Chapter 2

SUMMER'S POV

The gala ended, and the backstage area gradually emptied.

The lounge door opened, and Liam walked in, loosening his tie, a lingering smile still on his face.

Seeing me standing in the shadows, he paused, then his brow furrowed, returning to his usual cold demeanor.

"You saw it all," he said calmly, as if discussing something trivial.

I stared at him, my eyes red, my voice trembling uncontrollably. "Liam, what about me? What was I to you?"

Liam walked to the sofa and sat down, pouring himself a glass of water. "Summer, I was going to tell you this tomorrow. Scarlett is back, and I'm going to marry her."

"What about my seven years?!" I couldn't control myself anymore, screaming hysterically.

Liam put down his glass, his eyes turning cold. "Don't make a scene. Even after I get married, nothing between us has to change. I'll buy you a house in the upscale neighborhood, complete with a driver and housekeeper. As long as you don't bother Scarlett, you can buy whatever you want; you can use my credit card as much as you like."

I felt like I'd been struck by lightning, staring in disbelief at the man I had loved for seven years.

"You want me to be your kept woman?"

Liam's frown deepened, seemingly displeased by the term. "With me around, no one would dare say that to you. Scarlett's health is fragile; she can't handle any stress. Be sensible."

I suddenly laughed, tears streaming down my face.

I reached into my pocket, feeling the crumpled pregnancy test results.

"Liam, you disgust me."

The air in the lounge seemed to solidify.

Liam's face instantly darkened. He shot up, grabbing my wrist, his grip so tight it felt like my bones would shatter.

"Summer Miller, have I indulged you too much, made you forget your place?"

I gasped in pain, but stubbornly lifted my chin, biting my lip to keep from begging.

Just then, the sound of heels approached from outside the door.

"Liam, are you in there?" Scarlett's sickly sweet voice floated in.

Liam's expression shifted. He immediately let go of me, giving me a warning glare. "Keep your mouth shut."

The door pushed open, and Scarlett walked in, adjusting her dress. Seeing me, she feigned surprise, covering her mouth. "Oh, my, who is she?"

"Backstage staff," Liam lied without a flicker of expression, pulling Scarlett into his arms. His voice instantly became incredibly gentle. "Why didn't you wait in the car? It's chaotic backstage, don't trip."

Scarlett leaned into his embrace compliantly, but her gaze flickered over his shoulder, landing on my pale face with a triumphant smirk.

"This young lady doesn't look well, is she sick?" Scarlett's lips curved into a malicious smile.

My stomach churned, and I couldn't stand another second. I turned and stumbled out of the lounge.

Returning to the apartment we'd shared for five years, I moved like a ghost, mechanically pulling out a suitcase and starting to pack.

Everywhere were traces of our life together. Our matching coffee mugs, the sofa we'd picked out together, his razor still in the bathroom...

Each item now felt like a knife twisting in my heart.

I didn't take anything but a few of my old clothes and my identification documents.

The next morning, as I was about to leave with my suitcase, the apartment door lock suddenly turned.

It wasn't Liam who entered, but Scarlett.

She strutted in on ten-centimeter heels, like a victor surveying the apartment, finally letting her gaze fall on my suitcase, and let out a sneer.

"Glad you know your place and when to leave."