Chapter 2

Julian froze, speechless for a moment.

"Fine, don't apologize if you don't want to. Just don't overthink this. I already pushed the wedding back by three days."

He grabbed his phone and headed straight for the bathroom.

The sound of running water echoed, followed by the man's muffled, heavy breathing.

Years ago, when I first arrived in Miami, someone spiked my drink at a party, and Julian was the one who rescued me.

Back then, he swore he would marry me and never take advantage of me.

Turns out, people are just devils wearing human skin; you can never truly know their hearts.

Even lying in bed, I could clearly hear the words spilling from his lips through the bathroom door.

"Chloe... my sweet Chloe..."

Faint, breathy moans of a young girl drifted from his phone speaker.

Julian's voice was hoarse with lust.

"Good girl... tilt the camera lower..."

It felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. I dug my fingernails violently into the palms of my hands.

Ha. Julian, you make me sick.

With a sweeping motion, I knocked a glass off the nightstand. It shattered, and the shards sliced open my hand, but I didn't even flinch at the blood.

Hearing the crash, Julian hurried out of the bathroom, frantically hanging up the video call.

Water droplets slid down his toned abs, and an unnatural flush lingered on his face.

Noticing the blood on my hand, he rushed to grab the first aid kit.

"Bite me if it hurts," he said softly, pinching my cheek with affectionate helplessness.

"Next time you want to shower together, just tell me. Don't be as clumsy as you used to be and hurt yourself. It breaks my heart."

Whenever I got mad, he always brushed it off with this gentle act.

The worry on his face seemed so genuine, his hands bandaging my cut with such tenderness.

Suddenly, it hit me who Chloe reminded me of whenever she caused trouble.

She was the spitting image of who I used to be.

I swallowed the rising nausea in my throat.

In the next second, his phone lit up. The contact name on the lock screen—[Troublemaker Chloe]—stung my eyes like acid.

He glanced at it, ignored it, and continued dressing my wound.

Not getting a response, Chloe bombarded him with text after text.

[Boss, save me! I accidentally broke the DJ mixer at the club! T_T]

[Can you please rescue your little Chloe?]

Julian's expression softened.

Yet his grip on my hand tightened abruptly, making me wince in pain—a detail he completely failed to notice.

His eyes remained glued to his phone screen as he quickly typed a reply with one hand, a fond smile on his face: [Not right now.]

[But the manager says if I can't pay for it, I have to work it off as an escort... "cries" Never mind, it's so late. I'll just handle it myself...]

Julian sprang to his feet.

The cotton swab on my hand was still soaked in blood, but his eyes never looked at me again.

Panic was written all over his face. "Chloe's in trouble. I have to go right now."

"Just finish wrapping it yourself..."

Watching his hurried back as he rushed out the door, I didn't cry, nor did I scream.

I pretended not to hear the breathless moans that had just drifted from the bathroom.

In three days, I would be gone for good.

Julian didn't come home that night.

He didn't even remember that the next day was our five-year anniversary.

He only spared a moment to text me.

[Things got crazy late last night, so I didn't come home. Went straight to the bar to work.]

[You know I need to save up to marry you.]

I stared blankly at his text, a sudden wave of detachment washing over me.

Lies. All of it.