Chapter 1

Six years of my life, six years of devotion, all for nothing. My ex-fiancé, Mark, was standing on a brightly lit stage, his arm wrapped tightly around Tiffany, who used to be my closest friend. Now, she was his new fiancée.

To show the world how much he adored her, he threw this ridiculously lavish engagement party. The whole room was silent as he picked up the microphone.

"I want to thank everyone for coming tonight," he started, his voice smooth and confident, booming through the speakers. "But most of all, I want to thank the woman standing next to me. Tiffany is the woman I love most in this life."

The crowd erupted in applause. My hands felt cold. I was still an employee at his company, and my presence here was mandatory. He saw me standing near the edge of the crowd, watching. His smile vanished.

He walked over to me, his expression turning to ice.

"What are you standing around for? Go prepare the serving trays."

His voice was a low command, meant only for me, but sharp enough to make my head spin. I turned to obey, but my foot slipped on the polished floor. I stumbled forward, my body lurching, and I barely caught myself before falling right at Mark' s feet.

He let out a short, ugly laugh.

"Are you really that pathetic?"

I straightened up, ignoring the burn of shame on my cheeks. I looked past him at Tiffany, who was watching with a small, satisfied smile. I shook my head slowly, then took her hand and placed it in Mark' s.

"I wish you both eternal happiness."

My voice was steady, much steadier than I felt. He didn' t know it, but my resignation from his company was already processed. In a few hours, I would be free.

…

My palm was stinging, a small cut from when I' d braced my fall. I tried to ignore it as I carefully arranged the colorful appetizers on the silver trays.

Tiffany, looking like a princess in her designer gown, leaned against Mark. Her face was lit up with a happiness that felt like a deliberate performance for my benefit.

"Chloe, thank you for helping us prepare."

Her voice was sweet, but her eyes were not.

"With your blessing, Mark and I will surely be deliriously happy soon."

It was the most ironic thing I had ever heard, the mistress flaunting her victory in front of the woman she had replaced.

Mark' s gaze fell on my hand, and he frowned with a flicker of what looked like concern.

"Chloe, is your hand hurt?"

I quickly pulled my hand behind my back, taking two steps away from them. The small space I created felt like a vast canyon.

"No, you saw wrong."

The air around us turned cold. A few nearby guests had stopped talking and were now watching the three of us, their eyes full of curiosity. Tiffany, sensing her audience, provocatively hooked a finger into the belt loop of Mark' s pants. Her eyes challenged me.

"Mark, it' s almost 1:14 PM."

Her words were dripping with meaning, her finger tracing a slow, deliberate path against his hip. I knew what that time meant to them. It was their anniversary, the time they first got together behind my back.

I managed a knowing smile and started walking straight out of the grand banquet hall.

"Then I won' t disturb you."

Mark scoffed, then suddenly scooped Tiffany up into his arms. He tossed her onto a plush sofa nearby, scattering the tray of appetizers I had just prepared. They tumbled onto the floor around her.

Tiffany let out a playful, high-pitched squeal.

Dave, one of Mark' s slimiest friends, whistled loudly. He came up behind me and gave me a light push toward the exit.

He winked back at Mark, grabbing a bottle of champagne from a passing waiter' s tray.

"Mark, we won' t interrupt your fun."

He raised the bottle.

"You and your fiancée better make the most of it."

A wave of laughter spread through the guests who had been watching. Some of them shot me looks filled with mockery and pity. I lowered my head, a dry chuckle escaping my own lips, and I quickened my pace, desperate to leave.

But then, a sharp, blinding pain exploded at the back of my head. My vision swam, and my consciousness began to fade into a dark, swirling fog. My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the hard floor.

When I opened my eyes again, the world was black. I was tied to a chair, the rough ropes digging into my wrists. A familiar voice echoed from a dark corner of the room.

"Chloe, you slept for quite a while."

Dave walked out of the shadows and came up to me. He ran a finger lightly down my face, and his touch was cold and reptilian. His eyes held a greedy, undeniable craving that made my stomach clench with fear.

I remembered something from a long time ago. I had overheard Dave talking to Mark.

"Mark, you don' t even love Chloe anyway."

His voice had been slick with suggestion.

"Just let me have some fun with her, I promise I won' t break her."

At that moment, Mark' s face had instantly darkened. He had glared at Dave, his voice a low warning.

"Don' t even think about her."

Now, sitting here tied to a chair, that memory offered no comfort. My body started to tremble uncontrollably. I tried to pull away from Dave' s hand, a wave of disgust washing over me.

He sneered at my reaction and slapped my left cheek, hard. The force of it snapped my head to the side. I tasted the metallic tang of blood in my mouth.

A choked cry escaped my throat.

"Dave, you can' t touch me! If Mark finds out, he won' t let you get away with it!"

I struggled desperately against the ropes, trying to reach the phone I could feel in my pocket. I had to call for help.

But when Dave heard my words, he just laughed, a crazed, high-pitched sound that filled the small, dark room. He reached into his own pocket and pulled out a small voice recorder. He pressed a button, and Mark' s voice filled the silence, cold and ruthless.

"Chloe spilled tea on Tiffany' s leg last time and burned her."

There was a pause, then Mark' s voice continued, devoid of any emotion.

"You wanted to have some fun with her, help me teach her a lesson."

My heart stopped, then sank into an icy abyss. The betrayal was so complete it left me breathless. I bit my lower lip so hard I could taste more blood, forcing myself to try and think, to stay calm.

"Dave, please let me go."

My voice was a raw whisper.

"I' ll give you anything you want."

Dave just laughed again, a lazy, cruel sound. He took a piece of cloth and roughly stuffed it into my mouth, silencing me.

He grabbed the front of my blouse and tore it open. Tears blurred my vision, hot and useless.

In the corner of the room, a small red light began to flicker. I saw it and started to struggle wildly, my terror sharpening.

Dave seemed to find my desperate movements amusing. He picked up a camcorder from a small table I hadn't noticed before and aimed the lens directly at my face.

"Chloe, Mark said he wanted to record this as a keepsake."

He leaned in close, his breath hot and foul against my skin.

"Just be a good girl."

I don' t know how long it lasted. It felt like an eternity, long enough for my mind to go numb, for every last bit of hope to drain away into despair.

When it was over, Dave mercifully untied the ropes. I fell from the chair onto the cold floor, feeling like a broken rag doll.

He turned and walked out of the room without another word, leaving me curled up in a miserable heap in the darkness.