Chapter 3

VENUS

I wiped my eyes as I stepped into my mom’s ward. They must be swollen—I haven’t stopped crying, and Dain still isn’t picking up.

“Hey, Mom,” I said, forcing a cheery tone. Her smile faltered the moment she saw me.

“What’s wrong, honey? Have you been crying?” Of course she saw right through it. She always does.

“Yeah… my boss is being an ass again,” I lied. I didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth.

“Venus—” she started gently, but I cut her off.

“It was my fault. I don’t want to talk about it,” I murmured.

“Okay. You don’t have to,” she said softly, reaching for my hand.

I nodded, then asked, “Did Dain come here?”

“No... is he back home?” Her voice perked up with hope, and I hated that. I’ll never understand how she still adores that man. I loathe him. He’s done nothing but ruin our lives. And some twisted part of me resents her for letting him stay.

“No, he hasn’t,” I said, bitterness lacing every word. She noticed, of course.

“Venus—”

“I have to go,” I interrupted again. “You need to rest. Your chemo starts next week.” The lie stung my throat. God, I needed to make it real—and soon.

“Alright, darling. Take care.” We hugged, and I left the ward.

The hospital wasn’t far, so I walked. Every step was heavy with thoughts—how to raise that much money in a few days. And then… his voice echoed in my mind. Marry me. Was Mr. Sinclair serious? Was it a game? A trap?

I couldn’t believe I was even entertaining the thought.

When I got home, I noticed the front door slightly ajar. My heart sank. I knew I locked it. That could only mean one thing—Dain was back.

I pushed the door open. He was sprawled across the couch, reeking of alcohol, passed out. Disgust crawled through my skin.

I grabbed a cup of water and dumped it over his face. “Get up, you asshole!”

“What the fuck?!” He shot up, sputtering. “You insolent brat!”

“You went through my stuff and took my money. Where is it?!” I yelled, my voice shaking with rage.

“You stingy bitch. You had that kind of cash stashed and watched Billy harass me for payment?” he slurred, his eyes bloodshot, wild with entitlement.

My fists clenched. He was drowning in debt from his gambling. My mother had begged me to help him, but I refused. I was the one saving for her chemo.

“Where is it, you deadbeat?” I spat. “I don’t owe you anything!”

“Paid off Billy... and got my next fix,” he shrugged like it was nothing.

“That money was for Mom’s chemotherapy!”

“Why waste it on her? She’s gonna die anyway.”

Snap.

“Shut up. Shut your fucking mouth!” I screamed. And then he hit me.

“That’s no way to talk to your father,” he sneered. “Didn’t your mother teach you—”

I saw red. My gaze landed on a broken glass shard on the floor. I grabbed it and pointed it at him.

“Get out. Get the hell out before I do something you’ll regret.”

His smugness faltered. He lifted his hands and backed toward the door.

“Listen—”

“I said leave!” I snarled, stepping forward.

He stumbled out.

The second the door shut, my knees buckled. I stood there, chest heaving, drowning in everything that had just happened. And then the tears came, hard and fast.

After the breakdown, I cleaned up the house. My mind spun, desperate. I had no options left—none that didn’t come with pain. And then I thought of him again.

Mr. Sinclair.

Maybe I should’ve listened to his offer. But what if it was just another power play? Another game to humiliate me?

Or what if he was serious?

God, I hated him—but I was desperate. And desperate people do stupid things.

I picked up my phone and dialed his number. He answered on the fourth ring.

“About your offer this morning…” My voice was shaky. “Were you serious?”

“Yes,” he replied flatly, no hesitation.

“I... I’ll take it then,” I whispered, my pride already crumbling.

“Good,” he said simply, like he’d expected it all along. “We’ll discuss the terms and details tomorrow. At the office.”

Click.

Just like that, I’d signed away my freedom. But if it saves my mom? Then maybe—just maybe—it’s worth the price.