Chapter 3

Tears poured from my eyes and hit the floor one by one.

“Elena, if you were better, why didn’t you tell me? I’m so—”

I cut Mick off.

“Stop pretending, Mick. We’re getting divorced.”

I continued, “My mother’s crash, what happened to me—I’m going to the police. I’m taking this all the way.”

Every word felt like it was being ripped from my ruined throat.

At the words “divorce” and “police,” the tenderness in Mick’s eyes vanished completely.

“Divorce? Are you sure?”

“Elena, you’re disabled. Who else would want you besides me?”

Every word felt like it was being ripped from my ruined throat.

At the words “divorce” and “police,” the tenderness in Mick’s eyes vanished completely.

“Divorce? Are you sure?”

“Elena, you’re disabled. Who else would want you besides me?”

After the attack, I had endured countless looks of pity and contempt.

But hearing the word “disabled” from Mick’s mouth hurt more than the knife that had cut into my throat.

I raised my hand and slapped him across the face.

“What about my mother’s life?”

“What about all this pain I suffered? Mick, do you even have a heart?”

Mick turned his face away and pressed his tongue against the cheek I’d slapped red.

A few seconds later, he actually laughed.

“I admit your mother helped me back then.”

“So the night she got into that crash, I used the best doctors and the most expensive medicine on her.”

“After she died, I gave her the most expensive funeral package.”

“I’ve done enough for her.”

My whole body shook.

When he first came to New York, he didn’t have a penny.

My mother sold her house and even sold her blood to wire him the money to start his business.

Looking at the man in front of me, I felt sick.

The screech of brakes came from outside.

The front door was kicked open.

Gianna’s father, Victor, barged in with a large man.

And with them was her mentally unstable brother, Luca.

Victor looked me up and down, then grinned.

“Is that her? She’s pretty.”