In his mind, ten thousand a day, seven days—seventy thousand. Compared to a house worth tens of millions? A fucking bargain.
He discreetly squeezed Carmilla’s hand, thinking I wouldn’t notice.
Then he turned to me, his voice softening.
“I know you mind that she’s my ex.”
“But that’s all in the past.”
“Mariah, if this makes you feel better, ten thousand it is.”
“I’ll pay. Okay?”
I didn’t respond. I simply held out my phone.
“Transfer it.”
His jaw tightened, but he wired the money anyway.
The moment the payment notification chimed, I turned and walked upstairs.
The house felt filthy to me now.
Tomorrow, I’d move out.
And soon enough, it would be sold.
That night, I woke up out of habit to use the bathroom.
The space beside me was empty.
I hadn’t wanted to share a bed with him in the first place. He insisted, saying the guest room was for Carmilla, so he had to stay with me.
When he tried to touch me earlier, I shut him down.
As I passed Carmilla’s door, I stopped.
They weren’t even trying to be quiet.
Her laughter drifted out, smug and teasing.
“Being with a big star… feels different, doesn’t it?”
Viggo’s reply was low, casual.
“Of course.”
“She’s different.”