My Bright Future Was Buried by His Hate

On the eve of our college graduation, the senior who had promised to meet me at Cambridge tied me to a black pine in the mountains, claiming he wanted to help me "blow off some steam."

He bit my ear gently.

"Tonight, this place is all mine. I'll help you. Just give your body to..."

But a second later, he bound me mercilessly with thick rope, dragging a glowing neon sign toward the side of the highway and driving it into the dirt.

[FRESH, TENDER FLOWER!]

He stood back and watched my humiliating terror with the pure, unadulterated joy of revenge.

"Years ago, your father hired men to gang-rape my mother. She went insane for the rest of her life, and I had to bear the relentless stigma of being a rapist’s bastard!"

"The daughter pays the father’s debts! Sienna, today is your turn!"

My brain exploded in a deafening, blinding roar.

"Let me go! I'm going to die here!!"

He simply turned his back with callous grace, walking away to pursue his Ph.D. overseas.

For three agonizing days and nights, countless strange men came off the highway to claim their prize. I plunged into severe bipolar disorder. I, who was practically guaranteed a spot to study at Cambridge University, entirely missed my chance to take the entrance exams.

My father committed suicide. My mother suffered a complete psychotic break.

And I, armed with the scandal of that sickening video, drove headfirst into the Sapphire Club, cementing myself as their top escort for five long years.

When we finally met again, I was actively straddling a sweaty, obese old man.

Before I could even finish the session, Julian yanked me off the client like a madman.

"Didn't you graduate from college? Are you really this fucking cheap now?"

But I only tilted my head back, staring numbly at the club's dim ceiling.

"Mr. Reed, please step aside. Don't delay my business."

The older man, thoroughly satisfied by what I had done so far, eagerly wanted another round. He reached straight into his pocket, pulled out a thick wad of cash, and stuffed it into my bra. His gaze dragged heavily across my lips, thick with implication.

I let out a soft, airy chuckle.

"Mr. Wang is a very important potential client of mine. I'll make sure to serve you right, keep you nice and comfortable..."

Ignoring Julian completely, I slowly leaned closer to Director Wang and lowered my head. My hair slipped off my shoulders, cascading down to hide half of my face.

Just as I prepared to get to work, Julian lunged. He clamped his hand violently around my throat and slammed me backward into the wall.

"Sienna, what the hell are you doing? Are you actually going to open your fucking mouth for him?!"

His eyes flickered erratically, locking intensely onto my lips.

It was exactly like five years ago, when he got so ruthlessly jealous of me standing too close to a male classmate that he forcefully pinned me down and kissed me.

"Sienna, have you ever been kissed before? Do you want to try it with me?"

I could never forget that innocent first kiss beneath the old oak tree. It was sweet, laced with a faint, minty coolness.

But now, I wished to God I had never met him.

I choked back my tears and glanced sideways at Mr. Wang, who was shifting on the couch, visibly on the verge of throwing a wealthy tantrum.

"If Mr. Reed is feeling needy, you can pay for someone else to keep you company. Right now, I am Mr. Wang's girl."

I leveled my gaze at Julian. "My time is extremely expensive. Every minute, every second is cash. Have a little mercy on us bottom-feeders, big boss, and don't make my life harder than it is."

Julian ground his teeth together so hard the sound popped audibly over the thumping bass of the club.

I shoved him away, fished a condom out of my pocket, tore the foil wrapper open with my teeth, and prepared to mount the old man again.

Behind me, a sharp crack pierced the air. Julian had literally crushed a glass champagne flute in his bare hand.

"Are you that desperate for cash?"

"Whatever he gave you, I'll pay ten times that!"

I froze my movements and slowly looked back at him. I let a practiced, sickeningly seductive light bleed into my eyes.

"Is that right?"

I surged forward and shoved him hard onto the leather sofa, letting my body collapse into a soft, yielding pile against his chest. The thin strap of my dress slipped casually off my shoulder, exposing just enough skin. Right below my collarbone sat a dark, ugly bruise left by a rough customer the night before. I hadn't covered it up with concealer, and I certainly didn't intend to hide it now.

Julian swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing sharply in his throat.

I flashed him a radiant, artificial smile, lowered my head, and shifted down to sit right beside him. I draped one bare leg over his thighs, swinging it lazily back and forth.

"What's the matter? Mr. Reed is always surrounded by a cloud of beauties. Do you really need me to keep you company?"

His eyes swept over the faded hickeys left by other men scattered across my skin, travelling down to the disgusting, sticky residue still clinging to the inside of my thighs.

His hands clamped down on my waist, squeezing with enough savage force to nearly snap my spine in half.

His dry, calloused fingers heavily stroked my cheek, over and over again. Just as I leaned in, preparing to press my mouth to his, he violently jerked his head away.

A chilling flash of absolute disgust tore through his eyes.

"I'm a germaphobe."

"A cheap public ride like you... I find you filthy."

He placed a brutal, venomous weight on the word filthy.

"I didn't even touch you five years ago. What makes you think I'd lower myself to touch a whore who's been ridden and trampled by ten thousand men?"

I froze completely.

In a split second, my chest cratered—my heart physically aching as if it had been ripped straight down the middle.

How blindly, desperately had I loved him back then, to actually dare to offer myself to him the day before our graduation?

That night, he had smoothly coaxed me up the mountain, claiming he just wanted to help me relieve my pre-exam stress. I had worn his absolute favorite white sundress. My hair hung loose, the tips still heavy with the dampness of my evening shower. He stood waiting at the foot of the hill beneath a massive, swollen moon that cast his handsome face in harsh halves of light and shadow. He walked over, wrapping his strong arms around me from behind, resting his chin heavily on my collarbone. His breath was so hot, ghosting directly into my ear.

My entire body had gone rigid with anticipation. I remembered thinking so clearly: Whatever happens, it's him. For the rest of my life, it's going to be him.

My naive mind had been entirely consumed by the sweet promises he fed me—that he would wait for me right at the wrought-iron gates of Cambridge. That once I arrived to study abroad, we would finally, officially be together.

I used to think he refrained from saying "I love you" because he was terrified of distracting me, afraid I would mess up my graduate entrance exams.

It was only much later that I realized the sickening truth: it simply wasn't the right time yet.

He was just waiting for the perfect moment to shove me straight off a cliff into an endless, inescapable abyss.

My hollow memories shattered as Julian abruptly raised his hand and gave a dismissive wave toward the doorway.

The heavy door creaked open, and a man walked in—a man whose skin was entirely covered in a horrifying, blistering red rash.