Fury filled in his eyes. His palm cracked across my face. "Faith, I’ve never let Abby suffer even the slightest grievance. How dare you use such disgusting tricks to hurt her? I should’ve never saved you back then—I should’ve let those stalkers do whatever they wanted to you!"
I shook my head desperately. Tears slipped into my lips, salty and bitter.
"Victor, you don’t believe me? You know how much I hate them—how could I ever—"
"You weren’t screaming about hate when you were on your knees, were you?" Victor’s face was dark, his laugh cold and mocking.
So, he had seen everything. Seen Abigail press me beneath her heel like I was nothing but an insect. Seen those men pin me down like I was filth beneath their hands.
Back then, he was the hero who had saved me. Now, he was the one offering me up to the wolves.
When I first debuted, I had attracted the attention of a group of obsessive stalkers. I’d get calls in the middle of the night—heavy breathing on the other end, never a word spoken.
When I danced on stage, I could feel the eyes on me. Some would crouch low, angling their phones to snap photos no one should be taking.