Chapter 3

At that moment, the icy water pierced into my very bones like knives.

I stared at him, my eyes red-rimmed. “You know I’m afraid of this!”

When I was eight, I was trapped in a collapsed old warehouse.

Outside, the rain poured down relentlessly, water rising above my knees. It was dark, surrounded by broken wood.

My mother, trying to save me, was crushed by a fallen beam.

She pushed me out, but she never made it out herself.

Since then, I’ve been afraid of confined spaces, of the continuous sound of water, of any night I can't escape.

All these years, I had never told anyone. Only Ethan knew.

Because back then, when the Vance Group was cornered by debt collectors in the underground parking garage, he was also locked in his car for an entire night, protecting project documents.

When I accompanied him for psychological counseling, he held my hand and said, “Aria, from now on, I’ll protect you from your fears.”

Now, he stood downstairs, turning my fear into everyone’s amusement.

Tiffany laughed, chiming in.

“Ethan said it himself, I just like to have fun.”

“Aria, don’t be so petty.”

She turned to face the guests downstairs, her voice suddenly rising.

“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight’s bet officially begins.”

“If she cries and begs Ethan to save her within half an hour, I lose.”

“If she endures without begging, I’ll transfer a hundred grand to each of you.”

The crowd erupted.

“Miss Blackwood is generous!”

“Well, then we’re definitely betting she can’t hold out.”

“A woman from a small town, does she really think a designer gown makes her fit for high society?”

“Is Mr. Vance really going to marry her? I always thought it was just a fling.”

My fingertips went numb.

Rainwater streamed down my hair and into my eyes, stinging them open.

I pounded on the door.

“Ethan, I’m telling you one last time, tell someone to open the door!”

Ethan finally looked up at me.

His expression showed no guilt, only annoyance at being publicly challenged.

“Aria, do you really have to make this scene so ugly?”

“Tiffany has been spoiled by us since she was little. Why are you being so serious with her?”

“Besides, aren’t you the best at solving crises? You can’t even handle this small matter?”

I stood there, stunned, and then a smile, grim and cold, stretched across my face.

So, in his eyes, my fear, trapped in a downpour, was just a small matter.

All the crises I had shouldered for him these past three years had ultimately become his reasons to humiliate me.

Tiffany’s face twitched when she saw me smile.

She hated this look on me, hated that even at my most pathetic, I still refused to bow my head.

She raised her hand and pressed the remote control.

The next second, the water pressure from the conservatory's sprinklers suddenly intensified.

Colder water poured down, and my knees buckled, almost making me fall.

A collective gasp rose from downstairs. It wasn't worry; it was excitement.

“She’s about to break!”

“Quick, record it! This video is definitely going viral tomorrow!”

“Mr. Vance’s fiancée is quite stubborn…”

Tiffany leaned closer to the glass, lowering her voice so only I could hear.

“Aria, stop pretending.”

“I know you’re terrified of places like this.”

“Ethan told me himself.”