Chapter 4

The phone slipped away from my ear.

I couldn't keep it in any longer. I doubled over beside the bed and retched violently, my whole body convulsing.

When there was nothing left but bile, I fumbled for my phone and called Spencer with trembling hands.

He answered as if he'd been waiting for my call, letting out an impatient sigh.

"The wedding's set for three days from now. Vivian doesn't want to be branded a mistress, so she made that video on purpose."

"Chloe, she's young. Just let her have this one; don't take it to heart."

"As for your job, I can get you an even better position somewhere else. Or, if you'd rather have money, just name your price. I'll make it up to you."

I begged him to tell everyone the truth, my voice shaking. His tone was dripping with irritation, as if he'd already grown tired of hearing me complain.

"Chloe, stop making a scene."

Stop making a scene. One easy sentence, and the future I'd dreamed of for twelve years came crashing down around me.

I hung up, brushed away my tears, then forced myself to write a statement of more than a thousand words setting the record straight.

I attached a copy of our marriage certificate as proof and published the whole thing online.

Three minutes later, my post was taken down after someone reported it.

The reason given: misinformation, spreading rumors, and defamation.

Right after that, Spencer's call came through, his voice tight with barely restrained anger.

"Chloe, do you really have to stoop to fighting with a young girl?"

My heart burned as if someone had poured boiling oil straight into my chest.

I grabbed the divorce papers off the nightstand.

And burst out laughing as I ripped it to shreds.

"Spencer, I'm not divorcing you. I won't. If I don't, she stays a mistress who can never see daylight. She ruined my life, and I won't let her off easy either."

Spencer let out a short, cold laugh. "You're welcome to try."

Ten minutes after the call ended, he left a comment on Vivian's video.

Spencer denied that we were married and claimed I'd had multiple abortions, slept around with different men since I was barely legal, and repeatedly tried to seduce my male teachers.

"Ms. Hayes has been harassing me for years. She sneaked into my hotel room while I was drunk and deliberately got pregnant to force me into a relationship. Her actions have seriously violated my rights, and I reserve the right to take legal action."

The online backlash grew even more vicious. The comments were filled with people calling me every name under the sun and accusing me of sleeping my way to the top.

Someone had made a fake funeral portrait using my photo, stamping ‘filthy whore’ across my face.

Spencer sent me a video.

I opened it with shaking hands. It was a video of our first time, back in that cramped little apartment we'd rented together.

But the man in it was no longer him. His face had been replaced with those of several teenage boys who looked barely old enough to be out on their own.

"Chloe, after all these years together. I didn't want to watch your name get dragged through the mud. You'd better behave."

I burst out laughing, until tears blurred my vision.

I'd once loved him with everything I had. Now he was using the love I'd given him to destroy me, as if he wanted me dead.

I had never imagined he'd go this far to protect Vivian, let alone use something so intimate to threaten me.

I gripped the phone, too devastated to get a single word out.

After the call ended, I finally called the police.

When the officers came to take a statement, I thought someone would finally take what had happened to me seriously.

But Spencer pulled out our marriage certificate.

He told them it was nothing more than a private relationship dispute, and even presented records of my depression and claimed I'd fabricated the entire story.

The matter was dismissed as if it were nothing more than a petty lovers' quarrel.

I was so overwhelmed with helplessness that I broke down sobbing, and Spencer gently wiped my tears away and sighed.

"Chloe, you're still pregnant. Why can't you learn to behave?"

The words had barely left his mouth when the door of the ward swung open.

Vivian came in carrying a takeout box.

"Chloe, Spencer said you love vegetable porridge, so I made some for you."

She stood with her head bowed, apologizing in a tearful voice.

"I was only scared of being called a mistress. That's why I made that video. I never thought things would get this far..."