Chapter 2

The moment the big screen lit up, all the blood in my body went cold.

On the screen was a surveillance screenshot from the hotel corridor.

In the image, I wore a red dress, exposing large areas of skin.

My steps were unsteady, half my body leaning against Jason Smith.

Most glaring of all, from this angle, my hand appeared to be actively draped over his shoulder.

The gallery erupted in an uproar.

Ethan raised his hand, pointing at the screen.

"Please observe, ladies and gentlemen. Ms. Hart not only failed to scream for help, her body was even cooperating with my client's movements."

"This is clearly playing hard to get."

My throat tightened, filled with the taste of blood.

"I didn't! I was drugged. I didn't even have the strength to speak."

"I said no."

Ethan looked up at me, then quickly averted his gaze.

His voice turned cold, as if forcefully suppressing his emotions.

"Drugged?"

"Ms. Hart, a woman dressed like a prostitute in the middle of the night, drunk out of her mind, voluntarily entering a hotel with a young man."

"What gives you the right to claim you were forced?"

A roar exploded in my ears. I felt like I was being stripped naked in public.

Ethan's body stiffened imperceptibly for a moment.

His gaze fell on my ashen face.

In that instant, I saw his Adam's apple bob.

As if he finally realized what he had just said.

But soon, he looked away.

He remained the calm, ruthlessly effective defense attorney.

I bit my lip hard, my mouth filling with the taste of blood.

That red dress was a gift from Lily.

She had said, "Clara, you always dress too plainly. Tonight is Ethan's celebration dinner. You should dazzle him."

I hadn't wanted to wear it.

It was Ethan who personally helped me zip it up.

He had laughed softly then.

"My wife looks most beautiful in a red dress. Clara, don't always worry about people looking at you. You're gorgeous."

But now, he said I dressed like a streetwalker.

I looked at him, suddenly finding him utterly foreign.

Like someone was forcing the nightmare from seven years ago back onto me.

Back then, I was a newcomer in the workplace, nearly sexually assaulted by my boss.

When everyone was saying I must have been "seducing my boss to climb the ladder."

It was Ethan who personally told me it wasn't my fault.

The opposing lawyer had pointed at my nose.

"Ms. Hart, why didn't you scream immediately?"

"Why didn't you flee the office at once?"

"Were you actually just being coy?"

It was him who stood up to shield me.

"Objection!"

"You cannot deny the harm my client suffered just because she didn't resist in the way you imagine."

That day, I cried uncontrollably in court.

Because finally, someone was telling everyone.

I wasn't at fault. I was just afraid.

But today, the perpetrator had become his first love's younger brother.

So Ethan personally forced the words "you deserved it" down on me.