A match made in hell.
“I’ll say this one more time: my patience is not for people like you,” she said, her voice sharp with irritation. “This is my wedding day.
Don’t piss me off.”
When I still didn’t speak, her composure finally broke. She crossed her arms, looking down at me.
“Ten thousand dollars. That’s what you’re worth to me.”
2014
2014 M
Chapter 2
“Take it, or I’ll have my men drag you away.” She gestured towards the fleet of cars and the stone–faced men in suits.
With a trembling hand, I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and let out a cold, hollow laugh.
To her, I was worth ten thousand dollars.
The irony was staggering. The annual salary I paid her, including bonuses, was over half a million. Not to mention the jewelry and designer bags I’d casually gifted her, totaling well over a million.
My genuine affection had been treated like a dog’s bark.
That was the only thought left in my mind.
“Hey! You playing dead? Stop wasting everyone’s time.”
“Just take the ten grand and get yourself to a hospital. You’ll even have some left over. That’s more than you make in a year. Learn
to be grateful!” my old classmates chimed in.
Honestly, Ms. Isabella is being generous. If it were me, you wouldn’t get a dime! You deserve a lot worse for trying to steal another
man’s wife!”
The crowd seemed to think I was getting a great deal–a beating in exchange for ten grand–and shot me looks of contempt.
1 pushed myself up onto my elbows, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the pavement. Just as I was about to speak, Isabella cut me
off, waving a hand behind her. “Get him out of here.”
H
She opened her handbag, counted out a stack of hundred–dollar bills, and threw them at me. They scattered around my broken
body like red–tinged leaves.
“Hah.”
I let the money lie there, my face a dark, thunderous mask.
“Isabella,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “Have I been too good to you?”
“You feed a stray dog twice, and it will at least wag its tail. I’ve supported you for three years… and this is how you repay me?”
7
The first time I met Isabella was three years ago, on a late night.
I’d finished work around 2 a.m., and my stomach was screaming, so I found a small diner that was still open. As I was eating, she
approached me, holding her company ID badge.
At first, she thought I was an intern too, and we bonded over the hardships of corporate life. I figured a little company while I ate
wouldn’t hurt, so we chatted.
That’s when we discovered we’d gone to the same university and even graduated in the same year. I’d always been a bit of a loner
in college, so I had no memory of her.
Isabella was naturally outgoing. She suggested we have a drink. I declined, since I had to drive home.
She ended up drinking by herself, getting progressively drunker until she was leaning against me, slurring her words about how
unfair the world was, how interns were always treated like dirt.
At the time, I felt a pang of sympathy for her. Looking back now, with her tolerance, there’s no way a few beers would have gotten
