"I don't care about Victoria," Brandon’s voice drifted through the crack in the door, cold and annoyed. "She’s just a placeholder. Honestly, by our ninth marriage, I'm going to dispose of her and cut off her mother's medical funds for good. Paula told me she’s finally getting tired of traveling. She wants to settle down soon, and when she does, I'm going to propose to her."
The cake slipped from my hands, ruining the icing on the carpet. I ran out of the club and stumbled into a cheap bar, drinking until I couldn't feel the ground beneath my feet.
I cried until my eyes were swollen shut.
But the nightmare was just beginning. On my way home, walking through a dark street, a group of thugs dragged me into a filthy alley. I was terrified.
As they tore at my clothes and hit me, I managed to dial Brandon’s number, praying he would come save me.
The phone rang and rang, until he finally rejected the call.
Later, I found out he was busy picking Paula up from the airport because she had decided to make a surprise visit.
I was beaten, robbed, and left in the dirt. I had to drag my own bleeding body to the hospital. I lost my baby that night on a cold linoleum floor, all alone.