Chapter 3

03.

Really?

Maisie had been with the company for a year, and aside from Damon, I had never seen another man near her.

Damon’s possessiveness over her was almost pathological; from her manager to her assistants and bodyguards, every single person on her team was female.

That secret boyfriend was clearly himself.

But it did not matter anymore. Soon, they could make their relationship public for the whole world to see.

And I would finally have nothing to do with him.

I gave a faint nod.

Damon visibly let out a sigh of relief. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled a lipstick from his pocket and handed it to me.

“For you. A birthday present.”

I looked at the lipstick, noticing the promotional free gift sticker hadn’t even been removed.

It immediately reminded me of the luxury skincare set Maisie had bragged about on set two days ago.

That set had everything, except for one missing lipstick.

When someone asked her about it, Maisie sneered, “That lipstick was just a cheap freebie. The shade was hideous, so I threw it away.”

Looking at the exact same brand and shade in Damon’s hand, I felt a bitter laugh rise in my throat.

“My birthday was a week ago. There is no need for a gift now.”

Damon’s brow furrowed once more.

“Hazel, stop making a scene. I am already swamped with work. If you want something, take my card and buy whatever you like. Just stop causing trouble.”

Right. Simply expressing my feelings was labeled as causing trouble.

Yet when Maisie got a tiny paper cut on set that didn’t even bleed, Damon rushed her to the hospital and fired four assistants on the spot, treating it as completely justified.

My heart was too exhausted to argue.

I pulled my suitcase toward the door, only to realize my wheelchair couldn’t navigate the front steps.

Helpless, I had to turn to Damon. “Can you help me down the stairs?”

I was prepared for him to refuse, but perhaps realizing our conversation had been too tense, he actually stood up and walked to the doorway.

Just as his hands touched the wheelchair handles, his phone rang with an urgent, unfamiliar ringtone.

Damon answered immediately, and Maisie’s panicked voice spilled through the speaker.

“Damon, there is a snake in my apartment! Please come over, I am terrified!”

Damon’s expression turned instantly frantic. “Hold on, I am coming right now!”

Without another thought, he let go of my wheelchair and bolted down the steps.

The wheelchair was already perched halfway down the staircase.

When he let go, the heavy chair tilted forward and plunged down the concrete steps.

My heart jumped into my throat, and I screamed in terror, “Damon!”