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Chapter 5

Author: Flower Sock
Before the Jacobson family's downfall, Anathea had been Adam Jacobson's cherished only daughter. As the child of a high-ranking government official, she'd grown up pampered, untouched by hardship.

Yet, after marrying Gregory, she'd been treated like nothing more than a maid. And now, she'd been sold to a place like this to entertain clients.

No. Anathea would never accept this fate.

"I'm Gregory Sinclair's wife! If you dare touch me, he won't let you off!" Anathea shouted.

Even now, she clung to the hope that Gregory's name could protect her and get her out of this nightmare.

"You're Mrs. Sinclair?" The woman, Melissa Stewart, laughed like she'd just heard the best joke of her life.

Her tone dripped with mockery as she continued, "If you're Mrs. Sinclair, then I must be the governor's wife! Everyone knows Mr. Sinclair is still single. And you dare call yourself his wife? Are you delusional?"

Anathea opened her mouth to argue but found herself speechless.

Gregory had never acknowledged her publicly. Even their marriage felt like something meant to be kept in the dark. No one would believe she was his wife.

Just when Anathea thought she couldn't feel worse, Melissa added, "Let me tell you something. This place is full of mistresses and lovers rich men have grown tired of.

"They send them here to be played with by other distinguished guests in exchange for an easier climb to the top. Who knows? Maybe your man is the one who sold you off."

The words hit Anathea like a bolt of lightning, shaking her to her core.

No. That was impossible. Gregory wouldn't do that.

He might hate her, but she was still Xander's mother.

Besides, in the heat of the moment, he'd whispered her name in the dark. He couldn't be that heartless.

And yet, Frankie's words echoed in her mind. "Our boss said we can do whatever we want with you."

Anathea clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms.

"Hurry up and change! The VIP guest is waiting!" Melissa grabbed Anathea's collar impatiently, yanking her up.

"No!" Anathea didn't know where she found the strength, but she shoved Melissa away and bolted out of the private room.

"Bitch! Get back here!" Melissa screeched, chasing after her.

Anathea ran like a fugitive, desperate to escape this hell.

She had to find Gregory. She had to ask him herself if this was his doing. Did he truly hate her that much?

Anathea had no idea how far she ran, but eventually, exhaustion caught up with her. She stumbled and fell hard. Pain shot through her knee as it swelled up, forcing her to suck in a sharp breath.

She struggled to get up.

"Greg, try this."

A familiar voice floated from a nearby private room. It was Natalie.

And the "Greg" she was speaking to…

Anathea's breath hitched. She anxiously fixed her gaze on the narrow gap of the private room's door.

Through the narrow opening, she saw Gregory's figure inside, just as she'd expected. Her eyes lit up. She lifted her hand to push the door open.

"Ms. Whitman, can I call you Mommy Nat?" Xander's small voice cut through the air.

Mommy Nat? Nat…

Anathea stood frozen, as if struck by lightning.

So all those nights when Gregory had whispered "Nat" in the dark, he hadn't been calling for her. He'd been calling for Natalie.

She was nothing more than a substitute he used to vent his longing for the woman he couldn't have.

At that moment, Anathea felt as if all the strength had been drained from her. Her raised hand fell limply, landing on the floor for support.

"Of course, Xander. You can call me whatever you like." Natalie smiled sweetly before turning to Gregory with a hint of worry. "Greg, Ms. Jacobson has been gone for a day. Could something have happened to her?"

"Why are you bringing her up?" Gregory frowned. His voice was cold and indifferent. "No one cares if she lives or dies."

Those words echoed in Anathea's mind, over and over again.

She tried to laugh, but even that felt impossible. Tears slid down her cheeks, dripping onto her hand.

Just then, Melissa's voice rang out behind her. "Thought you could run? Get her back here!"

Anathea's eyes widened for a split second before she reached out to push the door open.

But just as she managed to nudge it a fraction of an inch, a hand grasped her by the ankle and yanked her backward.

Anathea cried out in desperation, "Gregory—"

Before she could finish, a hand clamped over her mouth. She was dragged around the corner.

"Bitch!" A sharp slap landed on Anathea's face. The pain exploded through her cheek. "If you disturb my VIP guests, I'll make sure you suffer for it!"

Blood trickled from the corner of her lips as her head whipped to the side.

The private room door suddenly swung open. Gregory stepped out, as if he'd just heard someone call his name.

Anathea struggled harder, but all that escaped her lips was a muffled whimper.

Melissa immediately apologized. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Sinclair. The new lady doesn't know the rules yet. Sorry to disturb you."

Gregory's expression darkened. "Then why is she still here? Get rid of her."

At that moment, Anathea's dry throat refused to make a sound.

Another slap landed, sending her sprawling onto the floor. From the corner of her eye, she saw Xander take Natalie's hand as they stepped out of the room.

"Dad, let's go home with Mommy Nat."

A soft blush dusted Natalie's cheeks, but she couldn't hide the joy in her eyes.

Anathea stared at them, a perfect picture of a loving family.

"See that? That's Mr. Sinclair's real wife. Who the hell do you think you are?"

Another slap landed on her face, echoing with the rumbling thunder in the sky, as if declaring how absurd and laughable her ten years of crushing on Gregory and five years of marriage with him had been.

Only now did Anathea understand that Gregory didn't just hate her. He wanted her gone so he could finally have his perfect life with the woman he truly loved.

She'd never mattered.

The rain poured outside, pounding against the window like the countless slaps that struck Anathea's face. The pain spread through her body, yet it was nothing compared to the devastation in her heart.

"Gregory…"

Watching his retreating figure, she called out his name with difficulty. Her voice was so faint it felt like it would disappear with the wind.

Her mind drifted to their simple and unremarkable wedding day. She could still hear the priest's question.

"Ms. Jacobson, do you take Mr. Sinclair as your husband, to love him for a lifetime?"

"I do."

The love she once had for Gregory had now turned into sharp daggers, stabbing into her already shattered heart.

"I will never love you again."

Lightning split the sky.

Just as Anathea's vision blurred and her consciousness began to slip into darkness, she thought she heard someone call her name.

"Anathea!"

A detached voice rang out, laced with an urgency that felt oddly out of place.

It was Gregory.

Anathea thought she really was beyond saving now that she'd even imagined hearing Gregory's voice. A bitter smile tugged at her bloodstained lips before she lost all strength and collapsed completely.

But instead of the cold floor, she fell into a cool embrace.

Once, she'd longed to throw herself into it with all her heart. Now, all she wanted was to push it away.
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