Chapter 1
I was born emotionally numb—couldn't really feel love or hate.
That was why Edward Grant thought I was stupid.
His family forced him into marriage, and for years, he paraded women through our home like it was nothing.
He'd kiss them, then shot me a taunting look, daring me to watch.
"Claire, this is how normal people show affection," he'd say.
He never bothered to hide the sounds from the bedroom.
"So what if she hears? She'll probably just think we're horsing around," he'd say.
I was clueless. He'd even get me to wash the sheets afterward.
I put on a tiny dress and did some provocative dance to entertain his girlfriend.
She filmed it and sent it to everyone at my lab.
While I stood there humiliated, he pulled her close and laughed.
"See? Total airhead. She doesn't understand a thing."
But then Edward caught me in the elevator, making out with his worst enemy.
His eyes went red with fury. "What the hell are you doing?"
I blinked up at him, wide-eyed and innocent.
"Just making friends. The way you showed me."
*****
The cruel laughter pierced through me, and reality crashed down—I'd been played.
I stood frozen, hand still raised, then ripped off the blindfold.
A scrap of fabric the size of my palm was all I had on. My skin prickled in the cold air under everyone's stares.
I just stood there like an idiot.
A girl was tucked into Edward's arms, laughing hysterically.
"Edward, did you see that glass-wiping move she just did? She looked ridiculous!"
Edward chuckled, his arm draped lazily around her, fingers toying with her hair.
"Feeling better now?"
He turned his head, lips brushing her ear.
"This whole birthday 'surprise' was for you. Still mad?"
She whined playfully and burrowed into him. "You're the best."
Everyone was dying laughing.
"Making the dork strip-dance? Brilliant! No brains and she moves like a robot!"
"Come on, don't be so mean. She might be slow, but look at that body... Mr. Grant must be keeping her busy, huh?"
One guy jumped up and mimicked my clumsy movements—flailing around like a confused goose with its neck stuck.
I stared at Edward, lost.
"You tricked me?"
He'd told me out of nowhere that it was our second anniversary and he had a surprise—wanted me to dance for him.
He was suddenly being so nice. I was thrilled, and of course, I said yes.
Edward glanced up, exhaling smoke.
"Trick you?
"Isn't making my baby happy the real surprise?"
I clutched the scrap of fabric, fingers numb with cold.
"I want to go home."
Edward laughed, low and mocking. "See? Told you. That's all she ever says."
He waved me off.
"Get my girl some water. She laughed so hard her throat was dry.
"Didn't you say you wanted friends? Time to learn how to be useful."
This was his usual routine whenever he brought women home.
After they were done, he'd make me change the guest room sheets.
"The sheets are soaked. She can't sleep like that, Claire. You're the host—it's your job to make everyone comfortable."
I tugged at my clothes. "Edward, I want to go home!"
Sophie Lane, the girl in his arms, grabbed my wrist.
"Claire, don't rush off. We're really doing this for your own good."
She waved her phone at me.
"Look, I just sent that video of your little performance to everyone at your lab. I bet they think you're... real interesting now."
I was stunned, and my phone exploded with notifications.
The video—me in next to nothing, jerking around like a puppet—was flooding the group chat.
[Miss Academia sure knows how to party!]
[Always acting all high and mighty, but turns out she's got a wild side!]
[No wonder her papers get published so fast—must have some "special skills!"]
My DMs blew up with nasty rumors and insults.
Even the dean messaged me: [Dr. Foster, you need to step back from your work. There's been an accusation of academic misconduct and falsified research.]
My voice shook. "Why would you do this?"
Edward kissed Sophie without a care.
"She's helping you make friends, right? You never connect with anyone, but after they see you dance like that, maybe someone will finally like you."
Edward gave me a long, bored look and clicked his tongue.
"Idiot."
Just then, the door to the private room was flung open.
Edward's sworn enemy, Charles Bennett.
"Weren't we supposed to meet? What's this mess here?" he asked.
He scanned the room, eyes landing on me. His brow furrowed imperceptibly.
"Or are you broke these days, Mr. Grant? Can't even afford to dress your wife? Need a loan?"
I bit my lip. Edward's expression went ice-cold. He gestured for someone to toss my clothes over.
"Idiot. How embarrassing. Can't even figure out how to get dressed. Put those on and sit down."
I dressed in silence, eyes burning.
I wasn't stupid. I could feel his disgust, hear the mockery.
And I kind of hated Edward.
So while Edward and Charles argued over their contract, I quietly slipped my bare foot against Charles' leg.