I realized my mistake.

When Emerson Gordon walked in and saw Isabelle Greene crying, he was furious: "Did you hit her?"

"Alice," he continued, "I've always thought you were a submissive woman, ideal for being my wife."

"But now, you've let me down."

My heart clenched painfully, and I let out a bitter laugh. "I'm just as let down by you."

"There's no point in two disappointed people staying together."

With that, I pulled my suitcase and headed for the door.

He stopped me, his voice low and threatening: "Are you sure you want to go? You think you can make it in New York without me?"

I knew what Emerson was capable of. There was someone who had crossed him once, and I never heard or saw that person again in this city. Emerson had the means and influence to ruin anyone.

But I never thought he'd use such threats on me.

"I'll do better without you."

I turned and walked out.

Outside, heavy snowflakes were falling. I remembered how it was snowing like this when Emerson first took me away from my family. I was still in high school then, and I had just gotten into an Ivy League university after much hard work.

My parents hit me and yelled at me, forbidding me from going to college. They said, "Girls don't need that much education."

Then, Emerson showed up unexpectedly, gently draping a coat over my shoulders and asking, "Would you like to come with me?"

In that moment, I felt my heart soften.

"Alice, what are you doing here?"

A car driven by one of Emerson's buddies pulled up in front of me. It was Rocky Nichols, the guy from the club earlier, sitting in the passenger seat, with another man I didn't recognize in the back. I could feel the stranger's eyes shamelessly checking me out.

"Running away from home, huh?" Rocky asked, with a smirk.

I had zero fondness for him. Every time Emerson took me out, Rocky would belittle me, calling me just a stand-in, claiming Emerson didn't really care for me. My good mood would vanish instantly, and Emerson wouldn't do anything; he'd simply say, "Alright, Rocky, quit teasing your sister-in-law."

This time, Rocky crossed the line, flaunting another woman to Emerson right in front of me, mocking me. As expected, Emerson did nothing.

I tightened my grip on my suitcase handle. "None of your business," I snapped, turning to leave.

The man in the backseat suddenly got out. "Hey, don't go, sis. Come hang out with us," he said.

Rocky chuckled nastily. "Leo, you've got guts, messing around with Emerson's girl!"

Leo, as he was called, seemed unfazed. "Emerson's not into her anyway; she's just a stand-in. Even if he hears I messed with her, he won't care."

My heart sank. I knew all too well that Emerson wouldn't care. I bolted, but Leo grabbed my arm, pulling me back towards the car. "Don't touch me!" I yelled.

Leo's eyes lit up. "Her voice is just like Saoirse's," he remarked.

Rocky sneered, "That's probably the only thing Emerson noticed."

"Okay, if you're going to mess around, do it fast. I'm stepping out for a smoke," Rocky said, getting out of the car. "And it’s best if Emerson never hears about this."

Leo pinned me down, his grin repulsive. "You're such a coward, scared of nothing."

"Let me go! Let me go!" I fought as hard as I could. I had warned Emerson about staying away from Rocky because I sensed he was trouble. But Emerson never listened; he'd always say, "He's been my buddy since we were kids." Meaning, I had no right to make such judgments.

Before I realized it, Leo was calling Emerson. "Emerson, found your girl on the street. You mind if I have a little fun?" He laughed.

The man on the other end paused for a couple of seconds before speaking slowly, "Alice, do you want to come back? If you do, I'll come get you."

I understood his threat. If I said no, Leo would continue. I bit my lip, anger bubbling inside. "No, I'm not coming back."

"Emerson, I'm never going back."

I could eventually accept that he didn't love me, but I couldn't accept being coerced.

"Fine, then I won't come for you." He hung up. Leo’s hand moved to touch me, his smile wicked. "See, I knew Emerson wouldn't care about you. You're just trash, a filthy excuse for a woman!"

With a ripping sound, my shirt was torn open. Despair churning inside me, I fought back, but it was pointless. I could only scream for help. As he was about to yank down my pants, someone suddenly flung the car door open.

"You've got three seconds to let her go."