Chapter 1

My personal videos were deliberately leaked and blasted all over the headlines.

Overnight, I became public property.

To protect his reputation, my husband told me to suck it up and sign an NDA.

Every word out of his mouth pushed me lower, like my dignity was just another bargaining chip.

He thought money, apologies, and his clout could wipe the slate clean.

He also thought that because I loved him, I’d stay—

just like I’d put up with the ninety-eight humiliations before.

What he never noticed was this:

he only ever got ninety-nine chances.

When the last chance was used up, the debt for saving my life was finally paid in full.

And this time, I didn’t forgive.

During a party game, his assistant lost three rounds straight and got dared to lick whipped cream off some playboy’s thigh.

She smashed a bottle and held the shards to her throat, swearing, "Ethan, I’d rather die than let someone humiliate me like this!"

My usually ice-cold husband panicked and begged me to take the fall for his assistant.

"It’s just licking some cream. I promise I’ll make it up to you later."

Everyone was waiting for me to make a fool of myself, but I just agreed, cool as a cucumber.

He had no idea this was the 97th time he’d cut me deep.

And I was done being his caged bird. I was just biding my time, waiting to pay off that life debt, so we could be done for good.

"Wow, look at that, the supermodel’s actually gonna lick it? Ethan sure knows how to keep his women in line!"

"What if she backs out? They’re not really gonna make Amber do it, are they? She’s Ethan’s one that got away!"

The mocking laughter was a roar in my ears, and the humiliation burned.

In the middle of all this disgusting posturing, Ethan knelt in front of Amber, carefully putting a band-aid on her neck. Then he turned those cold eyes on me:

"Chloe, don’t try anything. Amber’s waiting for you to finish so we can get back to the game."

Amber, Amber… It was always Amber. He never once asked if I was okay with it.

He’d completely forgotten I was his wife.

He’d also forgotten that just a few days ago, I’d miscarried because of her, and I was barely holding it together now.

Seeing me hesitate, someone shoved me from behind:

"What’re you standing around for? Get licking! Don’t tell me you’re chickening out now?"

I stumbled but caught myself. When I looked at Ethan again, his eyes were glued to Amber.

"96 times. That’s ninety-six," I counted in my head as I walked stiffly toward the guy with cream on his thigh, the well-known player in our circle.

Just as I bent down, the playboy grabbed my chin.

He looked at Amber and said, "Miss Amber, this isn’t right. She lost to me three times. One lick isn’t enough."

"How about we play ‘egg roulette’? You convince her to do it, and I’ll call it even."

Egg roulette? What the hell?!

A cold dread shot through me, and I instantly looked at Ethan.

But in the next second, Amber was already clinging to his arm, pouting:

"Ethan, it’s just a silly dare. Can’t you get your wife to play along just this once?"

Seeing Amber’s tiny frame trembling, Ethan’s heart just melted. He stared me down:

"Chloe, you were willing to lick the cream. Taking on one more little dare for Amber shouldn’t be a problem, right?"

"Yay! Thanks, Ethan!" Amber bounced up, her face pure smug satisfaction.

Watching Ethan pat her head with that fond look, I almost laughed right then. My dignity was dirt under their feet, and I was just a toy for their amusement.

Ethan, how could you be so cold? How could you still want me to do some degrading performance art for her sake?

Oh, right. I almost forgot. Amber was his untouchable white moon.

He’d chased her for years and struck out, then their families got in the way. Amber left the country overnight.

Now that he finally had her back, of course he’d spoil her rotten.

How could I ever compete?

Pushing down the bitter taste in my mouth, I said flatly:

"Does that count as a forgiveness voucher?"

Forgiveness voucher? The crowd laughed at the weird ask, but Ethan let go of Amber and suddenly looked straight at me.

He knew what I meant.

After a beat, he nodded:

"It counts."

I smiled, a bitter twist of my lips.

"Fine. I’ll do it."

Eight years ago, when I was just starting out as a model, I caught the eye of a big shot and got trapped on an island.

Along with other girls, I became a party favor for men at their business deals.

I got lucky. Ethan was the first man I met, and it was love at first sight for him.

For me, he took over those men’s operations, sent them away, and saved my life.

Later, I found out it was because I looked so much like Amber.

The night he saved me, I asked how I could ever repay him.

His eyes were sincere: "Then marry me."

I pinched him: "I’m serious."

His breath hitched as he pulled me close and said:

"Then… give me 99 forgiveness vouchers."

"Forgiveness vouchers?" I clung to him, curious.

That’s when he smiled:

"Silly, if – and I’m just saying if – if I ever hurt you 99 times, I’ll use these vouchers to get you to forgive me 99 times. Once they’re gone, we’re even."

For the next five years, he poured everything into making me a top model and treated me like a princess.

Until two months ago, when Amber came back. Everything changed.

Now it was the 97th time. Just two more, and my debt would be clear. We’d be nothing to each other.

Seeing Ethan agree, the playboy led me to a back room, dim and draped in silk.

The table was covered in hard-boiled eggs, and on the floor lay two or three women, clothes torn, a foul smell rising from them.

Ice flooded my veins as I realized what "egg roulette" meant – they were going inside me.

Ethan, who’d followed us in, narrowed his eyes and turned to Amber:

"Wasn’t this about eating eggs? What’s going on?"

But Amber ignored him and pushed me forward.

"Mr. Seven, Miss Chloe used to be a dancer. I’m sure her… flexibility will impress you."

"Don’t you want to see for yourself? See how far she can go?"

As Amber finished, I was trembling. I looked to Ethan for help.

I was still his wife. He’d loved me once. Even after all he’d put me through for Amber, he wouldn’t hand me over to some freak, right?

But to my shock, Ethan walked to the bar, poured a drink, and shoved it into my hand.

"Why don’t you have a drink with Mr. Seven first? Break the ice."

Break the ice? He wanted me to entertain them?

He… actually agreed?

Dazed, I saw Amber flash me a vicious grin.

"Sis! You deaf? Ethan’s talking to you!"

While I was staring at Amber, lost, she suddenly kicked me behind the knee.

I lost my balance instantly, and the drink in my hand flew into the playboy’s face.

Then I fell onto broken glass, slicing my arm open in several places.

My eyes met the twisted, pale face of the woman on the floor.

Amber’s shriek filled my ears:

"Sis, if you didn’t want to drink, you could’ve just said so. No need to pull a stunt and piss off Mr. Seven. Is this how you act as Ethan’s wife? Trying to make him lose face?"

The playboy’s face froze, then understanding dawned and he stared at me, wide-eyed:

"You… you’re Ethan’s famous wife?"

I said nothing, just sat on the floor, my body and heart aching so bad I could barely breathe.

The playboy reached for my arm, but Ethan instantly grabbed his wrist.

Ethan glanced at my bloody face, his eyes darkening. He gritted his teeth at the playboy:

"Get out."

The playboy backed off, grumbling as he left.

"Ethan! You’re insane! If I’d known she was your crazy wife, I wouldn’t have touched her with a ten-foot pole!"

As he vanished, I got up to leave, but a large hand clamped onto my arm again.

"Chloe, aren’t you happy you’re off the hook? Didn’t those two years on the island teach you how to act? You just had to have one drink, and this would’ve been over. Why the drama? You knew when I told you to drink, I was trying to end this, right? Are you really that clueless?"

Looking at a furious Ethan, I met his gaze, my own eyes red.

This time, I didn’t hold back.

"Ethan! I’m your wife. If you’d just said who I was, this would’ve ended the same way."

My meaning was clear. It was him. He wanted to play along to save Amber’s pride, so he never said a word.

Caught off guard, Ethan actually looked guilty.

Amber, seeing this, tried to jump in.

But Ethan frowned and cut her off:

"Enough! Just shut up and wait for me in the car."

After her footsteps faded, he sighed:

"Look, I’m sorry, but I need to say this. I really didn’t know what ‘egg roulette’ meant. If I’d known, I never would’ve agreed."

"As for Amber… try to understand. She just got back and saw that I was marr—"

Ethan stopped short, but I could guess the rest.

He was going to say Amber was upset finding out he was married, so she took it out on me, and he wanted me to let it go.

Our eyes met, and Ethan seemed to read the mockery in mine. He sighed again.

"Fine. You’re hurt. I’ll have the driver take you to the ER. Amber’s not in a good place, I need to check on her. We’ll talk when I get back."

Without waiting for a reply, he added: "Even though you didn’t finish, I’ll let this count as a forgiveness voucher."

With that, he turned and left. Watching him walk away, I touched my still-bleeding forehead and laughed.

But I didn’t care anymore.

Just two more times. Once my debt was paid, I was out.

From now on, I wasn’t putting up with his crap.