Chapter 2
“Let’s go check out a few places–nothing too fancy, just something… affordable.
How about a used Toyota Corolla? You’ve always said you liked the idea of something practical.”?”
Suddenly, a well–dressed woman stepped in front of us.
Before I could react, Charles swiftly placed himself between me and the stranger.
“Tracy, what are you doing here?” Her voice was soft, almost too gentle.
The woman, her voice dripping with sweetness, replied, “Just choosing a car…”
Charles cleared his throat, cutting her off,
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and turned back to me with an apologetic
look.
“Vicky, something urgent came up at work. Let’s buy it another day…”
As they walked away, I immediately recognized her.
Tracy Davis. The school’s queen bee. The kind of girl who thought money could buy anything–including cruelty.
While I kept my head down, careful to hide my true identity, she reveled in her wealth, flaunting it like a badge of honor.
And every day, she found a new way to remind me of my place.
Each morning, I’d arrive at school, my stomach already in knots from the thought
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of what awaited me.
Opening my locker was a gamble–one that always ended in defeat. Some days, it was a mess of rotten food stuffed inside, the smell so unbearable that I had to hold my breath just to get the door closed.
Other times, it was worse–my textbooks shredded, pages scattered like confetti, mocking me with every crumpled corner.
Tracy’s cruelty had a way of echoing through the halls, her voice carrying just loud enough to cut through everything else. She would always have something to say about my clothes–always just loud enough for me to hear. “Did your parents buy you that at a thrift store?”
She had made sure the entire school thought I was a charity case.
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was as a
I wasn’t just poor in their eyes charity case, a scholarship studem wwbitgang multiple jobs just to get bybyby
And here she was, still with that arrogantant high–and–mighty attitudejede
She shot me a smug glance beforerstgurtingur off.
Charles always told me he loved me, thatatat his marriage to Tracy was just a familylily obligation, nothing more. He swore it wasn’hint about love, that he’d never stopcaring forofor
- me.
But his actions? They spoke a different truththi
His phone was always buzzing withtherers name, even when I was right next to himm
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Gifts? For me, a last–minute thought. For her, lavish trips, jewelry, everything I could never have.
Whenever Tracy had something–whether a party or a gala–Charles was there, clearing his schedule. But when I had something important? He’d cancel, show up late, or not show up at all.
In public, we were strangers. He’d hold her hand, whisper in her ear, all the affection I longed for, given to her so freely.
At night, in his sleep, I’d hear him whisper her name. “Tracy, I’m sorry.”
Back at my apartment, my best friend Ada called. “Vicky, you won’t believe it! Charles loves you so much! I heard he booked the Four Seasons Hotel New York for the engagement ceremony. Venkat,
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his assistant,told me he spends hours researching the perfect flowers and picking the ones that remind him of you every time he has a moment to spare!!”
My heart twisted in bitterness. Those flowers weren’t for me. They were to make Tracy look perfect, glamorous.
I thought back to that rainy night last year when my car broke down in the middle of nowhere. Charles drove for hours through the storm to rescue me, arriving with a blanket and a thermos of hot tea, just to make sure I was warm and safe. He stayed by my side, talking to me softly, until I could finally stop shivering and calm down.
He loved me then, enough to sacrifice everything.
And now? Now he wanted me to be his
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secret mistress.
Just as Ada’s call ended, I received a message from the manager of the city’s most luxurious car store.
“Mr. Wilson has his eyes on the car you booked. He insists on buying it for Tracy Davis!”
“Charles says he’ll pay any price. He wants Tracy Davis to be the most dazzling bride in the city…”
Tears flooded my eyes uncontrollably.
“Such an opportunity, If she wants it… thirty million.”
