Chapter 6

For the next few days, Julian didn't come back.

Lily was alone in the hospital, resting quietly.

The nurses gossiped sometimes — about the woman in the VIP suite: how Mr. Sterling doted on her, how she could have anything she wanted the moment she asked, how he never refused her a thing.

Lily listened without expression.

The cuts on her body healed. The wound inside grew colder and wider.

The day she was discharged, she took a cab home.

The car passed a private members' club, and she told the driver to stop.

She stood on the pavement looking at the glittering sign.

Julian came to places like this for business all the time. She'd never followed — too much noise, too much performance. But tonight, she walked in.

Dim lights. Thumping bass. She found a corner booth and ordered a bottle of something strong.

Then she started drinking.

Glass after glass. The liquid burned down her throat and scorched a path through her chest.

As if that could numb the thing in her ribcage that still, inexplicably, kept hurting.

She was beautiful — even pale and simply dressed, even drinking alone — and she drew attention. Before long, a man in a black button-down and a very expensive watch materialised at her elbow, glass in hand. "Haven't seen you here before. Join me for one? Maybe swap numbers?"

Lily looked up, about to answer.

A familiar voice cracked through the air above her head like a whip: "She's my wife. Get out."

Julian had appeared from nowhere, placing himself between Lily and the man, fixing the stranger with a look that cleared the area efficiently.

The man — who clearly knew exactly who Julian Sterling was — blanched, apologised twice in rapid succession, and disappeared.

Julian turned to face her, furious. "Lily, what the hell are you doing here? Look at the state of you. If I hadn't shown up just now, would you have given him your number?! You're still my wife!"

Lily tilted her head back and looked at him, eyes loose with alcohol, a slow, humorless laugh forming on her lips.

"Wife?" she said, tasting the word like something strange. "Not for much longer."

Julian didn't catch it. "What?"

"Julian!" Scarlett's sweet voice arrived from behind him, and she was already threading her arm through his, bright-eyed, playing surprise at finding Lily there. "Oh — Lily's here too? What a coincidence!"

She turned to Julian and pressed close. "Since we're all here, why don't we bring Lily along? Come join us in our booth! You always said we should try to get along, didn't you?"

Julian frowned, glancing between them, clearly uncomfortable.

But Scarlett had already wrapped a hand around Lily's arm — grip surprisingly firm — and was pulling her through the crowd before Lily could object.

The booth was full. Julian's circle: business associates, a scattering of young women with dramatic makeup. When Julian arrived with Scarlett and Lily in tow, a beat of silence fell over the group. Things were slightly awkward.

Scarlett broke it cheerfully, as if she owned the room. "Come on, everyone, keep going! Lily's here too — the more the merrier!"

Someone suggested Truth or Dare.

The first round, Scarlett drew the losing card: find a stranger and take his belt.

Julian's brow furrowed. "Don't go. I'll take the penalty for you."

But Scarlett laughed, batted his hand away. "It's just a game, Julian. Don't be jealous~" She kissed his cheek and slipped out.

Julian's jaw tightened. His eyes stayed fixed on the door.

She was back quickly, belt in hand, triumphant — but she'd brought company.

The man who followed her in was the kind who'd been drinking too long. His gaze roamed over Scarlett's body openly. He leaned toward her with an ugly smile. "I gave you the belt, beautiful. One little kiss isn't too much to ask."

"You're a dead man."

The words exploded from Julian like a thunderclap. He launched off the sofa, grabbed the nearest bottle off the table, and brought it down on the man's head.

Smash.

Glass everywhere. The man screamed and crumpled.

Julian wasn't done. He put him on the floor and kept going — punch after punch — until the marble was slick and Scarlett was clinging to his arm, sobbing: "Stop — Julian, stop, you'll kill him—"

He stepped back, chest heaving, still radiating fury.

A look at the man on the floor. A look at Scarlett, shaking and tearful.

He scooped her into his arms.

"We're leaving."

She buried her face in his neck and murmured: "Julian… your wife's still here."

He paused for barely a second. His eyes found Lily in the corner — silent, unreadable.

"She can find her own way."

He walked out without looking back, carrying Scarlett through the door.

The booth fell into chaotic disarray.

Lily sat in the corner, forgotten.

Time passed.

Then the man on the floor — the one Julian had nearly beaten to death — twitched. He pulled himself upright with obvious effort. Blood was smeared across his face. His eyes, when they finally focused, found Lily.

"So you're his wife…"

He dragged himself toward her, each step unsteady, a sound in his throat that might have been a laugh.

"He nearly killed me… for some girl…"

"So I'll kill his wife… eye for an eye…"

He grabbed a nearby empty bottle.

And brought it down on Lily's head.