Even then, the harassment didn't stop.
My father's company—the one he'd built over a lifetime—was driven into bankruptcy. That same day, he collapsed from a heart attack and died.
My mother couldn't bear the grief. She swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills and left this world.
I grabbed a knife and went after Brent.
He had me committed to a psychiatric facility, where I was tortured until I died.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the night before the wedding.
The night I caught Brent Fleming kissing that club girl.
——
The flickering lights stretched their intertwined shadows into something grotesque.
I hid in a dark corner, biting my lip until I tasted blood just to stop myself from rushing over and tearing him apart.
Because I knew—better than anyone—that this was all part of Brent's plan.
That's right.
He wanted me to catch him cheating. He was forcing me to be the one to call off the wedding.
He'd calculated that my temper would never let me swallow this quietly.
The moment I initiated the breakup, he'd demand the jewelry back and turn the tables on me.
He'd accuse me of swapping $52,000 worth of gold—520 grams he'd given me six months ago—for worthless plated silver.