Still working as a hotel reviewer. The last person I expected to walk into was Jim Gilbert—with Valerie right beside him.
Valerie's voice dripped with mock sweetness：
“What's this, sis? Did you follow us here?”
Jim frowned, his gaze dropping to the fresh calluses on my hands. Something darkened behind his eyes.
“I gave you my card. Why aren't you using it?”
“Oh, Jim—why would she touch your money? She'd never be able to walk away from you then, would she?”
Jim drew a deep breath：
“Mia, I'm never breaking up with you.”
He turned to leave.
Valerie slapped herself hard across the face, then clutched her cheek and burst into tears.
She dropped to her knees in front of me with a thud：
“I'm sorry, sis. I'll leave Jim right now. Please stop hitting me.”
Jim whipped around, instantly furious：
“Mia! What the hell did you do!”
He stared at me, fists clenched, barely holding himself back.
“Your father just died. I'm giving you a chance because of that. Apologize to Valerie, and I'll let it go.”
I snapped：
“In your dreams! Jim, I didn't even touch……”
“Jim, I'm so scared. Look at her face—she's terrifying, like she's going to eat me alive……”
Valerie kept pouring it on, and my refusal to apologize did exactly what she wanted. Jim's anger ignited.
He seized my wrist and dragged me into his hotel suite.
He got a rope from somewhere, tied me to a chair facing the master bed.
I tried to explain. He gagged me.
He sent a bodyguard to check, but the answer came back cold：
“Sorry, sir. Ms. Summers is not an employee of this hotel.”
Jim was livid：
“Mia, you lied to me?”
He ripped the love lock from his neck, his voice cracking with fury：
“Remember what the master said? The one who lies first—they never get to spend their life with the other. Never!”
I laughed. Cold, bitter.
You lied to me first, Jim.
The angrier he got, the worse it became：
“You wanted to watch, Mia? Then keep your eyes open. Learn how a woman is supposed to please a man.”
Tied to that chair, I went numb. Valerie's breathy moans filled the room while I invented a thousand ways to die.
Every single one of them was for Jim Gilbert.
“Tomorrow's my wedding with Valerie. You'll be the bridesmaid.”
“Hey! Did you hear me!”
My legs had gone dead. I stumbled upright, unable to tell where I was.
Back home, I ran a bath, desperate to wash the day off my skin.
The bathroom door slammed open. Valerie.
Her face still carried the flush of what she'd just done with him. She smiled and tossed a hair dryer into the tub.
“Ahhh——”
I screamed. Valerie laughed harder.
“Idiot. It's not even plugged in.”
I was shaking, barely conscious, but Valerie's face drained white in an instant.
Jim walked in, drawn by the noise, brow tight.
“Mia, why are you bleeding?”
I looked down. Red everywhere—blooming through the bathwater, swallowing everything in sight.
A miscarriage. The fright had killed it.
I doubled over the edge of the tub, hands clutching my lower belly, the pain bleaching my face and wrenching through me in waves.
Jim's expression froze for just a second.
“Mia, you don't need to put on an act to keep me.”
Right then, Valerie let out a shriek：
“Jim! I got electrocuted!”
The hands he'd reached out to pick me up pulled back. He turned and scooped Valerie into his arms instead.
“Wait there. I'll call an ambulance for you!”
He carried Valerie out without looking back.
