Chapter 8

When Marcus learned I'd secretly had an abortion, his anger morphed into something far more complex.

For a moment, I thought he wanted to strangle me. But then, reason seemed to pull him back.

He hated me, hated me for killing his child.

Disappointment, confusion, sadness, and even a flicker of fear flashed in his eyes.

His thoughts tangled, making his dark eyes seem even deeper, but in the end, it all just turned to ice.

He roared in fury, slamming his fist into the wall beside my head, drawing blood.

He gasped for air, so consumed by hatred he probably wanted to kill me, but all he could do was gasp.

I thought, with things like this, we could finally end it all.

But who would have thought? Instead of letting me go, he held me captive in the hotel.

He kept me there, refusing to let me see anyone or contact the outside world.

Then, one night, he appeared, completely wasted, and took me roughly.

—His fierceness felt like it was tearing me apart.

And after that, he came every day.

Every day, he acted like he wanted me dead.

As if all his pain and hatred needed to be released this way.

He'd attend events with beautiful young women on his arm, but he refused to end things with me.

It was his twisted way of constantly trampling my dignity, watching me helpless as people ridiculed me, treating me like an idiot.

I tried to break up, he refused.

Every time I tried to sneak away, his bodyguards and Ben would block me.

That lasted for six months, until the news of Isabelle's divorce broke.