Chapter 3

Five years ago.

Alexander's mother was critically ill, and we still couldn't raise enough money for her surgery.

Alexander broke down crying, holding his head in his hands.

He even considered jumping off a building to follow his mother.

After Victor approached me, I came home to find Alexander taking antidepressants like a zombie.

I couldn't hold back my tears anymore and hugged him tightly, crying hysterically.

I agreed to Victor's proposition.

To be his caged bird until he got bored of me.

Victor was a sadist who enjoyed torturing women in new ways.

Whipping and burning became routine for me.

I don't know what kept him interested in me, but he still hasn't let me go after all this time.

It's been five years now.

The scars on my body have only become clearer with each passing day.

...

I didn't go back into the restaurant. Instead, I took a taxi home.

It had been a long time since I'd been back.

When Victor's official girlfriend wasn't around, I had to be available to him 24/7.

The apartment wasn't big, but it felt particularly cold and desolate.

This was where Alexander and I used to live together, where we dreamed of walking down the aisle together.

After I agreed to Victor's proposal, I pretended I couldn't bear the hardship anymore and picked fights to break up with Alexander.

We had been in love for four years since college.

When he went bankrupt, I stayed by his side without complaint, working like a horse to earn money to pay off his debts.

We were too clear about our love for each other; he didn't believe I was someone who only cared about money.

I forced myself to break up with him abruptly.

To ensure he would have a better life, I had no choice but to do this, even if it meant hurting him deeply.

He searched for me everywhere for three months, kneeling before me, crying and begging.

Pleading with me not to leave.

I cruelly said I was tired of living from hand to mouth.

Tired of being by his side, working like a slave to fill his bottomless pit of debt.

Tired of being with him, having to split a dollar in half to make ends meet.

Tired of being dragged down by his dying mother.

I remember how I angrily complained, driving him away.

His eyes were red, his lips trembling.

The usually proud man bowed his head, his shoulders shaking as he cried silently.

I turned away decisively.

Long after, I watched him from afar, covering my mouth to stifle my sobs.

He lay on the ground, crying his heart out, then got up and left.

Someone saw me getting into Victor's car.

After the breakup, I was completely labeled as a gold digger.

In the villa, I lay in Victor's arms.

Replaying the heartache of pushing away the person I loved most.

I just never thought there would be a day when Alexander and I would meet again.

Now, he has risen to a position far beyond my reach, becoming the successful man I had hoped he would be.

While I am covered in wounds.

I reach out to touch his image on the TV screen.

He looks so confident and accomplished.

That's good.

My phone rings again.

I answer, and Victor's playful voice comes through.

Fear seeps into my bones.

He tells me to buy more whips and candles before coming back to the villa to see him.

In the evening, the cold is biting.

I kneel in front of Victor's villa wearing thin clothes, freezing.

Victor holds a whip, steadily pressing it under my chin, forcing me to look up.

He blows out a smoke ring, lifting his eyelids carelessly.

"Why didn't you go into the restaurant? Was it because you saw Alexander?"

"You really wasted the surprise I prepared for you."

I clench my teeth, saying nothing.

"When the little cat misbehaves, a good beating will teach her a lesson."

The whip cuts through the air, landing on my body.

Fresh blood flows onto the ground, my back a mess of torn flesh.