For his first love, my fiance gave me to his rival

Ashley was traded for his childhood sweetheart.

“Chloe isn’t as tough as you. You won't die in just a week!” Mark sneered.

Everyone knew Damien was a sadist who enjoyed inflicting pain.

Mark was right, I didn't die.

But my memory stopped at eighteen.

At eighteen, I never loved him.

…

The sun was blinding as I stepped out of Damien’s mansion. A black Bentley pulled up, and the driver got out.

"Ms. Smith, Mr. Reed sent me to take you to Ms. Bell’s birthday party. Get in."

I froze, my mind struggling to process his words.

"Ms. Smith, hurry up. Don't make Mr. Reed angry again." The driver’s impatience was clear, his eyes holding a hint of contempt.

How ironic. A week ago, Mark, my fiancé, handed me over to his nemesis, Damien, to save Chloe. Now, a week later, still for Chloe, he tossed me to the driver, disregarding my ordeal.

I forced a smile, my voice raspy. "I won't be attending the party. Wish them a happy life together."

I was exhausted. Every minute of the past seven days had been lived in sheer terror, afraid that if I closed my eyes, I wouldn’t wake up.

Back home, I collapsed on the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

When I opened my eyes, Mark's furious face loomed over me.

"Why didn't you come to Chloe’s birthday yesterday? Do you know how long she cried because of you?!"

"And what did you mean by those words? I've told you countless times, Chloe and I are just friends. Don't project your dirty thoughts onto her!"

I stared at him, almost unable to recognize him. I thought he might show some remorse, or at least pretend to care. But his first reaction was to blame me for Chloe’s distress.

The aches from my unseen wounds intensified, a gnawing reminder of how foolish my love had been.

"Mark," I said quietly, "Yesterday was my birthday too."

Mark stiffened, a flicker of panic crossing his face.

In the beginning, he always celebrated my birthday at midnight. Even when work kept him busy, he would personally deliver my gift, always a bouquet of ninety-nine red roses. He said he wanted to be with me forever.

Things change.

His panic lasted only a second, replaced by a cold mask.

"I'll get you your birthday gift later. Now, come with me and apologize to Chloe. You shouldn't have missed her party." He grabbed my arm and pulled me off the bed.

A sharp pain shot through me. I instinctively wrenched my arm free, my forehead breaking out in a cold sweat.

Mark's eyes darkened with irritation. "Ashley, how long are you going to keep this up? When did you become so unreasonable?"

I found him utterly ridiculous, and I laughed. "I learned a lot at Damien’s place these past few days."

Mark froze, his expression hardening. "It's over now. Why bring it up again? Besides, you're fine, aren't you?"

Yes, I was alive. But did he really not know what kind of place Damien’s mansion was? His nemesis was known for his twisted pleasure in tormenting women. Even his ringtone was a woman's scream. Damien had a phobia of physical contact, considering flesh impure. So he’d d...