When Thomas burst in with his mother, I was sprawled naked beneath Richard Collins, legs spread, letting him have his way with me.

Richard and I had slept together countless times, always in the same hotel room.


We're both creatures of habit with no special preferences.

He gets off; I get paid.

A simple transaction.


Before this particular encounter, while Richard was in the shower, I called his wife, Victoria Collins.

I didn't say a word—just gave her an address.


To see if she would come.

I invited his wife here deliberately.

But I never meant for Thomas to witness this.

That innocent, almost adorably naive young heir looked utterly devastated.

Lying on my back, I watched Thomas frozen in the doorway, his expression shattered. I sighed inwardly.

Why bother? I'd warned him not to catch feelings for me.

I've always been heartless.

True feelings are worthless to someone like me.

Richard's body tensed above mine. I watched his face as he processed what was happening—caught with his pants down in the most literal sense.

Without a word, he yanked the sheet over our naked bodies.

I laughed to myself—what a pathetic gesture.

They'd already seen everything. Why bother with the pretense?

I reached for my torn underwear on the nightstand, trying to maintain some dignity.

The next second, a blur rushed toward me, fast as lightning.

Victoria yanked me off the bed. I hit the floor hard.

She grabbed my hair with both hands, yanking violently backward.

My scalp burned like it was being ripped off. Tears sprang to my eyes.

Then something sharp dug into my face, nearly crushing my cheekbone. The pain was blinding.

Even with my eyes closed, I knew it was her stiletto.

She clawed at my face with her nails, then threw herself on top of me, punching and kicking while screaming: "You fucking whore! You shameless homewrecker!"

Well said. I mentally applauded her.

Does she hate me? Unfortunately, her hatred doesn't even amount to a fraction of mine.

I wanted her to hurt.

The more pain she felt, the more satisfied I became.

"Enough!"

After what seemed like forever, when my body had gone numb from the assault, Richard finally stepped in to stop her.

He was fully dressed now, looking impeccable except for some wrinkles in his designer suit.

After Victoria finished venting her rage on me, she turned and slapped Richard hard across the face.

"I want a divorce!"

She coldly declared.

Richard grabbed her wrist, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Enough! Stop making a scene!"

"A scene?" Victoria's laugh was brittle. "You drove me to this! If you don't break things off with this little tramp today, Thomas and I will cut all ties with you!"

She pointed at me, her finger trembling with rage, her eyes wild with fury, looking like she wanted to tear me apart.

I watched her frenzied, contorted face with detachment. She had no idea how long I'd waited for this moment.

When she drove my mother insane years ago, did she ever imagine she'd face the same fate?