Chapter 3

I pretended not to hear the biting sarcasm in his voice.

I just gave a stiff nod and hurried out the door.

The next morning, I showed up at his sprawling estate, right on time.

Cecily Ashford walked out to greet me.

She poured me a cup of tea, a smile playing on her lips.

"Elowen. It’s been a while." She watched my confused expression, clearly enjoying herself. "

You probably forgot. Kaelen and I were in the same program at college. I used to see him chasing after you all the time."

So that was why her name sounded so familiar.

Cecily had known him just as long as I had.

"I was so jealous of you back then," she murmured. "The golden boy. He was so cold to everyone else, but he only had eyes for you."

She paused, her gaze turning sharp. "I never expected your breakup to be so... brutal."

I forced an awkward smile. Retreating to the corner of the patio, I silently set up my easel.

He wasn't cold. He was just sick.

And he only looked at me because I was stubbornly annoying enough to stay...

But all that was in the past.

Today, my job was to paint Kaelen and Cecily.

The perfect, wealthy power couple.

I spent the entire morning capturing them in the garden.

Kaelen’s hand rested casually on her waist as they tended to the roses.

"It's beautiful. No wonder Kaelen hired you." Cecily nodded in satisfaction.

She handed me a glass of water with a bright smile. "You've been working all morning. Take a break and hydrate."

I didn't refuse.

I was parched, so I took a massive gulp.

Boiling, scalding water burned down my throat.

I gasped, clutching my neck, and burst into violent, agonizing coughs.

"Oh my god! I forgot that was fresh from the kettle!" Cecily jumped up.

As she did, her elbow knocked the glass over.

The scorching water splashed right onto my canvas. Hours of hard work, instantly ruined.

The searing pain in my throat triggered a relentless coughing fit.

My chest tightened. My lungs seized. I couldn't breathe.

Then, a shadow rushed over. Kaelen.

He scooped me up, carried me into the nearest bedroom, and practically shoved an inhaler into my mouth.

The black spots in my vision slowly faded.

As my breathing leveled out, I looked up.

Kaelen’s eyes were rimmed with red.

Behind him, the nightstand drawer was half-open. Inside sat a neat row of unopened asthma inhalers.

They were my favorite brand from years ago.

"Elowen." Kaelen’s voice was shaking. "Was three million dollars not enough to buy yourself decent medication?"

I pushed myself up, waving a hand as if it was no big deal.

"Of course I did. It’s three million bucks. You really think I wouldn't treat myself right?"

I forced a laugh. "It’s been ages since my last attack. It was just an accident. I know Cecily didn't mean to—"

"Shut up."

I froze. The sheer venom in his voice cut me off instantly.

"I had you investigated," Kaelen said abruptly.

He sounded numb, like a judge reading a death sentence. "You haven't painted professionally in years. You haven't sold a single piece. Seven years ago, Elowen Marek completely vanished from the art world."

"You told me you were leaving me for your art."

He pulled a cheap, generic inhaler out of his pocket—the one from my tote bag.

He took a step forward, trapping me against the headboard.

"Yet you walk around carrying the crappiest inhaler on the market."

His dark eyes locked onto mine, burning with a mix of fury and devastation.

"So tell me, Elowen. What the hell did you do with that three million dollars?"