Chapter 2

Arlene Hayes POV

I knew my family's company was on the verge of collapse. If the capital chain broke, my parents' life's work would be ruined in my hands.

The Davies family's investment was the only solution.

But the Davies family didn't just have one son.

As long as I married into the Davies family, no matter who it was, Hayes Holdings would survive.

On the other end of the phone, Mrs. Davies's voice held surprise and hesitation. "Arlene, are you... sure about this? I know what Dean has done recently has hurt you, but Ryan hasn't woken up yet. Marriage is for a lifetime; I hope you think it over carefully."

I closed my eyes, my voice calm. "Mrs. Davies, you know me. I've never been a generous person. Since Dean likes that woman so much, I might as well make them happy."

A sigh came from the other end. "Since your mind is made up, I can't persuade you further."

After hanging up, I looked at the sterile white ceiling of the hospital room, a hollow ache in my chest.

The door pushed open, and Evan hurried in.

"Arlene..." He looked awkward, "I'm really sorry, but there's no dermatologist on duty right now."

I frowned. "You're telling me a major hospital like this doesn't even have a dermatologist?"

He scratched his head, avoiding my gaze, mumbling incoherently.

Just then, two nurses pushed a medical cart in to change my dressing.

They chatted casually as they worked.

"Hey, that woman in the next room is so lucky. Just a tiny scar, and Dean Davies actually got every doctor in the hospital to go over."

"Yeah, what a fuss. I thought she was seriously injured, but it was just a little scratch on her shoulder."

I sat on the bed, listening to those airy whispers, and actually laughed.

A year ago, I fell hiking and scraped my knee. It was just a little scratch too.

Back then, Dean was the same way. He found every dermatologist in the hospital for me, looking anxious, wishing he could feel the pain for me.

Then, I found it funny and sweet.

But now, he gave that same tenderness to another woman.

After the nurses left, Evan seemed to want to say something else.

I raised my hand to stop him. "Don't bother. You can go. My injury isn't serious, I don't need care."

He hesitated, then nodded, softly saying, "Then get some rest."

Once I was alone in the room, I propped myself up on the edge of the bed and slowly stood.

The anesthesia hadn't worn off completely; my steps felt light.

I'd just reached the bathroom door when I heard Evan's voice from the hallway.

"Dean, why don't you come see Arlene? She's all alone, it's quite pitiful..."

"What's pitiful about her?" Dean's voice was full of irritation, "Scarlett's the victim. Arlene's the aggressor, she deserves this."

I froze, a suffocating tightness in my chest.

The next second, I pushed open the bathroom door and locked it.

I didn't want to hear another word from him.

I suddenly remembered the night I first met Dean.

I was at an upscale lounge to meet a potential investor for my company.

The middle-aged man shamelessly slid his hand up my thigh. Furious, I splashed his drink right in his face.

Just as he grabbed my hair, ready to hit me, Dean appeared.

Without a word, he slammed the man to the ground, punching him repeatedly. The brutality scared me, but it also captivated me.

From that day on, I accepted Dean's help and secured his investment.

And I secretly decided in my heart that I would give everything for this man.

I knew he liked "innocent, fragile girls."

So I changed my style of dress, my makeup, my way of speaking.

I became the "gentle angel" everyone admired, the way he liked me.

Finally, I became his girlfriend, just as I wished.

But when I saw Scarlett, I finally understood.

He didn't love me.

He loved that kind of "vulnerability" that stirred his pity.

No matter how much I imitated it, it was just an act.

She, on the other hand, was naturally like that.

Thinking of this, I laughed.

Laughed at myself for knowingly stepping into a trap, yet plunging headfirst into it.

Since that was the case, letting go was probably for the best.

At least, this time, I was the one who said goodbye first.