Chapter 3

"Fiona? Seriously?!"

His crocodile tears stopped instantly. Carter let out a gasp of pure excitement.

But he quickly caught himself. He held my face in his hands, putting on his best act of a deeply devoted, tormented husband.

"Babe, are you really willing to do this with Wyatt? Back in college, he..."

I sobbed, burying my face in his shoulder.

"Carter, for you, for our family, I’ll give up everything."

But Carter suddenly grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back. His dull, fish-like eyes turned cold and vicious, like a viper watching its prey.

"Oh? Really?"

My heart squeezed. Cold sweat broke out across my back. I had to play this perfectly.

I gritted my teeth, summoned every ounce of my strength, and slapped him hard across the face.

His head snapped to the side.

Before he could react, I turned to the vanity table. With a sweep of my arm, I knocked all my makeup bottles and perfume onto the floor. They shattered with loud, sharp crashes.

I stomped my feet, pounding the table and screaming at the top of my lungs.

"If you hadn’t been stupid enough to let Wyatt scam you, would we even be in this mess?! And now you’re doubting me? What do you think I am? Do you think I’m some desperate slut who can’t wait to crawl into the bed of the guy who tried to rape me in college?!"

"I’m sorry, Fiona! Please, don’t be mad. It’s my fault, it’s all my fault."

Carter rushed up behind me, pinning my flailing arms to my sides.

After a few minutes of screaming, I gradually quieted down. I could feel his body trembling against mine—not with fear, but with excitement.

Ha.

The urge to vomit grew stronger.

I had almost forgotten. This violent, hysterical reaction was exactly what a normal woman would do upon hearing such a disgusting proposal. That was the only way to make him believe me.

Once Carter managed to calm me down, I went to the bathroom to put on my makeup and get dressed.

He sat at the edge of the bed, staring at me without blinking. He looked like a rabid dog drooling over a juicy bone.

Even when I went to the bathroom, he stood right outside the door, refusing to leave me out of his sight for even a second.

He still didn't trust me.

We were husband and wife. Why was he so obsessed with seeing me destroyed?

But it didn't matter. Someone who has already died once doesn't care about the 'why.'

I just wanted both of them to suffer a fate worse than death.

After putting on a tight, elegant dress, I did a slow spin in front of him.

"Babe, honestly... you didn't have to dress up so pretty for him," Carter said.

I looked up. In his eyes, I saw a bizarre mixture of emotions—jealousy, disgust, and deep, dark hatred.

He was acting jealous now?

What a pathetic hypocrite.

"Carter—"

I took a panicked step forward and threw myself onto my knees at his feet, grabbing his jeans.

"Carter, you don’t actually want me to go, do you? I won't go! Let's not do this, please! We can pay off the debt together. We can sell the house, I can work three jobs... I’ll do anything, just please don’t make me go!"

The moment I mentioned selling the house and paying the debt, Carter's face twisted.

"Fiona, how could I be mad at you? I know you're doing this for me. You're doing this to save our family."