CHAPTER 4: The Benefactor’s Curse
I used to be Senna’s savior.
That’s what she called me. Every. Damn. Day.
After I started paying her tuition, she practically moved in. Cleaning, cooking, doing laundry–even though I had a housekeeper.
She’d drop to her knees every Christmas, bowing like I was some goddess. When I tried to stop her, she claimed it was “tradition from back home.”
I thought I’d found someone who understood gratitude.
I was so fucking naive.
The truth? The more I gave, the more she resented me. Every gift made her hate me more. Every kindness was a debt she’d make me pay for later.
The lower she bowed, the more she fantasized about standing on my throat. She wasn’t grateful. She was calculating. A snake who wanted everything I had. All that time in my house gave her access to Raven. I don’t know when they started fucking. Probably right under my nose while I was pregnant, trusting them both. By the time I found out, I was eight months along. I kept quiet for the baby. Then came delivery day. Senna’s fake suicide attempt. Raven abandoning me on the freeway…
The memories made me sick.
Suddenly, Senna appeared beside me.
Her breath was hot against my ear. “How the tables have turned, huh?” “Everything you had? It’s mine now.”
“And you? You’ve got nothing.”
I smiled coldly. “Including that piece of shit ex–husband. You can keep him.”
“You always did love my hand–me–downs. Clothes, bags… guess a secondhand husband fits your style.”
She raised her hand to slap me.
I caught her wrist.
She yanked free, hissing, “Doesn’t matter, I won.”
“You’re divorced. Your baby’s dead. You’ll never touch Raven’s money again.”
1/2
“Oh, Ivy… you never figured it out, did you? All those drinks I brought you? I was slipping you abortion pills the whole time…”
The world went silent.
I remembered the agony. The blood. My baby who never got to take a breath. White–hot rage exploded through me.
I backhanded her across the face. Hard.
Raven charged at me. “You fucking bitch!”
His foot connected with my ribs. I hit the floor gasping.
Pain exploded through my chest. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream.
He grabbed my hair, yanking my head back. “Apologize to her. NOW.”
I couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe.
He slammed me against the wall.
Senna’s heel caught me behind the knee. I went down hard, my kneecap cracking
against marble.
The businessmen watched like it was a show. Some looked ready to join in.
Then the door burst open.
The attendant’s voice went from sneering to worshipful: “Mr. Steele! Welcome!”
Tears streamed down my face.
My husband was here.
