Another man’s voice joined in, sharper. “She doesn’t. She was just warming his bed and playing house. Thought she got lucky.”
Laughter spread across the room.
My ears rang.
“Honestly,” another man smirked, eyeing me up and down, “fifty-two million isn’t that much. Dahlia, if you serve me tonight and don’t disappoint, I might just give you sixty million. Easy, right?”
More laughter.
I felt like I was shrinking, like the air was being sucked out of my lungs.
Argus didn’t stop them.
He didn’t even look annoyed.
“That’s none of my concern,” he said lightly. “How she gets the money has nothing to do with me.”
Something inside my chest cracked.
“Argus…” My voice came out weak, barely there. “I didn’t humiliate Celine. She lied to you. I wouldn’t do that. Why would I—”
“Why wouldn’t you?” he replied, tilting his head slightly, almost curious. “You really want to argue about that?”
My body went cold.
The memories came back, sharp and cruel. After Celine came back from overseas... I was late cooking for her. Just late. The food wasn’t even bad. And Argus? He locked me outside. Three days. No food. No water. I remember sitting on the cold floor, my hands shaking, wondering if I was going to pass out.