Under the starry sky, Jerry’s rough hands tore away the last scrap of lace from Barbara’s body.

She gasped—or tried to—but he sealed her lips with his own. Their breaths tangled, feverish, swallowing her half-hearted protest into broken, panting sighs.

Then a ringtone cut the night. Jerry’s brow furrowed. Annoyed, he fumbled for his phone, glanced at the screen, and released his grip on her slender waist.

He answered in French. “She’s here.”

Barbara’s skin, still flushed from his touch, met the cool night air. Before she could even form a complaint, the words that followed hit harder than any slap.

In the darkness, Jason’s voice carried clearly through the line. He replied in French, but Barbara’s mind translated every syllable into a cold, brutal truth.

“So she’s there. Don’t tell me you’re getting addicted to these little affairs, Jerry. Or have you forgotten you have a real fiancée?”

Under that vast, indifferent sky, Barbara felt herself plunge into an icy abyss.

Seven years. Seven years with Jerry.

Once, she had been the most promising painter at the Southborough Academy of Fine Arts. But on the eve of her first solo exhibition, her father’s company went bankrupt, drowning them in debt.

That was when Jerry appeared—her childhood friend turned savior. He cleared all her debts, brought her into his world, and cared for her with what she’d believed was devotion.

She thought he truly loved her. She believed he’d braved the gossip and opposition just for her.

Jason’s voice continued, dripping with casual cruelty.

“You and Claire are engaged anyway.” Amusement tinged his tone. “So what about Barbara? What are your plans for her?”

“Her?” Jerry let out a derisive snort, laced with contempt. “You think she’s some chaste saint? If she hadn’t crawled into my bed back then, using every trick in the book to seduce me, do you think I’d have spared her a second glance? Give her enough benefits, and she’ll behave. Besides, who else does she have to turn to now? Her bankrupt father? Or that mother of hers who does nothing but cry? Everything she has, I gave her. What right does she have to bargain with me?”

Barbara bit her lip until she tasted copper, forcing herself to stay silent.

So that was what she was in his eyes. A plaything. Disposable.

Jerry’s gaze, still dark with lingering desire, swept over her. His voice took on a taunting, vulgar edge.

“You have no idea. The way she moans… fucking obscene. Drives me wild. That milky-white skin, so soft to the touch… And the way her hips move, like a damn snake. Sets me on fire every time. Those legs… long, pale, wrapping around you until you forget your own name. And the sounds she makes… could melt a man’s bones. Much cleaner than the girls you find out there.”

Jason coughed, an awkward sound.

“Who are you trying to fool?” Jerry’s laugh was crude. He licked his lips, as if savoring the memory. “All the things I wouldn’t dare try with Claire… I’ve tried them all on her. Every position, every toy. The feeling… fucking incredible. Tell you what. After I’m married, I’ll pass her to you for a while. Consider it a gift from your brother. I’m not tired of her yet, but you can have a taste.”

“That’s… not really appropriate…” Jason’s protest was weak, his voice tinged with unmistakable excitement.

“What’s inappropriate about it? Just thinking about it gets me going! We could even… explore some new possibilities together. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Barbara couldn’t listen any longer. Every word from Jerry’s mouth felt like a slow, deliberate carving into her heart—a torture she could barely endure.

The world spun. One thought crystallized in the chaos.

Had Jerry been rotten from the very beginning?

He’d hung up the phone at some point. Now he picked up his discarded jacket from the floor and draped it over her shoulders.

Barbara stiffened, recoiling instinctively from his touch.

But Jerry didn’t press further. His attention was already stolen by his phone.

He didn’t even seem to register their closeness, didn’t realize she could see the screen clearly.

Intimate messages to Claire pierced her vision. Barbara turned her head away, unable to look.

Jerry fiddled with his phone for another long moment before tossing a casual sentence her way.

“Sweetheart, something came up at the office. Can’t stay. I’ll have the driver come get you. I’m heading out.”

With that, he strode to his car. The Lamborghini roared to life and disappeared in a cloud of dust.

It never even occurred to him whether she was safe out here in the middle of nowhere.

After all, he’d already left Claire waiting at the airport for forty minutes.

But he couldn’t be blamed, really. It was Barbara’s birthday today. He’d spent so long coaxing her, convincing her to wear the lace and come out here with him.

Watching the taillights vanish, Barbara let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh.

One sentence looped endlessly in her mind:

*Jerry, when did you start to rot?*

She drifted back to her apartment like a ghost. The blast of central heating did nothing to thaw the ice in her bones.

The room was pitch black, filled only with the sound of her choked sobs.

Her phone lit up on the coffee table—a vibrating rectangle of light.

She didn’t want to answer. But the caller was stubborn, insistent on reaching her tonight.

Taking a few shaky breaths, Barbara finally pressed accept.

Grant’s voice, familiar and warm, filled the silence.

“Barbara… will you marry me?”

“I know about you and Jerry… but I truly don’t care. I’ll wait for you. However long it takes.”

Barbara gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her nails dug into her palm, the sharp pain a counterpoint to the suffocating ache in her chest.

“Grant, I…”

Her voice was a dry rasp. “I will. I do.”

“But… are you really sure you don’t mind?”

“Jerry and I… it’s been so many years…” Her words faded to a whisper.

“Silly. I told you. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Grant’s voice was impossibly gentle.

“Loving you, waiting for you… it’s all my choice. My own wish.”

“I’ve waited ten years already. What’s a little more?”

*Ten years.* The words hit her like a physical blow, a sledgehammer to her ribs.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Hot tears spilled over, tracing burning paths down her cheeks.

She nodded fiercely into the phone, her voice thick with tears. “Okay… Give me two weeks. Just two more weeks to wrap things up here. Then we’ll get married. And never be apart again.”

Two weeks from now was her birthday. Seven years ago, on her most wretched birthday, Jerry had swooped in like a savior, pulling her from the fire.

She was someone who believed in finishing what she started. She’d use that day to say a final goodbye to Jerry.

Whenever he’d started to rot, she’d been tangled with him for seven whole years. A few more days wouldn’t change anything.

“Married? To whom?”

Jerry’s voice was a thunderclap, exploding right behind her, making her ears ring.

She jumped violently. The phone slipped from her grasp, hitting the floor with a sickening crack, the screen shattering.

She whirled around. There he stood, having appeared out of nowhere.

They’d been together for seven years. But in that moment, he felt utterly alien. Utterly repulsive.

She fought to keep her voice level. “My mother is pressuring me to go back home and get married.”

To her surprise, Jerry laughed.

“Barbara, baby… are you still mad at me?”

He strode forward, producing a delicate velvet box from behind his back and presenting it to her like a prize. “Look. Do you like it?”

Barbara took it coldly and set it on the side table without a word.

“Why so cold?” His voice held a thread of displeasure. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

He moved silently, coming up behind her, his hands reaching to circle her waist.

Barbara jerked away, spinning to face him, her body trembling uncontrollably.

She hated him. Hated his touch. Hated the faint, lingering scent of his cologne—the same one Claire always wore.

She looked at him, her gaze icy. “Jerry, what does it matter how expensive the things you give me are?”

“Tell me—what have you ever given me that could compare to what you’ve given Claire?”

Today was Jerry and Claire’s engagement banquet. All of Southborough’s elite had gathered for the occasion, while she was forced to hide like a shameful secret in this gilded cage.

Jerry’s expression stiffened for a moment before his smile returned. “Jealous?”

Barbara ignored him, turning back to the files spread across the desk.

He wasn’t about to let it go. Grabbing her shoulders, he forced her to face him, his tone turning sharp. “Barbara, what’s your problem?”

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to slip away from that banquet?” Closing the distance between them, his eyes darkened dangerously. “I came here with a gift just to make it up to you—and this is the thanks I get?”

Barbara almost laughed in his face.

Did he really think stealing a few minutes from his own engagement party was some grand act of charity?

“Envious?” His voice dropped to a murmur against her ear, thick with desire. “Be good for me tonight, and maybe I’ll get you a ring too.”

“Be a good girl. I promise, yours will be even bigger…”

His hands began to wander.

“Jerry, what do you even think I am?”

He caught her hand, pulling her roughly against his chest with a low laugh. “What do you think you are? Sweetheart, don’t be difficult. Do we really need to spell it out?”

His voice was a husky, seductive whisper—yet it sent a chill straight down her spine.

“You’re engaged, Jerry. Why are you doing this?”

Trembling, she shoved against his chest with all her strength, but his arms were like iron bands around her.

After a desperate struggle, she finally broke free.

She fled to the bathroom, snatched a wet wipe, and began scrubbing her skin where he’d touched her. Over and over, as if she could scour away the memory itself.

She felt filthy.

Jerry stumbled back from her shove, nearly losing his balance.

Watching her frantic scrubbing, his face darkened.

“Barbara, stop this,” he said, his voice low and rough with anger. “You know how I feel about you.”

“Stop this?” A bitter laugh escaped her. “Jerry, when have I ever *not* been ‘making a scene’ in your eyes?”

“I ducked out on my own party. I left my fiancée, my family, all our guests. Do you have any idea the pressure I’m under? I just wanted to see you. I just… missed you.”

“Missed me?” The words tasted like ash. If she hadn’t overheard his conversation with his friends a few days ago, she might have almost believed him.

At her scornful tone, the smile finally faded from Jerry’s lips, replaced by a chilling calm.

“Barbara, enough.”

“Just stay. Be good, and I’ll give you everything you want. Everything except my name. You know how this works. Claire is just a business arrangement. Once this all settles down, we can go back to how things were…”

“Go back?” Barbara laughed, the sound hollow. “To being your caged songbird?”