Chapter 3

Ivy stood at the door, keeping a tally of everything being carried out.

"Look sharp, don't miss anything. Otherwise Mr. Harding's home could be stripped bare and sold off without him ever knowing."

I stood off to the side, awkward and helpless, with no right to stop any of it.

After they left, I stared at the empty rooms and let out a bitter laugh.

A year ago, when I first arrived here, Denys had picked out everything himself.

Back then, he'd just rescued me from my gambling-addicted father.

"From now on, you're mine. You'll never have to be afraid of money again."

He'd meant every word. His promise had been so sincere, so full of conviction, that I believed him without hesitation.

But now I couldn't help wondering if I'd chosen the wrong path from the very beginning.

A local job listing pushed a notification to my phone.

Bartender needed. $400 a day.

If I kept the job under the radar for a month, I'd have enough money for the abortion.

When I went in for the interview, the bar manager saw how sincere I was and decided to hire me on the spot. I'd start in three days.

As I walked out of the bar, I pulled out my phone to text Rebecca.

I hadn't even finished typing when my stomach suddenly heaved, my vision went black, and I collapsed.

When I opened my eyes again, I was already in the hospital.

A young nurse saw me stir and was adding something to my IV with a syringe.

"You've been malnourished for a long time. This is a nutrient drip."

"I've never seen a pregnant woman faint from hunger before. Where's your husband? This is beyond irresponsible."

I clutched the corner of the blanket, my voice flat. "I don't have a husband."

After she heard that, a flicker of pity crossed her face.

"The baby's innocent. You really can't punish yourself like this."

I nodded—I'd thought that with the baby, I wouldn’t be hungry anymore.

But on the day I was discharged, I called Denys three times, and he hung up every time.

There was no other choice. I had to borrow money from Rebecca to pay the hospital bill.

She transferred it to me without a word.

"You passed out and Denys still won't look after you and your baby?! Let him go to hell!"

"I absolutely have to go and teach him a lesson!"

I hurried to stop her.

"Rebecca, let me handle it myself, please."

"I'll contact him tonight about the baby."

What surprised me was that when I got home, Denys was there too.

He was carrying dishes out from the kitchen and didn't seem particularly happy to see me come back.

"How is there nothing to eat in this house? Is this how you've been living?"

Before he could finish, the thick smell of grease sent me rushing to the bathroom to throw up.

He followed behind me, and upon seeing my condition, asked with concern.

"What's wrong? You look awful."

He handed me a glass of water. "Since when did you get so delicate?"

I took the glass, rinsed my mouth, and only then felt a little better.

"Give me some money."

The air froze for a few seconds before Denys let out a scoffing laugh.

"So all this fuss, and you just want money?"

"Those three calls today, those were about money too?"

I braced myself against the wall and stood up.

"Yes."

Denys looked at me, his eyes cold as ice.

"You really never change. For money, there's nothing you won't do."

He snatched up his coat and paused at the door.

"I'll have Ivy transfer the money to you."

Then he slammed the door hard behind him, the bang reverberating through the house.

I didn't know how long it was before I made my way to the dining table.

On it sat roast beef, my favorite.

But looking at them now only turned my stomach.

Early the next morning, I got a message from Ivy.

"Mrs. Harding, you’ll never be satisfied. Demanding money without restraint like this will only make Mr. Harding despise you more."