Chapter 3

Scarlett Sanders' POV

“What did you say?”

Julian snapped his head up, his smug, teasing eyes instantly narrowing. He glared at me as if he had just heard something entirely unbelievable.

In the script he had written in his head, I was supposed to burst into tears, throw myself at his feet, and beg him for another chance. How could I say “agree” in such a calm, almost relieved tone?

“I said, I agree to call off the engagement,” I repeated, looking him dead in the eye. “Julian, we're done.”

Julian's breathing instantly grew heavy and ragged.

“Scarlett Sanders, who do you think you're playing hard-to-get with?” Julian bolted upright, lunging forward to grab my wrist. His grip was so tight it felt like he might crush my bones. “Have you forgotten how you used to beg me like a dog? Stop acting so high and mighty!”

Despite the agonizing pain in my wrist, I didn't struggle. I simply stared at him as if he were a complete stranger. “Let go.”

That cold, lifeless gaze seemed to pierce Julian's pride. Just as he was about to blow up, Chloe spoke up from the side.

“Julian, don't be mad.” Chloe walked over and wrapped her arm around Julian's in a fake show of comfort, though her eyes locked onto my flat stomach. “Ms. Sanders threw up so hard just now... Could she be pregnant with someone else's kid and in a rush to find a husband, which is why she's calling off the engagement?”

Those words were like a drop of water splashed into a vat of boiling oil.

Julian's pupils dilated instantly as a wave of sheer malice surged in his eyes. He glared at me.

“You're pregnant? Whose is it?!”

He didn't give me a chance to explain. Then again, his pathological paranoia never required proof. All he knew was that whatever belonged to him—even if it were just a dog—was never allowed to be tainted by another man's scent!

“You're a psychopath!” I violently shook off his grip, turning to leave.

“Stop her!” Julian barked.

The bodyguards waiting outside rushed in immediately, pinning me down.

“Take her to the hospital,” Julian ordered, his voice cold as a venomous blade. “Now! Find out if she's pregnant!”

My eyes widened in pure shock. I looked at the man I had loved for ten years in utter disbelief.

“Julian, you're insane! This is an insult!” I struggled violently, but it was useless.

Half an hour later, I was forced into a gynecological examination room at the hospital. The cold instruments, the glaring surgical lights, and the strange looks from the doctors and nurses stripped my dignity away layer by layer, grinding it into the dirt.

When I finally walked out of the hospital entrance clutching the negative pregnancy report, what awaited me wasn't an apology from Julian, but a barrage of flashing cameras and a tidal wave of reporters.

“Ms. Sanders, we heard you came for a late-night gynecological exam. Was it because Mr. Foster discovered your messy private life?”

“Ms. Sanders, did Mr. Foster call off the engagement again because you cheated on him?”

“Ms. Sanders, how do you respond to being labeled a slut by New York's high society?”

Malice, ridicule, and insults pelted me like a rain of bullets. My face was paper-white, my fingers gripping the medical report so tightly that my nails dug deep into my palms.

Julian's car was parked not far away. He sat inside, watching coldly as the reporters swarmed around me, leaving me helpless and stranded.

Only when I was on the verge of being knocked down by the crowd did Julian finally open his car door. Flanked by a squad of bodyguards, he walked over and pulled me into the vehicle.

The door slammed shut, cutting off the noise outside.

Julian looked at my pale face and sneered. “I saw the report. Good to see you're still obedient enough not to cheat behind my back.”

I closed my eyes, refusing to spare him even a glance.

“But,” Julian suddenly leaned in, squeezing my chin. His voice was freezing. “Just because you didn't cheat this time doesn't mean you won't in the future. Scarlett, I want you to write a letter of commitment. Swear you will never betray me, that you will belong only to me for the rest of your life — or face death.”

He pulled out a pre-printed document and a pen from the side and tossed them onto my lap.

“Sign it, and I'll act as if tonight never happened. I'll consider that you passed the 999th test.”