Chapter3

I didn't stay to hear the rest.

A heavy stone seemed lodged in my chest, completely suffocating me. Leaning against the wall, I pulled myself to my feet, walked out of the hospital, hailed a cab, and headed back to Sebastian's.

The living room lights were on. Two men in suits sat on the sofa, their legs crossed, holding wine glasses. Sebastian sat in his wheelchair, facing the door. He glanced at me and tapped his watch.

"What time is it?"

"Traffic was bad."

He laughed. It was a smile I had seen far too many times.

"Our guests are getting impatient. They specifically asked for your performance."

I didn't move.

"Come on in. You're just blowing a little tune, right?"

I walked over to the coffee table and dropped to my knees. The two men set their glasses aside and leaned back against the sofa to watch. Sebastian spun his wheelchair around to face the window.

Whatever my lips touched was vile and reeked. I closed my eyes.

I couldn't remember how many times this had happened. He would take the money and summon me back. Sometimes it was one man, sometimes several. The living room rug had been replaced multiple times, always ruined by the filthy stains left behind by the guests.

"Not bad," someone chuckled.

"Do it again."

The door was suddenly pushed open.

"That's enough."

It was Cormac's voice. He tossed a card onto the coffee table. The two men glanced at the number on it, grabbed their coats, and immediately left.

Sebastian turned his wheelchair around, looking at him, then at me.

"Double the price?"

"Triple."

"Deal."

The wheelchair rolled across the hardwood floor and retreated into the bedroom. The door shut. Cormac crouched down and draped his coat over my shoulders. His hands were shaking. Pulling out a tissue, he wiped the corner of my mouth, hauled me up from the floor, and shoved me into his car.

The drive was long. I leaned against the window, watching the buildings along the road grow shorter, older, and painfully familiar.

This was the street where I grew up.

The car parked in front of a villa. Its exterior walls were covered in ivy, the stone steps bore a familiar crack, and the left window on the second floor was wide open, the curtains billowing wildly in the wind.

My family's house.

"I bought it," he said. "A surprise for you."

I just stared at that window. My dad used to love leaving all the windows open in the summer, saying he loved feeling the cross breeze.

The front door was open. From inside came the sounds of voices, laughter, and clinking glasses.

Cormac pushed the door wide and stepped aside to let me enter first.

The living room was packed with people. Balloons, streamers, and a long table draped in a white cloth bearing a three-tiered cake. Cassandra stood right in the center, wearing a pale yellow dress, her pregnant belly highly visible. She held a champagne flute, smiling radiantly. Noah stood right beside her.

Everyone turned their heads.

Cassandra's smile froze for a split second before returning to its full glory. "Cormac! I thought you weren't coming."

She walked over, linked her arm through his, and kissed him on the jaw. He didn't pull away.

Then she saw me. Her smile remained unchanged, but something malignant shifted in her eyes.

Someone yelled for her to make a wish. Cassandra closed her eyes, clasped her hands together, opened them, and blew out the candles. Applause erupted.

Cormac gently detached himself from her, walked to my side, and lowered his head. "I prepared a room for you."

I barely registered the words.

Cassandra approached in her high heels, holding her champagne glass near her chest, and deliberately lowered her voice.

"Both men are mine now. This house is mine, too." She paused. "And you? Performing under men every night—does it feel good?"

The corners of her mouth curled up maliciously as she bit out the word "performing."

I slapped her across the face.

It was a loud, cracking smack. Instantly, two pairs of hands shoved me at the exact same time. Noah from the left, Cormac from the right. My back slammed violently into the wall, and the back of my head struck a heavy picture frame.

Cassandra collapsed into Noah's arms, clutching her cheek as her tears spilled perfectly on cue. Noah glared at me, his eyes not filled with anger, but with pure disgust—as if looking at something filthy.

Cormac gave me a complicated look, stepped forward, and reached out to help me up. I didn't even look at him. I braced myself against the wall and got to my feet.

"I'm going back."

"I didn't say you could leave."