Chapter 2

The second time, he smashed my phone.

All because Leo sent me a text asking if I wanted to go to the mall with him on Saturday.

When Dylan saw the words "spend time with me," his face darkened instantly.

"Does he not have any friends of his own?"

"He was just asking if I was free," I said quietly.

Dylan grabbed my phone and threw it hard against the hardwood floor.

The screen shattered into a web of cracks.

I knelt down to pick it up, but Dylan stepped on my hand, grinding his boot down.

"Chloe, don't forget. You are married to me now."

A piece of shattered glass sliced into my finger.

Beads of bright red blood welled up.

When Dylan saw the blood, he panicked again.

"I didn't mean to do that!"

"Don't cry, baby. I'll buy you a new one. The newest iPhone, okay?"

That night, he held me tight and cried.

He told me about his childhood, about how his parents' toxic relationship made him deeply insecure.

He said he worked so hard just to give me a perfect life. He said if I truly loved him, I would tolerate his temper.

Listening to his soft, broken voice, my heart actually softened. I pitied him.

But then, the violence became a routine.

When he drank too much, he would choke me until I couldn't breathe.

When his business went badly, he would throw heavy glass ashtrays at my feet.

He went through my phone constantly. If he couldn't find anything, he accused me of deleting messages.

Once, while he was away on a business trip, I slipped away to visit my parents.

Leo noticed the dark purple bruises on my wrists. His face went entirely pale.

"Chloe... who did this to you?"

I quickly pulled my sleeves down. "I just bumped into a cabinet. It was an accident."

Leo's lips trembled. Tears spilled over his eyelashes.

"You're lying to me."

My chest tightened, but seeing him cry so hard made me put my own pain aside to comfort him.

"I'm really fine," I lied. "Every married couple fights sometimes."

That was what my mother-in-law, Beatrice, had taught me.

Every time she saw the bruises on my face, she would just sigh.

"Chloe, Dylan just has a quick temper, but he has a good heart."

"Men face so much pressure out there in the business world. As his wife, you need to be more understanding."

My father-in-law, Richard, was even better at smooth-talking.

"A family's peace is worth everything," he would say. "If you make a big deal out of this, it will bring shame to both our families."

"You young people shouldn't overreact to every little argument."

I wanted to leave.

But I had no job.

I had no access to our bank accounts.

Dylan had locked my passport and social security card in his safe, claiming he was "keeping them secure."

He also threatened me using my family.

"Doesn't your brother run a salon?" Dylan had sneered. "I could shut that place down with one phone call. Try me."

I was terrified.

So, I kept an old, deactivated phone hidden in my closet, just in case.

I never thought I'd actually have to use it.

Until tonight.

Dylan came home reeking of whiskey.

The moment he walked through the door, he demanded, "Who was here today?"

"No one," I said.

He grabbed my phone and threw it onto the sofa.

"Then explain this UberEats order on your Snapchat? Two boba teas?"

I froze.

This afternoon, Leo had been worried I was lonely, so he ordered me some tea and cake.

He had left a note on the delivery order: Drink something sweet and smile, Chloe!

Dylan stared at the note and let out a cold, sick laugh.

"Your sissy brother again."

"Does he think I can't control you?"

"It was just boba, Dylan!" I screamed.

The next second, Dylan grabbed the plastic cups and hurled them against the wall.

The cups exploded, and the brown liquid splattered across the clean white wallpaper, dripping down like blood.

He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me toward the entryway.

"Are you deaf, Chloe? Do you not understand a word I say?"

I struggled, which only made him pull harder.

My head slammed violently against the corner of the heavy wooden cabinet.

For a second, my vision went completely black.

Something warm and wet began to trickle down my neck.

Even Dylan seemed startled by the amount of blood.

But instead of helping me, his eyes went cold. He immediately locked the front door from the inside.