Chapter 3

3

"Give me a hundred million, and tomorrow I'll deliver the signed divorce papers to you."

A hundred million was not a small sum.

But compared to the larger interests and potential scandals at stake, the elder Mr. Bennett had no reason to refuse.

His voice darkened with displeasure on the other end. "Once I see the signed divorce agreement, I'll transfer half the money. The rest, you'll get when I see the divorce certificate."

"After the divorce, you are to leave North City immediately. I don't want you showing your face to Damon ever again, and I don't want a soul knowing you were ever married."

"Deal."

After the call ended, Everly finally felt the delayed sting of her injuries.

She set the phone down and realized her bandage had burst open at some point. The gauze was soaked in red, and fresh blood was seeping through her fingers, dripping onto the floor.

She froze for a moment, then stood up calmly to fetch the medical kit.

Just like when she was a child being beaten by her mother, bullied by the Bennett servants, or targeted by classmates, she silently tended to her own wounds.

The bloody gauze was pulled away, revealing the jagged, raw skin beneath.

She tore it off bit by bit, moving clumsily, but she didn't let herself shed another tear.

When Damon returned, Everly had already redressed the wound and was cleaning the residual blood from the floor.

"Everly!" The man strode over to her, his concern sounding authentic. "How did you get so hurt?"

Damon scanned the bloody gauze in the trash can, then fixed his eyes on Everly's poorly bandaged arm, his pupils shaking.

He looked like he wanted to pull her into his arms, but feared touching her wounds, leaving him looking utterly lost.

"I'm sorry, Everly. The company gave me a major project, and I was so busy when you called… I'm so sorry, baby…"

Everly looked up at him.

Unlike the well-dressed socialite she'd seen at the hospital earlier that afternoon, Damon was wearing his old, worn-out suit, sweat on his forehead, looking exhausted.

He looked as if he'd rushed home the moment he saw her message.

If she hadn't seen him kissing another woman and heard his disdainful words, she might never have known he was such a skilled actor.

Her eyes dropped from his pained face to his neck, where a clear red mark was visible.

Further down, faint claw marks were visible on his chest.

Though hidden by his shirt, they were unmistakable.

Damon didn't notice her reaction. He grabbed her uninjured left hand, his voice trembling: "Everly, you don't know how terrified I was when I saw your message…"

"I was so worried something happened to you. I left the meeting room the second I got my phone and rushed home. Thank god… thank god you're okay."

He squeezed her hand, kneeling by the sofa, sounding incredibly sincere.

Everly found it laughable.

Terrified? Would he really be terrified?

She pulled her hand away coldly.

With her hand gone, Damon froze, his heart jumping when he met her cold, dead eyes.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asked tentatively.

He tried to grab her hand again, his voice softening. "Are you upset I didn't answer your calls? I'm wrong, please forgive me, okay?"

"Once this project ends, I'll get a bonus. Everly, don't work so hard anymore. Just find an easy job, stop delivering food, alright?"

"Your husband here will work a little harder, and we'll get a bigger place soon…"

He spoke with deep affection, as if he were seriously mapping out their future.

If this were before, Everly might have blissfully imagined it with him, forgetting all her pain and misery.

But now, she only felt sick.

She pulled her hand away again, her voice weary.

"Damon, aren't you tired?"