"Victor, I didn't see you when I woke up. I missed you so much."
Victor ruffled the top of her hair and leaned down to press a kiss against it.
But even as he did, his gaze stayed fixed on me from the corner of his eye.
When he saw that my expression remained perfectly indifferent, he finally couldn't hold back. His words carried a pointed edge.
"I just love how sweet and attentive Fern is. Unlike some people, who walk around with a permanent scowl, like the whole world owes them a fortune."
With that, he scooped Fern up in his arms and set her back on the bed.
Then he lifted his chin and jerked it in my direction.
"Come here. Put Fern's shoes on for her."
I didn't move.
The two of them sat side by side on the edge of the bed. One wore a smug grin. The other was waiting for a show.
I lowered my eyes as a sudden, sharp sting lanced through my chest.
He'd always been reckless. He went through women like he went through clothes, and no scenario was too outrageous for him to act out.
But he had never humiliated me like this.
That was why, time after time, I'd been furious at his wasted potential yet couldn't help indulging him anyway.
Now, he wanted to grind my face beneath his mistress's feet.
I looked up at him.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Victor, if you actually force me to go through with this, there will be no coming back for us. Not ever."
Something flickered in those eyes that were always so carelessly defiant. A flash of bewilderment.
It was as if he were thinking:
This isn't how it's supposed to go.
I was supposed to charge at him with tears in my eyes, screaming that he was shameless, that he was a bastard.
Then slap him and Fern across the face.
Not stand here like this, calm as still water.
"I—"
He barely got the word out before Fern's silky voice cut in.
"Victor, you're not going soft again, are you? Have you already forgotten what she did to you?"
The confusion in his eyes faded, replaced by that familiar, mocking indifference.
"Get over here. Don't make me say it a third time."
I still didn't move.
My mind kept circling back. What exactly had I done to him that made him so determined to drag me into this twisted game?
Maybe it was the last time he'd pulled one of his rescue-the-damsel stunts. I'd slapped him across the face in front of his whole entourage without a second thought, humiliating him completely.
Or maybe it went further back than that. A deal he'd thrown everything at and still couldn't close, one I'd wrapped up without breaking a sweat.
Or maybe further still. Back in school, when he'd burned the midnight oil until his eyes were bloodshot, only to find my name sitting above his on every final exam ranking.
Embarrassment after embarrassment. Comparison after comparison.
Slowly wearing away every last thread of the bond we'd shared since childhood.
A haze settled over my thoughts.
I remembered a time even earlier, when I was only ten. I'd slipped and fallen into the pool at the Delgado estate.
He was the first one to jump in. He'd nearly killed himself hauling me to the surface.
He'd swallowed so much water that day he passed out. And when he came to, the first words out of his mouth were:
"Is Lorraine okay?"
Now, everything had changed. The place was the same, but the people were strangers.
Thinking of that old debt, the life he'd saved, I walked forward and bent down to pick up the slippers by the bed.
The instant my fingertips touched the edge of the shoe, a rush of air swept past my ear.
Victor kicked my hand away. The force sent me stumbling backward, and I hit the floor hard.
My wrist cracked against the bed frame. I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth.
"Lorraine, you're pathetic!"
He towered over me, chest heaving, glaring down with something churning in his eyes that I couldn't read.
"I told you to do it and you just did it? Since when are you this obedient?"
I braced a hand against the floor and pushed myself to my feet, rubbing my wrist with my eyes cast down.
I had no idea what had set him off this time.
He was the one who'd forced me to do it. I'd done it. And now he was the one who was angry.
