Chapter2

That evening, Victor took me to a private underground auction in Manhattan.

Inside the VIP suite, he won the bid for a sapphire necklace and an elegant vintage haute couture gown, ordering me to try them on right then and there. He leaned back against the sofa, his gaze sweeping over my body with raw aggression.

"Do you like it?" he asked suddenly, a hint of imperceptible expectation in his voice.

I spun around, deliberately letting the hem of the dress flare out in an arc, and tilted my head up with a smile. "I love it. You're the best to me, Victor."

I looked at my reflection in the mirror, my heart skipping a beat—those words sounded exceptionally ironic at this moment.

He curled his lips into a smirk, seemingly satisfied with my reaction. Then he turned to Luca and said, "Box it up and put it in the vault. Elena likes this kind of vintage style."

The smile on my face froze for half a second before I flawlessly resumed my casual demeanor. "Oh... that's wonderful. I'm sure Miss Elena will absolutely love it." As I spoke, I reached out to adjust Victor's cuffs, the very picture of obedience.

The eyes of the female companions around us instantly shifted, swirling with pity and mockery.

My fingertips paused for a second before slowly uncurling. Three years, and I had actually harbored a sliver of hope. As it turned out, I was nothing more than a fitting model he borrowed to try on clothes.

It didn't matter. Twenty-five days. There were only twenty-five days left.

Back at the apartment, Victor casually tossed me a ruby necklace from the secondary auction lots. "You worked hard tonight. I have a meeting later, so I won't be coming back."

"Thank you." Clutching the necklace, I tilted my head up. "I'll be sleeping alone tonight. I'm going to miss you."

He let out a low chuckle, a flash of satisfaction crossing his eyes. "Good girl."

Leaning into him, I proactively kissed him, my tongue prying past his lips and teeth. Three years of muscle memory made the kiss incredibly natural and scorching. His breathing grew ragged, and when he pulled away, his voice was hoarse. "Swipe the card for whatever you want."

The door clicked shut. The submissive expression on my face vanished completely.

I opened my laptop and hacked right into the subsidiary account of his black card. Using offshore shell companies, I built a chain of fund transfers, bypassing the bank's anti-fraud risk monitoring systems to launder the money, transaction by transaction, straight into my anonymous wallet. Anonymous cryptocurrency wallets were unregistered and immune to freezing; even if he discovered the account balances didn't match up later, it would be almost impossible for him to trace the transfer route.

Son of a bitch. Treating me like a storefront dummy? He could consider it compensation for emotional damage.

A few days later, Elena returned. Victor came home early, scrutinizing the red dress on my body. "Come to a banquet with me tonight. We're picking up a friend."

I instantly understood: he was going to use me to provoke his newly returned first love.

"Sure." I stood on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his jaw. "I won't embarrass you."

He seemed highly satisfied with my sensibility, casually signing a check and tucking it right into my cleavage. "Take it. Buy whatever you want."

Throwing money at me was his most accustomed method of control.

"Thank you, darling," I said. I took the check, pressed it against my chest, and flashed a look of sheer greed. "Victor is the best." In my mind, I was already calculating how many of my expenses in London this would cover.

The banquet was held in a private ballroom at a penthouse hotel in Manhattan. As I linked arms with Victor and pushed open the doors, he instantly froze. In the center of the hall stood Elena, wearing the vintage white gown, adorned with the sapphire necklace. Victor's gaze immediately glued itself to her.

I felt his muscles tense subconsciously beneath my grip.

Without missing a beat, I leaned close to his ear and pouted softly, "Darling, you're gripping me too hard."

It was only then that he seemed to snap out of his trance.

We stood there until Elena swayed gracefully toward us, a champagne flute in hand. Her gaze landed on my face. "Victor, who is this?"

Victor's arm tightened dramatically, pulling me flush against his chest for a hard kiss. "My woman, Vivian."

I played along, looping my arms around his neck and kissing him back with equal fervor.

Elena looked me up and down and let out a light laugh. "She really does look a tiny bit like me. But Victor—didn't you use to hate this kind of overtly sexy style? It seems you've changed quite a bit over the years."

"Is that right?" I cut in with a smile before Victor could speak. "Then it's probably because I know how to make him happy much better than some people do."

Elena's smile stiffened for a fraction of a second.

Victor glanced down at me, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes.

I still wore a polite, faint smile on my face, while silently counting down the days until my flight took off.

Once I yanked out the true killer behind that London account, absolutely none of them were going to have an easy time.