Chapter 4

I lowered my head, looking at the wine stain spreading across my chest, and laughed out loud.

"You schemed your heart out for three whole years. The trash is all yours."

"You're calling Mr. Matthews trash? As if you're worthy?"

Mila raised her hand with a smile.

I lifted my arm to block her, but instead she smiled and slapped herself twice.

She showed herself no mercy, and her cheek went red and swollen in an instant.

"Ah! Ms. Pruitt! Why did you hit me?"

She shrieked, tearing open her own collar, screaming for help.

When Nigel rushed out, he arrived just in time to see her looking utterly wrecked.

He didn't care that this was the women's restroom. He strode straight in and pulled Mila into his arms.

Then he took off his suit jacket and draped it over her, soothing her in a gentle voice.

"I'm here. Don't be afraid."

But when he turned to me, his voice went cold.

"Selina! You're drunk!"

"Apologize to Mila!"

Nigel asked nothing. He simply believed Mila, no conditions attached.

I shook my head and refused.

"I didn't hit her. She threw the wine on me, then staged this whole thing—"

Mila suddenly cried even harder.

"Mr. Matthews, don't blame Ms. Pruitt. It's my fault. I saw Ms. Pruitt reaching for more wine right after she'd thrown up, so I told her to drink less... I spilled her wine so she couldn't have any. I really did deserve to be hit..."

At those words, Nigel abruptly slapped me across the face.

"Selina, are you sober now?"

He pointed at Mila's red, swollen cheek, his voice cold.

"Look at what you've done! If you can't hold your liquor, don't force it! And now look, drunk out of your mind, throwing a fit, making a disgrace of yourself!"

"Don't you know you go crazy when you drink too much? Last time you mistook a client for me and did a striptease in the car. I didn't expose you because I didn't want you humiliated, and now you've hit Mila and you still won't admit it!"

"Are you going to blame the alcohol for this too, the way you did when I caught you in bed with a client? You really think everyone's like me, that they'll put up with your nonsense no matter what?"

If I really were drunk, chances are I'd have echoed whatever he said and apologized to Mila.

But I was clearer than I'd ever been.

Clear enough to see just how worthless I was in his eyes.

Everything I'd sacrificed had become nonsense to him.

It was absurd.

The commotion was loud enough to draw a crowd.

Word spread from one mouth to the next, and in no time everyone knew my sales record had been earned on my back.

People pointed at me and murmured.

"God, a woman like that actually thought she could marry Mr. Matthews? She's not even close to worthy."

Someone chimed in with a sneer.

"She's had plenty of men. She's clearly got her ways."

"What ways? I'd like a couple of turns myself. Is all it takes signing a contract with you?"

Some drunk lecher whistled at me.

The irritation on Nigel's face vanished completely at that whistle.

"Selina! Apologize to Mila! Or the grand finale tonight is canceled!"

He was actually using the proposal to threaten me.

But I didn't care anymore.

"Nigel, we're breaking up."

His face froze, disbelief written all over it.

"You hit someone, and now you're throwing a tantrum and demanding a breakup?"

"I can see you're really drunk, not thinking straight. Since you love drinking and causing scenes so much, tonight I'll let you drink your fill. Let you see what you're like when you're wasted!"

Nigel dragged me hard into the private room and forced liquor down my throat in front of a table full of young women.

No matter how I struggled, he wouldn't let go.

One of the girls couldn't stand to watch and spoke up for me.

"Mr. Matthews, if Ms. Pruitt gets hurt from being force-fed like this, you'll be held responsible!"

Nigel shot her a vicious glare.

"Don't worry. She's my girlfriend. Whatever happens, I'll take responsibility!"