In my past life, he had sacrificed me for this illusion, pushing me into a living hell. In this life? If he wanted his "white moonlight" so badly, he could have him. I would sit back and let him enjoy every twisted second of this unique love.
Derek's discharge day was a spectacle of humiliation.
The Finches were ruthless. Seeing their son obstinately clinging to that delinquent, they nuked the bridge—published a newspaper announcement severing ties, repossessed his luxury car and apartment, froze every credit card in his name.
"Derek, don't be afraid. Even if the whole world turns its back on you, I never will."
Chelsea dabbed at dry eyes, her gaze locked not on Derek's face, but on the Vacheron Constantin on his wrist.
Oblivious to the predatory stare, Derek wept with gratitude.
"Chelsea, I knew it! You're the only one who truly loves me. I swear, I'll get you that two million. When I make it big, you'll be the happiest woman alive."
They moved into a cramped room in the slums that very night.