"You're so good at playing the lapdog. Why don't you bark a few times so I can learn from the best?"

I'd grown up surrounded by the works of master calligraphers and painters. I'd recognized Noel's handwriting on that slip of paper the moment I saw it.

Noel's face flushed crimson, his voice dripping with wounded innocence. "Ms. Sanchez, how could he humiliate me like this..."

A glass of red wine splashed over my head without warning.

Lauren yanked Noel into her arms protectively, glaring at me with open contempt.

"Laurence, enough! You won't do this, you won't do that, all you're good for is bullying someone younger than you. There's a limit to how unreasonable you can be!"

"You're a part-time calligraphy teacher making pocket change. Your salary's so pathetic I'd be embarrassed to use it for gas money."

"You only live the life you do because of me. Where do you get off thinking you can tell me what to do?!"

A sneer curled at the corner of her mouth.

"Noel actually helps me carry the load at the company. Forget swapping him into a party game. If he wanted the moon, I'd pluck it from the sky for him!"

"And what can you do for me? You wormed your way into a wedding with me without so much as a decent betrothal gift. You're nothing but a freeloader trying to cash in!"

"So, Laurence, take the money and sit down. If it's not enough, I'll give you more. But if you keep making trouble, I won't go through with the marriage license. Period!"

My chest ached, tight and suffocating.

So refusing to accept my wife kissing another man was "making trouble."

And five years of devotion, of building her empire beside her from nothing, amounted to freeloading.

But Lauren didn't know.

The betrothal gift had been ready for months. The assets were so extensive that cataloging everything had taken time. I'd planned to present it all the day we signed the marriage license, as a surprise.

Now I saw she didn't deserve it.

"Well, that works out perfectly. I was thinking the same thing."

My voice came out cold and flat. I turned, grabbed my coat, and headed for the door.

The moment I pulled open the villa's front door, a voice rang out behind me.

"Hold on!"

Lauren descended the staircase, chin tilted up, wearing a smile that wasn't really a smile.

"Laurence, that Canada Goose parka you're wearing. A hundred thousand dollars. I paid for it."

"If you've got the nerve to talk about breaking up, then don't walk out in my things. Or can you not afford to dress yourself?"

"Oh, and don't forget to leave every card I ever gave you."

The front door gaped wide open. Frigid wind laced with snowflakes bit into my neck.

But it wasn't half as cold as what I felt inside.

Last winter, right when the cold set in, she'd complained that the jackets I bought were cheap brands that couldn't keep me warm. She'd thrown them all out without asking. The next day, she handed me a Canada Goose parka and told me that things were better now, that she'd never let me freeze again.

Lauren knew all of this perfectly well. She was doing it to humiliate me on purpose.

In that moment, regret hit me like a wall.

Regret for misjudging who she really was all those years ago.

One of the guests stepped in, trying to smooth things over. "Lauren, it's below zero out there. Laurence is barely wearing anything underneath. Without that coat, he'll freeze. It's supposed to be a happy occasion. Don't let it end on a sour note. Just swallow your pride and make up with your husband. There's no shame in that."

Lauren, of course, saw it differently.

Her lips twisted into a mocking smirk.

"We haven't even signed the papers. What kind of husband is he? I spoiled him too much, that's all. Now he thinks he can throw around words like 'break up' whenever he pleases. He should be grateful I'm not making him walk out naked."

"Laurence, don't say I never gave you a chance. Apologize right now. Promise to get along with Noel from here on out. I'll forgive you, we'll sign the license like planned, and you'll still be the man of the Sanchez household."

Noel settled in close beside her, all smiles.

"That's right, Laurence. You already lowered yourself to being a kept man. What's with the pride all of a sudden? I'd quit while I was ahead if I were you."

"It's two in the morning, in weather like this. There's not a cab to be found out here, and the nearest hotel is miles away. You'll freeze to death on the side of the road."

The moment the words left her mouth, Lauren seemed to get an idea. She picked up her phone and dialed.

"Call every hotel and motel in Capital City. Laurence Henson is not to be given a room. Anywhere."

My heart plummeted.

This was Lauren's obedience test.

She wanted me to understand that she could dictate my life on a whim. She was training me to be docile, to swallow my pride and submit.

I drew a long breath, then slapped the bank cards down on the coffee table.

Without a second's hesitation, I pulled off the Canada Goose parka and tossed it into the fireplace beside me.

The flames surged, casting a bright glow across Lauren's stunned face.

I turned and walked straight into the blizzard without looking back.

The wind cut through me like a blade. Every step was a battle, my whole body shaking so violently my teeth rattled. I kept going until I found an internet cafe that was still open, and begged the owner for a cup of hot water. Only after I drank it did the feeling start returning to my fingers.

But within minutes, my eyelids grew impossibly heavy. I slumped forward and passed out.

Somewhere in the haze, I felt hands on me.

I forced my eyes open and found myself staring into the owner's greasy, bloated face.

The cafe that had been buzzing with people just moments ago was completely empty now. The metal security shutter had been pulled down over the entrance.

The owner leered at me.

"Hey there, pretty boy. Out here all alone this late at night. Nowhere to go, huh?"

"Poor little thing. Let me take care of you."

The water. He'd put something in the water.

Terror crashed over me like a wave.

I bit down on my tongue, hard, forcing myself awake through the searing pain.

I shoved him off me with everything I had and bolted toward the bathroom in the corner, slamming the door shut and locking it behind me.

I was about to call the police when Lauren's number flashed across the screen.

One percent battery. I stared at it, then clenched my jaw and answered.

The sound that came through was Lauren's breathless panting, thick with arousal.

"Laurence, where did you put those condoms I brought back from overseas last month? I need to show Noel a thing or two about wedding-night party games."

Her tone turned mocking.

"What, now that you know you can't survive without me, you went and stole them to sell? Is that how desperate you are?"

I choked down the nausea clawing up my throat and spoke as fast as I could.

"Lauren, I'm at an internet cafe on Guangfu Road."

"The owner is trying to assault me. Please, come get me—"

Lauren's voice went taut with alarm. "What? I'm coming right now!"

Then, the very next second, Noel's sneering laugh slithered through the speaker.

"Laurence, buddy, are all kept men as calculating as you?"

"I drove down that road just this afternoon. There's no internet cafe there. You're just pulling a sob story to guilt Ms. Sanchez into caving first, aren't you?"

"Ms. Sanchez, if you actually go, you'll only be rewarding his tantrums. Once you two are officially married, he'll threaten divorce every time he doesn't get his way. How embarrassing would that be?"

Before I could get a word in, Lauren exploded.

"Laurence, you are absolutely shameless! You'd stoop to a lie like that?!"

"Don't think for a second I'm going to coddle you this time. You want to come back? Fine. Tomorrow morning, you get on your knees in front of my office and tell me you were wrong!"

"Without me, that pathetic little salary of yours couldn't even cover rent on a decent apartment. You'd try to sell yourself on the street and people would turn you down for the lousy accommodations. Go sit somewhere and think about that!"

The line went dead. A heartbeat later, the screen went black.

Something inside me died with it.

Click.

The bathroom lock turned from the outside.

The cafe owner barged in, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and grinned.

"Where do you think you're going, pretty boy? This is my turf. You think I don't have the key to my own damn bathroom?"

"Trying to call your little girlfriend for help? I heard every word. She's too busy letting some other guy use those condoms to bother with you."

"Now be a good boy and take care of me. Don't worry, I'm not high-maintenance. I never bother with protection. Hahaha..."

In the depths of my despair, a thunderous crash erupted from outside.

The rolling shutter was forced open, and people stormed in.

"Let him go!"

It was officers from the nearby police station.

The internet café owner had driven out all the other patrons so he could assault me in peace. But someone had seen him slip something into my drink and quietly called 911 on their way out.

They rushed me to the hospital to have my stomach pumped, took my statement, and left me with a thick coat. I borrowed a charger from the front desk, and the next morning, I called the calligraphy class to resign.

Once that was done, I went to the mall next door, grabbed a cheap casual outfit, and got ready to fly home.

But the moment I stepped out of the mall, several of Lauren's bodyguards blocked my path.

"Mr. Henson, Ms. Sanchez is hosting a banquet at the Regalia Hotel today to celebrate Secretary Cobb's second anniversary. She's specifically requested that you come and perform for Secretary Cobb. If you'd please."

I frowned.

"Get out of my way, or I'm calling the police."

The lead bodyguard, Val Whitney, let out a contemptuous laugh.

"Go right ahead. Then we'll file a report too."

"Ms. Sanchez says the coat you burned last night was worth a hundred grand. That's enough to land you behind bars for a while."

I laughed in disbelief. So this was the trap they'd been waiting to spring.

"A hundred grand? I'll wire it to her right now."

But Val snatched the phone from my hand and smashed it on the ground at my feet.

"You ungrateful piece of shit."

"Without Ms. Sanchez, you couldn't even feed yourself. Who the hell do you think you are, playing lord of the manor? You haven't even signed the marriage certificate, and you think you're her husband? Take him."

They dragged me into a car and sped off.

When we arrived, the entire banquet hall had been decorated with staggering extravagance.

Noel, dressed in a tailored designer suit, had his arm around Lauren's waist as they worked the room, greeting guests.

He carried himself like the man of the house.

The irony cut deep.

Because Lauren had said she didn't want anything flashy, yesterday's wedding had been a bare-bones affair at some no-name motel. She'd only invited a handful of her personal friends, so most people in her circle didn't even know the wedding had happened.

I'd understood. I knew how hard she worked for her money. Besides, once I brought her home to meet my family, we'd throw a proper celebration. Everyone would see the announcement. The whole world would know.

So I hadn't minded.

But the Regalia was the most exclusive hotel in Capital City, operating on an elite membership system. Only those who met a certain threshold of status and wealth were even eligible to walk through the doors. A single banquet there ran into the millions.

And she'd booked it for Noel's anniversary. She'd even invited the press.

When Lauren spotted me, she walked over with a frown.

"The owner of the calligraphy class said you quit. Said you're leaving. Where do you think you're going?"

My voice came out flat. Dead.

"Home. To take care of my grandfather. Is that a problem?"

A smug, superior smile spread across her face.

"So you've finally figured it out. Without my protection, you can't survive a single day in this city. Your only option is crawling back to your little village to slop the pigs."

"Tell you what. If you wash all of Noel's underwear in front of everyone today, nice and clean, I'll forgive you. Tomorrow we'll go sign the marriage certificate, just like we planned."

Her assistant brought over a small basket. There had to be at least a dozen pairs inside.

Clearly, they'd had quite the night.

My hands had been protected my entire life. My family had never let me do so much as a single chore.

I stared at her, unable to process what I was hearing.

"Lauren, did your brain and your ass switch places? Every word out of your mouth is pure garbage."

"You two spent my wedding night making out and sleeping together, and now you want me to wash his dirty underwear?"