Chapter 5

Cherry POV

The next day, Ethan used the gallery as an excuse and didn't come home all day.

I knew he was with Vivian.

I methodically packed my luggage. Actually, there wasn't much to pack. Everything in this villa was bought by Ethan. I didn't want to take a single item.

I only took my passport and the utility knife I'd always carried with me.

At ten p.m., Ethan came home reeking of alcohol and faint perfume.

"Cherry, still awake?" Ethan loosened his tie and walked to the sofa, habitually trying to rest his head on my lap.

I subtly avoided him and stood up. "I'll run you a bath."

Ethan froze, watching my cold retreating figure, probably feeling an inexplicable irritation rising in his chest.

These past few days, I'd been too obedient. So well-behaved it was abnormal.

No acting cute, no clinging to him, even the look in my eyes when I looked at him carried the stillness of dead water.

He strode over and grabbed my wrist, pinning me against the bathroom doorframe.

"Cherry, what exactly are you sulking about?" He looked down at me, his eyes sinister. "I've already taken the paintings. The exhibition is about to start. Are you planning to pull some stunt?"

He was gripping me so hard my bones ached, but I didn't struggle.

I looked up, meeting his eyes directly, and suddenly smiled. "Ethan, do you have paranoia? What stunt could I possibly pull? I'm just tired."

"Tired?" Ethan sneered and roughly tore open my collar. "If you're tired, let's do something relaxing."

He lowered his head and kissed me brutally, with the intent to punish, roughly biting my lips.

I didn't resist, letting him manipulate me like a puppet.

This dead-fish response completely enraged Ethan.

He shoved me away violently, his eyes full of disgust. "Buzzkill."

With that, he turned and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door with a bang.

I leaned against the wall, wiping the blood from the corner of my mouth, my eyes cold as if frozen in ice.

Ethan, this is the last time you'll ever touch me.

Vivian's exhibition was set at New York's largest private art museum.

The night before the opening ceremony, Ethan came home unusually early.

He was carrying an exquisite gift box containing a custom haute couture gown worth a fortune.

"Cherry, wear this to the exhibition tomorrow." He placed the gown on the bed, his tone carrying an unquestionable command.

I didn't even glance at the dress, asking flatly, "In what capacity? Your girlfriend, or... Vivian's ghostwriter?"

Ethan's face darkened, his eyes instantly turning sharp.

"What nonsense are you spouting?" He stepped forward, staring hard into my eyes, trying to find any flaw. "Who told you about the ghostwriting?"

"Does anyone need to tell me?" I met his gaze fearlessly, my lips curving in a mocking smile. "Ethan, did you really think I was an idiot? I saw the planning document on your computer ages ago."

The air seemed to freeze in that moment.

A flash of panic crossed Ethan's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by icy killing intent.

He suddenly grabbed my throat and slammed me against the wall.

"You snooped through my computer?!" His voice was distorted with rage. "Cherry, you've got some nerve!"

The sensation of suffocation instantly overwhelmed me. My face flushed red, but I didn't struggle. I just stared at him hard, my eyes full of contempt and mockery.

"What? Exposed and now you're lashing out in humiliation?" I squeezed the words painfully from my throat. "Ethan, you disgust me."