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CHAPTER 58

Author: JeniGN
last update Last Updated: 2025-01-13 21:51:09

“Thank you,” I whispered, my heart swelling with emotion as I thought of him. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t just surviving—I was living. And for that, I hoped this happiness would stay with me forever.

—ANTONIUS POINT OF VIEW—

When Robert reported back about the gala and all the other updates on Kirsten and Vincent’s whereabouts, I felt something I couldn’t quite put into words. It wasn’t just anger or jealousy—it was deeper than that. Something inside me cracked, like a wound that had been quietly festering but now tore open completely.

The way Kirsten looked at Vincent, the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled at him—it was unbearable. She was falling into his trap, and I could do nothing but watch. How I wish I could save her, but here I am, powerless. A loser. She doesn’t even know me—not truly. What chance do I have against Vincent? He’s charming, calculated, and always two steps ahead.

For the first time in my life, I felt envy—not for his wealth or status, but fo
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    I asked, my tone steady but cold, my eyes narrowing at his hesitation. He shook his head, and that was all I needed to know. It wasn’t good. I let out a heavy sigh, already bracing myself for the worst. "Go on," I gestured, leaning back in my chair, my fingers drumming against the armrest. Robert shifted nervously, avoiding my gaze. "I heard... that the two are in a relationship. Officially." The words hit me like a freight train, knocking the air out of my lungs. I stared at the floor, my mind racing. Relationship. Already. The word echoed in my head, each syllable slicing through me like a blade. My shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world had settled on them, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak. The room felt suffocating, the air thick with an unspoken tension. My thoughts spiraled, each one darker than the last. Vincent. That bastard. He had won. Or at least, it seemed like he had. He’d managed to wrap Kirsten in his web of lies, and now she was his. My fists clenched a

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    If Kirsten was happy, if she truly loved Vincent, what right did I have to interfere? But then again, how could she love someone like him? He was selfish, manipulative, and incapable of genuine care. He was using her—just like he used everyone else. And yet... what if she didn’t see that? What if she fell for his charm the way so many others had? I gritted my teeth, the frustration boiling over. I wouldn’t let that happen. But I had to tread carefully. Vincent was expecting me to lash out. He wanted me to lose control. If I confronted him now, it would play right into his hands. No, I’d wait. I’d be patient. Because when the time came, I wouldn’t just win—I’d make sure Vincent had no pieces left to play. And Kirsten... I closed my eyes, picturing her smile, the one I used to see when she brought me lunch every day. I didn’t deserve her. Not after everything. But that didn’t mean I’d stop fighting for her. Even if it broke me. For weeks, every report Robert brought me f

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    Robert’s brows furrowed, concern etched across his face. "Sir, are you sure? The company—" I raised a hand, cutting him off gently but firmly. "The company will be fine, Robert. That’s where you come in." He blinked, caught off guard. "Me?" I nodded, leaning back in my chair and clasping my hands together. "I trust you. You've been by my side for years, and I know you’ll handle things with the utmost care. Keep an eye on Vincent and the company. Make sure everything stays in order." Robert hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Sir, if this is about—" "It’s not up for discussion," I interjected, my tone firm but not unkind. "I need this, Robert. I need to get away, clear my head, and… figure out what’s next for me." He exhaled deeply, nodding in reluctant agreement. "Understood, sir. I won’t let you down." "I know you won’t," I said, offering a small, tight smile. As he left the room, I leaned back in my chair, staring out the window at the sprawling cityscape. It fel

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    At first, it was subtle—a little more irritation in his tone, moments of unexplained frustration. But over time, those small instances grew into something far more toxic. He became short-tempered, often lashing out over the smallest things. He would get angry when I questioned his decisions or suggested ideas for the restaurants. The man who once looked at me like I was his world now barely acknowledged me unless it was about work.And yet, here I am, still in a relationship with him. Still living in the same house we once called a home. I tell myself it’s because I owe him everything—the opportunities he gave me, the education I pursued, the career I’ve built. But deep down, I know that’s not the whole truth.A part of me still clings to the memory of the man he used to be. The Vincent who would surprise me with flowers just because. The Vincent who made me laugh until my stomach hurt. The Vincent who told me he would always protect me.But that man feels like a distant memory now.I

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    “I’m not ungrateful, Vincent,” I replied, my voice trembling. “But you can’t keep throwing those things in my face every time we have a disagreement. I didn’t ask for any of this—I just wanted you. Us. But it feels like I’ve lost you somewhere along the way.” “You’ve lost me?” he scoffed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “No, Kirsten. I’m right here, working my ass off to give you the life you have now. And all I ask is for you to do your job and stop questioning me! Is that too much to ask?” Tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn’t let him see how deeply his words cut. “Vincent, this isn’t about work,” I said, my voice cracking despite my best efforts to stay composed. “This is about us. About how we talk to each other, how we treat each other. You’ve changed… and I don’t know if I can keep doing this if all you see me as is an obligation.” For a moment, there was silence. His jaw clenched, and I could see the war raging behind hi

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    He never paid me for my work, never allowed me to earn anything of my own. Instead, he claimed it was his duty to provide. But his "providing" was just another way to control me, another way to keep me trapped in this toxic, suffocating relationship. Where could I possibly go now? How could I leave without a way to support myself? The question plagued my mind. Even if I found a way to escape, how would I survive? I was trapped, both physically and emotionally. I loved him so much, despite everything. How could I just walk away from the man I had spent so much time with, the man who had once made me feel cherished—even if his love now felt like a prison? The doubt gnawed at me, but so did the realization that I couldn’t keep living like this. I couldn’t keep suffocating under his control, feeling like I was nothing without him. I had given everything to this relationship, but in return, I had lost myself. The love I thought I had wasn’t love anymore. It was manipulation. But how coul

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    But each night I returned home, each night I silently entered my room, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was losing myself. I had become a prisoner, not just to his anger, but to my own fears and uncertainties. And so, I kept repeating the cycle, day after day. Office. Home. Avoidance. Silence. How much longer could I keep pretending? How much longer could I avoid the truth? "Why are you getting home late, huh?" His voice slurred as he looked at me with bloodshot eyes. I froze in the doorway, my heart pounding in my chest. There he was, standing in front of me, his face flushed with anger and intoxication. I knew this moment would come. I could feel the tension in the air, thick with the unspoken truth that I had been trying to avoid. "There's a lot of paperwork, Vincent," I stammered, trying to sound calm, trying to hide the panic that was rising in me. My words were shaky, betraying the fear I felt every time I had to face his unpredictable temper. "Tsk. You have a man! Who i

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    I hesitated in the doorway, clutching my bag tightly. “Vincent… maybe you should stop drinking tonight. We could… talk?”He laughed, the sound bitter and mocking. “Talk? About what? About how you’re avoiding me? Or maybe about how you’re secretly planning to leave me?”“I’m not planning to leave,” I said quickly, though my heart told me otherwise. “I just want us to… to fix this. To fix us.”“There’s nothing to fix, Kirsten,” he said, his voice rising. “You belong to me. You owe me. End of story.”The words hit me like a slap. I stood there, frozen, as he poured himself another drink. It was in that moment I realized that love alone wasn’t enough. Not when it came with chains. Not when it came with pain.I turned and walked to the bedroom, locking the door behind me. I didn’t cry. I just sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, wondering how much longer I could keep pretending everything was fine.That night, I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the locked door. I could s

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    "To the company," I instructed the driver curtly. The ride was silent, save for the low hum of the engine. My thoughts were my only companion, cycling between Kirsten’s tearful face, her whispered pleas, and the resolve I felt to make things right. The mere idea of Vincent’s name on her lips while she lay with me was enough to harden my expression further. Arriving at the company, I stepped out and adjusted my coat, taking in the towering glass facade of the building I had once called my second home. It felt surreal to be back after all these years, but this wasn’t a time for sentimentality. I walked through the grand entrance, my presence commanding attention as employees turned their heads, whispering among themselves. I barely registered their reactions as Robert approached, falling into step beside me. "Vincent has been notified of the meeting. He’s waiting for you in the conference room," Robert informed me, his voice steady. "Good," I replied, my tone firm. "I want privacy.

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    “No matter what.” Morning arrived, and as I opened my eyes, I was met with the emptiness of the bed beside me. She was gone—just as I had expected. A bitter sigh escaped my lips as I raked my fingers through my disheveled hair, sitting up slowly. I couldn’t help but wonder—did she realize I wasn’t Vincent? Did she finally understand that the man she thought she was with wasn’t the one she once loved? My gaze drifted to the pillow and sheets where she had lain, the faint scent of her still lingering. My chest tightened as my eyes fell on the small red stain on the pristine white fabric. The realization hit me like a freight train. I was her first. Kirsten had been with Vincent for years, but he had never claimed her in the way I did last night. She gave herself to me, not to him. That knowledge sent a surge of possessiveness coursing through me—a selfish, primal satisfaction that I couldn’t quite suppress. She chose me, even if unknowingly. But beyond the pride was something deeper

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    "To check if I have another man? To make sure I remember that I’m nothing without you?" Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. What the hell had she been through? She looked at me with such pain, such anger, and yet all I could see was her vulnerability. It tore me apart to hear her speak this way, to see her reduced to this. I fought the urge to grab her, to shake her, to tell her that she was everything—that she was strong, beautiful, and didn’t need a man like Vincent to define her worth. But now wasn’t the time. She was too lost in her emotions, too drunk to comprehend anything I could say. Instead, I stayed silent, letting her vent, letting her pour out the anguish she had been carrying. But inside, my resolve hardened. Whatever Vincent had done, whatever pain he had caused her—I would make it my mission to ensure Kirsten never felt like this again. She deserved better, and if she couldn’t see that right now, then I would make damn sure she did someday. She began hitting

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