ignoring my calls, showing up everywhere with Emily. Whenever I tried to speak up, he'd warn me, "Keep causing trouble and the money for your family will be delayed a few more days," making sure I stayed quiet.
He spun on his heel and walked out. "Make sure you finish scratching every single ticket. I'm checking them in the morning.
"Wipe that miserable look off your face. It's a real downer."
The door slammed shut behind him.
The room fell silent.
I walked into the walk-in closet and pulled out a suitcase.
I started folding up my clothes and packing them inside.
Ethan had no idea that my dad, desperate to escape the loan sharks chasing him, went up to the company rooftop and slipped off the eighteenth floor.
My dad was gone in an instant.
The next morning, I walked out of Grant Manor with the suitcase in hand.
Mr. Mason, the butler, stopped me at the door. "Mrs. Grant, where are you going?"
"Going out to take care of something," I replied.
He glanced at my suitcase, looking uneasy. "Mr. Grant said you need to check in with him before going out."
I pulled out my phone and dialed Ethan right there in front of Mr. Mason.
The phone rang for a long time before Ethan finally answered.
"What is it now?" he said, his voice full of impatience.
"I'm going out," I told him.
"Where are you going?"
"To the hospital."
"The hospital? You're not even sick. Stop pretending."
"I got something to handle."
Ethan scoffed, then paused, as if something had just crossed his mind. "Don't bring that depressing hospital atmosphere back home."
"All right."
I turned to look at Mr. Mason.
He let out a sigh and stepped aside.