The Cost 2

Chapter 2 

288 Vouchers 

A rough, ugly ring sat on the stage. 

The paddles below were slowly set down. No one wanted to bid on something so ugly, especially when it looked worthless. 

Peter squinted at it for a while before remembering. 

“Isn’t that the ring you gave me? The one I threw away? You actually went back and picked it up? Pathetic.” 

That ring was a gift from my parents for our wedding. My mother handpicked the stone and my father carved it. 

They said it was a rare natural gem that had weathered over a thousand years and was worth billions. It was hard as steel, making it sharp enough to cut through bone. 

They gave it to me so that I could protect myself and I’d always remember that they would protect me no matter what. 

But back when Peter was trapped in the avalanche, I slipped the ring on his finger, begging the heavens to take all my luck and give it to him instead. I just wanted him to survive. 

He lived. But in the struggle to save him, I lost my grip and fell. The gem sliced open my chest, and the ring was buried in the snow. 

He sneered. “You didn’t know, huh? I scraped it against your chest on purpose so I’d have an excuse to toss it. That thing was ugly as hell–and it came from you. Why the hell would I want it?” 

My eyes stung, but inside, I was numb. 

“I said, I’ll make the highest bid for it.” 

A few of the rich heirs threw in half–hearted bids, and it landed at 500,000 dollars. That was all the money I had left. 

One of the women looked like she was about to add another bid, but Peter stopped her on instinct. 

He stared at me for a long moment. I was messy, worn down, and clinging to that ring. Then, he scoffed. “You’re real- ly clinging to the trash I threw away? You really are my loyal mutt. Fine. Take it. This 500,000 dollars is my gift to you. Remember it well. You’re from the Durand family, so remember how your family once humiliated mine and re- member how I never loved you. Remember how you still chased after me like a shameless dog.” 

Having lost interest, he left with his group of women. 

I held the stone ring my parents gave me, the one I thought I had lost forever. I smiled. 

They were gone, but the ring was back. Maybe that meant they were still watching over and protecting me. 

Too bad, I only had three days left to live. 

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08:15 

Chapter 2 

As I smiled, my chest seized up. My vision went dark, and I collapsed. 

*** 

#t 

288 iVouchers 

The doctor told me to stay in the hospital. He said the shards lodged in my heart wouldn’t shift as long as I stayed still. Maybe I could live a few days longer. 

I waved him off and dragged myself back to Peter’s house. 

What was the point of living a few more days if it just meant a few more days of being tortured by him? I might as well end it sooner and be with my parents and my sister. 

When I got home, the dining table was full and it was loud with chatter–but there was no seat for me. 

Peter turned his head. “So, you do know how to come home, huh? Look at the time! Sarah cried from hunger because you didn’t cook tonight! You’re not allowed to eat for the next few days.” 

I didn’t look back and just walked past the dining room. “Whatever.” 

Frowning, he stormed over and grabbed my wrist before slamming me into the wall. 

My heart seized as a sharp, unbearable pain shot through my chest and gut. I nearly threw up. 

He opened his mouth to yell but stopped when he saw the crisscrossing scars on my wrist. 

Those were scars from when the pain in my heart got so bad, I resorted to cutting myself just to stay conscious. 

“You’re cutting yourself now?” Peter stepped closer, eyes full of hate. “What’s the matter? I held back for three years, and you can’t even survive a few days of this? Listen to me. Your family is broke, and I bought your life with my money. You don’t get to die without my permission! Do you want to die? Dream on. I’m going to make you wish you had!” 

I stared at the man I had loved for almost a decade–the one who filled my youth and occupied 80% of my life. The longer I looked at him, the more like a stranger he seemed. 

Again, I said flatly, “Whatever.” 

Enraged, Peter yanked off my coat and threw me down on the couch in front of everyone. 

Logically, I should’ve felt humiliated–or maybe happy. It was my first time, and he was the man I loved. Or perhaps I should’ve met those women’s eyes with defiance. 

But the pain in my heart was too much. I couldn’t feel a thing and passed out. 

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