Chapter 4

"Did you hear me talking to you? Are you trying to ruin your sister's engagement party?"

Her sharp heel ground viciously into my knuckles.

My left ear had recovered a tiny bit of hearing, just in time to catch her shrill curses.

"Mom, let it go."

Melody walked down the stairs, holding Xavier's arm.

They really were inseparable now.

Melody walked over and gently pulled Mrs. Sinclair back, acting like a sweet, understanding angel.

"Eva hasn't had it easy lately. Even though she has a bad reputation for drinking and strip-dancing for men at VIP lounges, she's just trying to survive."

When Xavier heard "drinking and strip-dancing," his expression darkened.

He was the one who had forced me to do those things.

"Take your trash and get out."

Ignoring the blood dripping from the back of my hand, I grabbed my clothes and the pill bottle, turning to leave.

Just as I reached the foyer, a sudden, blinding headache struck.

It felt as though someone were drilling into my brain with a power tool.

My knees buckled, and I crashed heavily to the floor.

"Playing victim again?"

Mrs. Sinclair sneered.

"Eva, you've been playing this tragic act for twenty years. Aren't you tired of it?"

A metallic taste rose in my throat, and I bit my lip hard.

I couldn't throw up.

I couldn't spit blood in front of them.

I forced myself to swallow the blood and used the doorframe to pull myself up.

"I won't bother you anymore."

I pushed the door open and stumbled out into the pouring rain.

The cold wind and freezing rain beat against my body, chilling me to the bone.

Once I ran past the gates of the wealthy estate, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I leaned against a trash can on the curb and threw up a massive pool of blood.

The dark red blood mixed with the rainwater, looking terrifying on the wet concrete.

I leaned against the brick wall, gasping for breath, and took out my phone.

I transferred all the money I had saved over the past three years—including the fifty thousand dollars Xavier had thrown at me—to the director of the orphanage who had taken care of me when I was a child.

"Director, please use this money for the kids. I'm going on a long trip, and I don't think I'll be coming back."

After sending the message, I threw my phone into the trash can.

There was nothing left for me in this city.

I found a cheap, remote motel and spent my days swallowing handfuls of cheap painkillers.

My body decayed rapidly.

My vision began to blur, my hearing completely vanished, and my world turned into a dark, silent void.

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

Every night, I would writhe in agony on the cold motel floor.

I dug my fingernails deep into my own flesh until they bled, using the sharp physical pain just to keep myself conscious.

Eventually, I didn't even have the strength to crawl to the sink for a cup of water.

I knew my end was near.

On the last day of my life, I dreamed of Xavier from three years ago.

Back then, he wasn't this cold and heartless.

He was terribly sick, lying in our tiny rented basement, holding my hand tightly as he said:

"Eva, once I get better, I'll marry you."

"I'll make sure you're the happiest girl in New York."

Back then, I smiled like a fool.

For those words, I willingly went to beg his dangerous, mob-connected rival.

I let dozens of men pin me down, break my ribs, beat me until my ear bled, and force me to sign a massive high-interest loan.

But I got the ten million dollars that saved his life.

I went back to him covered in blood. To make sure he would focus on his treatment without worrying about me, I threw the money in his face and slapped him hard.

"Xavier, you're a useless cripple. I'm done playing house with you."

His eyes at that moment looked as desperate and broken as a dying animal.

When I woke up from the dream, my body was twitching with pain.

In the pitch black, I fumbled around and grabbed a small metal box from the nightstand.

Inside was a blood-stained hospital critical condition notice from three years ago, and the loan contract that had long been paid off.

I hugged the metal box tightly against my chest, as if holding onto my ridiculous, short life.

If there is a next life, Xavier... I hope I never meet you again.