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After that night Amanda—Aaron threw her out—she was hit with a fever that left her in bed for days, her limbs aching and her nose clogged. It was unbearable, yet she survived all by herself in her room.
Amanda clutched the CT scan in hand, clutching like her life depended on it as she bit her lower lip in anger, enough to draw blood and taste tallic in her mouth.
"Think, Amanda. Think," she muttered, hitting the side of her head like it could help her with her predicant, her voice hoarse from the aftermath of the fever. "You can’t give up like this," she gritted, the corners of her eyes squinted in thought.
She couldn’t give up after everything. After how long she has co.
Her phone buzzed once beside her, and Amanda jumped, flinching from the sudden sound as her heart figuratively stopped for a mont when she saw the caller ID on the screen.
Marcus.
Her nightmare.
Her living hell.
With trembling hands, she placed the phone to her ear, her breathing racing higher and higher from fear of unknown.
"Miss , sweetheart?" Amanda sucked in a breath from his voice and that statent, her stomach churning and curling in disgust as she grabbed her side to calm her trembling heart.
God, not now. She had barely gotten herself together after days of hollowing in self pity. And then there was Marcus, and she really hoped Marcus wouldn’t find out about her pregnancy because she didn’t know what he could do as she clutched her stomach protectively, even though it was flat.
Amanda grunted in response because Marcus always wanted a response to every question except if he ordered not to.
"When are you coming back to Federal City? I’m missing my cunt."
"I—I—" Amanda let out a strangled sound, sowhere between a scoff and a choked cry. Her entire body went stiff, her throat closing up, her fingers trembling around her phone.
His voice ca through, cold and gruff. "Well? Transfer so money ASAP with no delay."
Her heart thumped painfully, her eyes flashed in mortification. "But—but Marcus, I don’t have—"
"Are you disobeying your master, slave?" he growled.
Amanda closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks as her throat tightened. She swallowed the bile rising and nodded slowly as if he could see her. "I’ll send it," she whispered in resignation.
"That’s my good cum bucket," he laughed mockingly, and the smugness could be heard in his voice, before the call ended with a click.
Amanda fell on her ass imdiately, her shoulder blades trembling as she hurled the phone across the room. She couldn’t count how many tis she had changed her phone since the madness started. The phone hit the wall with a loud thud, clattering on the floor.
"Ah!" Her scream tore through the silence, raw and broken as she stood up, walked to where her phone was, then kicked her foot into the wall. Pain jolted from her leg to her neuron system, yet she swallowed the pain—the throbbing of her toe.
Shalessly, Amanda picked the phone again. The screen was shattered, but it still worked. She dialed Aaron’s number.
It rang once. Twice. Three tis.
No answer. It went through voicemail.
She redialed, biting her nails anxiously.
"Pick up, damn it! Pick up!" she yelled, pacing now, her body frantic. The phone slipped from her hand again as the notification blinked—You have been checked out of Great Hotel.
Her body shook with anger and humiliation. They checked her out without her knowledge or a notice. Just like that!
Amanda stared blankly, her eyes burning from unshed tears. "You’ll regret ignoring ," she said to no one in particular, her voice ragged, lost the touch of the high pitch and sweetness. "I swear, Aaron, you’ll regret it."
"If you won’t co to , then I’ll make you co to ." Amanda laughed maniacally, her gaze locked on the mirror across the room. Her reflection made her recoil. The girl staring back at her was like a ghost—sunken cheeks, eyes hollow, and skin dull.
Amanda staggered in disbelief. She couldn’t believe how she looked now. She was nothing like the Amanda Knight that n worshipped at her feet and won were jealous of. She touched the mirror before curling her hand into a fist and punched the mirror hard.
"You guys are the ones who pushed to this," she laughed bitterly, wiping the blood across the glass as she stared at her blood on the smashed floor.
.
"What’s up?"
Aaron turned, raising his brows as Raymond slid into the booth beside him at the dim bar, his usual loud entrance strangely dim like low energy.
"I am trendously fucked," Raymond declared, slamming his palm on the table to call for the bartender’s attention.
Aaron tilted his head, already half-done with his drink. "You being dramatic again?" he asked lazily, clinking his glass against Raymond’s as a greeting.
"Dramatic?" Raymond gasped, raising a brow before clutching his chest to make a hurtful expression. "You wound , friend."
Aaron snorted. "You’re always wounded."
Raymond took the drink placed before him and emptied half in one go. "This ti it’s serious."
Aaron leaned back, staring at his friend. "So what is it?"
"My wedding date is set," Raymond muttered, blinking slowly. "Set without my knowledge. My perfect man-whore life has been signed and sealed."
Aaron gave a lazy shrug. "Then either go along with the arrangent or leave it."
Raymond pulled his hair slightly. "God," he rubbed his face dramatically, "The lady is scarier than in source of information. My mom called —" he trailed off, then shook his head.
Aaron chuckled, lifting his glass again. "Sounds like you got a match, Raymond."
Raymond groaned and buried his face in his hands. Then he peeked at Aaron. "Between, what are you going to do with Amanda?"
Aaron’s face darkened slightly. He rolled his glass slowly between his fingers, rembering that unfortunate night. The aftermath. The way his body had reacted—he nearly couldn’t feel his dick the morning after masturbating. He couldn’t count how many tis he ca and ca and ca while cursing himself each ti.
"Leave her alone for now," he said flatly. "Until she sses up again."
Raymond arched a brow, amusent dancing in his voice. "So you’re waiting for her next move?"
"Yes, Raymond," Aaron muttered, sipping his wine, then stretched his hand to glance at his wristwatch.
"Okay, boss," Raymond gave him a playful nudge. "How’s the wooing going with our hotel goddess?"
Aaron’s lips curved, a smirk playing on his face. "We’re getting there," he replied, placing the empty glass on the table as he stood up.
Raymond’s jaw dropped, feigning betrayal. "You’re leaving alone?! I ca all the way here to pour my heart out and you—traitor!" he pointed at Aaron dramatically.
Aaron adjusted his coat. "You’ll live. Giddy up, friend. I’ll be there on your wedding day, cheering with my Katherine beside ."
He gave Raymond a final pat on the shoulder and walked off with that confident strut only Aaron Knight could pull off.
Raymond grumbled, sipping his drink as he mumbled to himself, "Now that’s what betrayal looks like."
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