Sabrina's POV
From afar, I could read Tyrone’s lips saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she’s delivered to your bed.”
Watching the two of them act like brothers reminded me of the many times I had delivered lunchboxes to him at work.
At first, I’d prepare his lunch early in the morning, and he'd bring it along with him to the company and just heat it up there. But then, he started asking me to bring it to his office instead. That was how I met his boss, Mr. Allen.
Back then, I thought Mr. Allen’s constant staring was just a cultural difference, chalking it up to foreign openness and curiosity. But today, I realized how naive I had been.
Tyrone, to get ahead, you’re really planning to hand me over to this man? Fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll play along.
“Sweetheart, Mr. Allen’s very impressed with you,” Tyrone said excitedly. “Tonight, you’ve got to go all out. I’m already halfway into management, and soon, all the wealth and glory will be yours.” He grinned. “Just make sure Mr. Allen is well taken care of tonight.”
Hearing his repeated urging, I calmly agreed, pretending to go along with it.
Thrilled, he pulled out his bank card and handed it to me. “Use it freely! Get some high-end ingredients for dinner tonight.”
I smiled subtly, the kind of smile that concealed too much. Before returning home, I made sure to set everything up exactly as I planned.
Ever since Tyrone started climbing the corporate ladder, Mr. Allen had become a frequent guest at our home. As Tyrone’s position grew higher, their camaraderie only deepened. Even when Tyrone was working late, Mr. Allen would sometimes drop by on his own, always bringing some excuse or token of goodwill.
“Sabrina, your husband’s working late, so he asked me to bring you these little cakes. I heard you like them.”
“Since Tyrone is on a business trip, he was worried about you and asked me to take you out for a nice dinner.”
“The company’s been really stressful lately. But since Tyrone was away, maybe you could come out for a drink with me? I just need someone to talk to.”
I knew exactly what Mr. Allen was after, and I also wanted to see just how far Tyrone would let this go.
If Mr. Allen wanted my company, I would give it. If he needed someone to listen to, I would become all ears.
Tyrone and Mr. Allen must’ve thought I had come to terms with everything because they became bolder and more brazen with their actions.
“Sweetheart, I could smell that delicious cooking from the doorway,” Tyrone said one evening as he walked in with an expensive gift box in hand. Pulling me to the couch, he opened the box and revealed its contents.
“These are for you—a new outfit. Wear it tonight when Mr. Allen comes over.” He smiled proudly. “You’ve always been so beautiful, even since you were little. Tonight, let Mr. Allen see just how elegant you are.”
Inside the box was a revealing lingerie set, the kind I’d never worn even in front of him. My heart sank as I stared at it.
So, this is it, Tyrone. You’re really trying to gift me to him, aren’t you?
“Alright,” I said lightly. “I’ll change into it later.”
His face lit up with barely concealed excitement. He grabbed a few bottles of wine from the cabinet and set them on the table.
“Sweetheart, I even bought Lafite for tonight. I know you don’t like drinking, but tonight’s special. It has to be grand.”
I watched him practically buzz with anticipation, eager to hand me over. I smiled.
My thoughts then drifted to our wedding day. I remembered the toasts, how Tyrone had wrapped his arm protectively around me, declaring with authority, “Sabrina doesn’t drink. Don't insist her to, I’ll just drink on her behalf.”
That night, he drank until his stomach bled. I spent hours at the hospital, crying as I held his hand. He had looked at me through bleary, drunken eyes and whispered, “Sweetheart, I’ll never let you suffer. Not even for a second.”
That same man, who once bound his heart to mine, was now ready to trade me for power and status.
Snapping back to reality, I met his expectant gaze.
