Chapter 2

Vincent stood beneath the dimly lit crystal chandelier, his demeanor as cold as ice.

"Serena, being stripped naked must have been excruciating, right? Now you finally understand Isabella's suffering, don't you? Guess you've learned what it means to treat people the way you want to be treated."

Vincent stared down at the trembling woman clutching her last vestiges of clothing, his eyes blazing with contempt. He would never forget the video Isabella had shown him today, nor the tears she'd shed.

If his men failed to arrive in time, what would those thugs Serena hired do to Isabella? He couldn't even begin to imagine.

"It was all her doing!" Serena suddenly burst into tears. "How many times do I have to explain this before you believe me? I never hired anyone to harm Isabella! And the person in the video isn't me!"

He believed every word Isabella said, simply because she was the woman he loved.

Despite Serena's inaction, he convicted her based solely on the fabricated video and Isabella's lies, and demanded that his men strip her naked...

Serena was lost. She'd loved Vincent for ten years, ever since they were kids. How could he refuse to even hear her out?

Vincent saw Serena's explanation as nothing but an excuse. Without warning, he grabbed her by the throat.

"So you're saying Isabella faked a video just to set you up? That she hurt herself on purpose? Who do you think you are? Serena, if I don't teach you a lesson, you'll never admit it, will you?"

Serena felt suffocated, but she bit her lip and retorted, "Why should I admit something I never did?"

"Very well. Let's see how long you can keep denying it!"

Vincent let out a furious laugh, scooped her up, and hurled her toward the bodyguards.

"A gift for you!"

The strong men all came over, and her clothes were completely torn.

The feeling of being overpowered and violated broke Serena completely. She desperately shielded her stomach with her hands.

"Stay away from there!" She screamed at Vincent, her face streaked with tears, as she raised her head. "I'm pregnant with your child! Vincent, six weeks ago, that night when you were drunk—don't you remember how rough you were with me? You came inside me!"

The air suddenly fell silent.

Vincent was struck by that blunt remark like a bolt of lightning.

His pupils constricted sharply, and he raised his hand to stop the bodyguard.

Six weeks ago. That night, he indeed lost control, pressing her against the floor-to-ceiling window and demanding it repeatedly. She cried and begged him to stop, but the damp, tight warmth made it impossible for him to hold back. He hadn't used any protection, and in the end, he finished inside her.

Vincent stared intently at her abdomen, his Adam's apple jutting out, the savage intent in his eyes now veiled in a dark, possessive lust.

Is that really his child?

Just as his eyes loosened...

"Vincent..." Isabella Wade, wrapped in his coat, leaned weakly against the stairway, clutching a few photos in her hands, her voice trembling. "She lied to you... Look at these."

Vincent took the photos.

All Serena. On the hotel bed, at the bar restroom door. Dressed haphazardly, her eyes vacant, cradled by different men, one of whom even slid his hand under her skirt.

Vincent's sanity snapped.

The brief rush of emotion he'd felt at the word "pregnant" twisted instantly into a wave of disgust and the rage of betrayal.

"Good job, Serena." Vincent snorted in derision, yanking her hair to force her to look up at him. "You're in my bed one minute, then acting like a free-for-all out there? Tell me—whose bastard are you actually carrying?"

"No! That's not true! I only have you!" Serena screamed in pain.

"Only me?" Vincent's eyes glinted with predatory intent, "You’re nothing but used goods—what makes you think you deserve to carry my child?"

He let go, wiped his hand in disgust, and ordered his men in a chilling voice, "Beat her. Kick that bastard out of her."

"No —"

The bodyguards, now unreserved, delivered vicious kicks to her protected abdomen with their stiff leather shoes.

The pain exploded.

Serena felt a sudden warmth surge through her lower body, and a crimson liquid gushed out, trickling down her thigh and staining the torn lace underwear red.

Trembling in the blood-soaked pool, she watched helplessly as Vincent embraced Isabella and turned to leave without a backward glance.