Chapter 3

Manuel’s tone was incredibly harsh.

Hathaway looked up, staring at him with wide, tearful eyes. She choked out his name in a trembling whisper: "Manuel..."

The moment that name left her lips, I felt Manuel’s grip on my hand tighten painfully.

He didn't say another word, his face darkening as he glared at her.

From start to finish, Hathaway never once looked at me. Her tear-filled eyes were locked entirely on Manuel.

"Manuel... some people threw me out of their car and left me up here..."

"Can you please drive me down?"

Her voice was barely a whisper, her shoulders shaking violently.

If I were Manuel, I probably would have felt a twinge of pity.

But Manuel didn't show any mercy. Instead, he sneered coldly, "So the great heiress of the Miller family has finally met her match? What, did you lose your legs? Can't walk down yourself?"

The sky had gone completely dark, and Manuel's words were honestly borderline cruel.

If he had spoken to any other girl like that, I would have scolded him.

But the woman standing before us was Hathaway—the woman my fiancé had spent years in a passionate, toxic cycle with.

Driven by selfish human nature, I chose to remain silent.

Hathaway looked as if she might collapse at any moment. After a few agonizing seconds, she let out a shattered, hollow laugh.

"You really hate me that much, don't you..."

Manuel’s expression flickered. He squeezed my hand so hard it felt like my bones were going to crush.

I let out a soft gasp of pain, which finally jolted him back to the realization that I was still standing right next to him.