Chapter 2

The people nearby thought Alex was about to ask something dramatic, but when it turned out to be this, people couldn't help but grumble.

"Seriously? That's the question you ask? Isn't it obvious?

"Mrs. Carter's dress is a limited-edition Louis Vuitton couture piece, and that Hermès handbag she's holding? It only hit the shelves two days ago, and she already has it. Mr. Carter clearly spoils her rotten."

"Exactly. Mrs. Carter is living the dream."

"Is that so?" Alex raised an eyebrow, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.

I hesitated for a moment before nodding. "They're right."

He fell silent, his gaze returning to me, slowly moving up until it settled on the faint bruise still lingering on my neck.

The game was reaching its peak. Things were getting intense.

The couple next to us were using the punishment as an excuse to practically devour each other, making out shamelessly.

I looked away, put the dice back in the cup, and rolled them again.

This time, I won.

I passed the choice to Alex. "Truth or dare?"

"Alex, pick dare!" A girl who had her eye on Alex pouted at him, then kept winking at me, clearly hoping I'd help her out.

Alex replied, "Truth."

I saw it coming, so I took a deep breath, like I was about to risk it all, and asked him. "Have you ever hated me?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, everyone at the table started whispering and gossiping.

"Wait, didn't Mrs. Carter say she didn't even know Alex?"

"Oh, please, there's definitely something going on between them. Looks like somebody's got no chance now."

I was so fixated on Alex's answer that my fingers were twisting the lace on my dress to bits from nerves.

But Alex didn't answer.

With everyone watching, he downed three drinks as his own penalty.

I was pretty sure Alex must have really hated me.

Back when I got into Westhood University, I fell head over heels for Alex the moment I saw him.

He was the hottest guy in our freshman class, but also the poorest.

Lots of girls chased after him, but he turned every single one of them down.

I was no exception.

But instead of backing off, I started plotting something else.

If sweet-talking didn't work, maybe a little pressure would.

I secretly looked into Alex's background.

His dad died young, his mom had been bedridden for years, and his relatives all kept their distance.

He'd been working part-time since he was a kid, and even now, he could only pay for college with loans and his own jobs.

The day Alex got the notice that his mom was critically ill, I made the boldest move of my life. I offered to pay for her surgery and made him agree to be my boyfriend for ten years.

I didn't think there was anything wrong with it. My dad bought my mom's beauty and youth with money, so I figured I'd do the same.

But Alex couldn't accept a deal like that.

He kept saying the money was a loan, and after we got together, he barely touched my money.

To everyone else, his pride was only worth that much.

Five years into our relationship, my dad forced me to marry the family's chosen match in my sister's place.

I asked Alex to meet me, ready to end this ridiculous relationship ahead of schedule.

He asked, "Why?"

I didn't tell him the real reason.

I said, "I've had enough. I'm marrying a rich heir who's actually from my world now."

When he didn't buy it, I went straight for the jugular, warning him that a guy like him shouldn't go dreaming about landing someone he could never have.

When we broke up, he handed me a small box and a bank card.

I gave him a wedding invitation, letting him know the ceremony was set for next Wednesday, and he could come have a drink if he wanted.

"Thanks, but I'll pass. Hope you find happiness." That was the last thing he ever said to me.

*****

Earlier this year, I heard about a partner at one of those elite law firms who was blowing up abroad. The big bosses back home were all scrambling to bring him back. They said his name was Alex Quinn.

Alex really did study law at Westhood University. If I hadn't stepped in and basically bought his freedom, this was exactly the kind of life he should've had.

Watching him now, totally owning the high society game, I felt a thousand sharp pains prickling my heart.

But there was no turning back, and regret wasn't an option for me.

Even if I could go back to that time, I know I'd still make the same choice.

For my mom and my sister, even knowing that marrying some playboy heir with every vice under the sun would only lead to heartbreak, I'd still do it all over again without hesitation.

After Alex walked out of my life, I found myself always looking for someone who reminded me of him, even when I didn't realize it.

There was this new actor on screen whose eyes and brows looked a bit like Alex's, but his try-hard, phony grin rubbed me the wrong way. Alex would never be that shallow, so I figured this guy shouldn't be either.

That totally turned me off, and I stopped following that actor.

There was this new waiter at the club with those heart-shaped lips that looked as kissable as Alex's, but he was always angling for luxury watches and fancy cars, acting all aloof like he didn't care about money or status.

Alex would never play both sides like that.

So I lost interest in that waiter pretty quickly.