Chapter 4

His gaze fell to my stomach, where a life once bloomed.

But to push Blake away from an oncoming car, I fell in that accident.

When I woke up, the doctor told me I would never be able to have children.

At the time, Blake had gently cared for me until I emerged from the shadow of losing our child.

He even got a vasectomy. He told me, "Aurora, I won't let anyone else carry my child but you."

Turns out, it was all a lie.

A malicious glint flickered in Chloe's eyes. She walked over, feigning concern as she pulled Blake's hand away. "Blake, don't be like that…"

Her gaze, however, fell on a painting in the corner of the room.

It was my father's last work, the only keepsake my parents left me.

"Oh, this painting is beautiful! Is it an original?" Chloe sounded like she'd discovered treasure, reaching out to touch it.

"Don't you dare touch it with your filthy hands!" I snapped, my voice sharp.

Chloe flinched, startled by my outburst, and looked at Blake, wronged. "Blake, I… I just wanted to see it."

Blake lovingly wrapped her in his arms, then glared at me. "What's wrong with looking at it? It's just a worthless painting, isn't it?"

"Chloe likes it, so I'll give it to her!"

"You wouldn't dare!" My blood boiled instantly.

"Watch me." Blake sneered, telling Chloe, "Chloe, look all you want. If you like it, take it."

With Blake's silent permission, Chloe's boldness grew.

She walked up to the painting, extending her hand with its bright red nail polish, and lightly dragged a finger across the face of the main figure in the artwork.

I watched, horrified, as a glaring white scratch appeared on the precious canvas.

"No—!"

That was the last memory my father left me, the most precious treasure in my world.

Now, it was ruined.

Ruined by the man I loved most and the woman I hated most, working together.

I rushed over, kneeling before the painting, stroking the wound. Tears streamed down my face, and my heart shattered completely in that moment.

"It's just a painting. Is it really that big of a deal? I can always buy you another one."

"Buy? With what?"

Seeing my endless tears, Blake lost his patience. "You're acting crazy. Crying over a broken painting like this."

"I think you're just intentionally trying to keep Chloe from staying here…"

He checked his phone, seeing a newly received message. The next second, his face instantly turned dark.

Lewd, disturbing audio blasted from his phone.

He glared furiously at me, then slammed his phone down in front of me. The screen was playing a video.

It was footage of me being drugged and assaulted in Paris.

In the video, my clothes were disheveled, my eyes glazed over, surrounded by several men whose faces were blurred.

They were touching me inappropriately, and I seemed to not resist.

The video had been maliciously edited, with the beginning and end cut out, leaving only the most suggestive clips.

My original struggles and screams were replaced with seductive music.

My pained, distorted expressions, in the dim light, were twisted into a perverted scene of supposed pleasure.

My brain buzzed, turning blank.

This was my deepest nightmare, a hell I would rather die than revisit.

How did Blake get this video?!

"Aurora Hayes! You absolute slut, how could you do something like this behind my back?!"

My lips trembled, but not a single word came out.

How could I explain?

Say it wasn't real? Say I was framed? Would he believe me?