Chapter 3

Less than a minute after I sent the message, Ethan's FaceTime call came through.

I took a deep breath and pressed the answer button.

On the screen, Ethan wore a neat shirt, gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. The background was clearly his law firm office.

"Anya, what's with that bizarre screenshot you sent?"

He frowned slightly, a hint of helplessness in his voice.

"I've been at the firm all night reviewing case files, I haven't even had dinner. Are you overworked lately, starting to overthink again?"

He turned the camera around. Files were piled on his desk; he was indeed alone.

Seeing the bloodshot eyes, my tense nerves suddenly relaxed, and a wave of immense guilt washed over me.

"I'm sorry, Ethan. I just... the scar on that person's hand looked so much like yours."

"Silly," he smiled gently.

"All scars pretty much look the same. Get some sleep. I'll be home soon."

In the middle of the night, there was a faint sound from the front door.

Ethan hugged me from behind, whispering in my ear.

"Anya, happy birthday."

"Honey, I missed you so much."

An indescribable impulse surged through me. I turned and climbed onto him, actively kissing his lips.

Ethan stiffened for a moment but quickly responded with fervor.

We kissed and caressed in the darkness; everything was going incredibly smoothly.

Just as I thought we could finally overcome that obstacle, Ethan suddenly pushed me away as if electrified.

He stumbled into the bathroom, and immediately, heart-wrenching sounds of vomiting echoed from inside.

I lay stiffly on the bed, his warmth still lingering on my body, but tears silently soaked into my pillow.

Immense feelings of hurt and humiliation enveloped me.

Sure enough, it still wasn't possible. I wouldn't force him anymore...

The next day, I composed myself and, as agreed, returned to Chloe Miller's apartment to finish the remaining work.

Chloe was in exceptionally good spirits today, wearing a sexy slip dress and chatting with me.

"Yesterday was quite a scare, but we got away with it. My boyfriend's shrew of a fiancée almost found us!"

My hands, folding clothes, paused.

She giggled and continued to boast.

"But my boyfriend is so smart. To placate that stupid woman, he just took me right there to his office!"

"You wouldn't believe how thrilling it was on the office desk. While he was on a FaceTime call with his fiancée, I was 'helping' him under the desk."

My mind went blank.

I quickly pulled out my phone and opened the screenshot of my FaceTime call with Ethan last night.

I zoomed in on the image, then zoomed in more.

Finally, in the shadow at the bottom right corner of Ethan's desk, I saw a scrap of pink lace dress.

Exactly like the one Chloe was wearing right now!

"Oh, what are you looking at?"

Chloe leaned closer, her gaze falling on my phone screen.

She first froze, then the innocent look on her face instantly faded.

She scrutinized me from head to toe, then covered her mouth as if suddenly realizing.

"Oh, so you're the fiancée who got raped, huh?"

"What was your name again? Anya Hayes, right?"

My body went cold. I stared fixedly at her.

Chloe curled her lips and decided to just lay it all out.

"Do you really think that hero-saving-the-damsel-in-distress act three years ago was destined by fate?"

My heart clenched.

"What do you mean?"