Chapter 3

Arlene Hayes POV

On my seventh day in the hospital, he finally called.

"How long are you going to keep this up? It was just a little scratch, are you planning to live in the hospital forever? Scarlett's already home; aren't you coming back?"

I leaned against the bed, staring at the ceiling and sneering.

"Home? Dean, that's not my home anymore."

There was a moment of silence on the other end, then his tone seemed to soften slightly.

"Arlene, stop being difficult, okay? That's your home, and it's our future home."

I wasn't interested in hearing his pretentious lies, so I simply hung up.

But the next second, my screen lit up again.

"Arlene Hayes, did you just hang up on me?!" His anger was practically seeping through the phone.

"Are you done? I'm going to sleep." I couldn't be bothered.

"If you dare hang up, I'll pull all the funding."

He gritted out the words, and the smile on my face vanished instantly.

"Dean," I said coldly, "You're addicted to threatening me, aren't you?"

He was silent for a few seconds.

"It's because you won't talk to me properly."

I took a deep breath, suppressing the surge of anger.

"What exactly do you want?"

"There's an auction the day after tomorrow. I'll send you an invitation." He said, "You have to come. Consider it... my compensation to you."

The word "compensation" from his mouth was so ironic.

But I knew it wasn't time to openly break ties. My family's company was teetering; if he pulled the funding, everything would be over.

So I replied. "Got it. Can I hang up now?"

He seemed about to say more, but then Scarlett's sweet voice came from his end.

He quickly hung up.

I watched the screen darken, a self-mocking smile on my lips, then turned off my phone.

Two days later, Dean sent a dress to the hospital.

The moment I opened the box, I froze. It was a white gauze dress, gentle, pure, and dignified. Exactly the "look" Dean liked.

I picked up a pair of scissors and, without hesitation, shredded it into pieces, tossing it into the trash.

Then I called someone to send over a red strapless gown.

Confident, flamboyant, sexy - that was the real me.

After applying heavy makeup, I smiled at my reflection.

In the years I was with Dean, my clothes were always plain, my makeup barely there.

But I never liked plain colors, nor did I like pretending to be docile.

Since I'd already decided to leave him, I didn't need to pretend anymore.

The auction house was brightly lit. The moment I walked in, I felt countless eyes on me.

That attention gave me a long-lost sense of exhilaration.

After all, no one had ever seen me like this.

"Isn't that Arlene Hayes? Why is she dressed like that?"

I heard astonished whispers.

The moment Dean turned his head, I saw him clearly freeze.

My lips curved into a smirk, and I raised my champagne glass, toasting him from afar.

His face darkened several shades. Someone nearby joked, "Didn't you two break up? Does that mean I can pursue her now?"

Dean sneered, "We haven't broken up. She's probably jealous that I've been too close to Scarlett lately, so she's deliberately dressed like this to win me back."

Win him back?

I laughed softly, a laugh more bitter than the wine.

He continued to socialize, while I stood with my glass, drinking one after another.

Until someone approached me, a hand reeking of alcohol attempting to rest on my shoulder.

I frowned in disgust, warning coldly, "Keep your distance."

But the man smirked lewdly, still trying to touch me.

I grabbed a wine bottle from the table and smashed it against his shoulder.

The shattering glass made ears ring, and he cried out, collapsing to the floor.

I looked down at him, my voice cold as ice.

"That's a warning. Try to touch me again, and next time it won't just be a wine bottle."

Security rushed over and dragged him away. I picked up another glass of wine and continued to socialize.

Glass after glass went down, and my awareness began to blur.

I stumbled towards the restroom, but the moment I entered, I heard intimate gasps.

That sound - I recognized it instantly.

It's Dean.

I froze, my fingertips growing cold.

He called me here, supposedly to "compensate" me, but then turned around to embrace another woman.

How ridiculous.

I calmly washed my hands.

The heavily made-up face in the mirror was cold and unfamiliar.

The place in my heart that used to ache was now just numb.

As the auction was about to end, I finally understood his true intention in calling me here.

On the table was a thick stack of contracts, all the collaboration projects I wanted.

At least tonight, I got what I came for.

"Wait for me in the parking lot," I told my driver.

I walked into the elevator and pressed for the basement.

The moment the elevator doors opened, I took a step and felt my vision go black -

I lost consciousness.