Chapter 7

Julian's POV

In one of Manhattan's most exclusive private clubs, I was drinking with a group of friends. Chloe nestled beside me, smiling as she poured me a drink.

"Julian, congratulations! You finally dumped that leech and got your freedom back!" one of Julian's cronies shouted, raising his glass.

"Exactly! Women like her, who'll do anything for money, should've been kicked out ages ago!"

"Chloe, you're so much better, kind and beautiful!"

Everyone chimed in, their words full of contempt for Audrey and flattery for Chloe.

I swirled the red wine in my glass, remaining silent. Yet, Audrey's resolute back as she walked away, and her words, "I find them disgusting," flashed uncontrollably in my mind. I tilted my head back and downed the wine in one gulp.

"Julian, what's wrong? You don't seem happy?" Chloe's keen senses picked up on my mood, and she asked with concern.

"Nothing." I set down the glass.

I didn't know what was wrong with me. Audrey was finally out of my life; I should be celebrating. But why did I feel this hollow ache in my chest, a suffocating sense of panic? I even felt a hint of regret. Regret that I hadn't chased after her.

No. How could I regret it? I wished Audrey would disappear completely! It must be the alcohol.

Just then, my phone rang wildly. It was an unfamiliar number. I intended to ignore it, but the persistent ring wouldn't stop. Finally, I swiped to answer.

"Who is this?"

"Julian." A cold, unfamiliar male voice came from the other end. "It's Daniel Harrison, Audrey's college classmate."

Audrey's classmate? The man from the photo? I scoffed. "What? Not enough money, so you've come to extort me? Let me tell you, you won't get a single dime!"

This had to be a new scheme Audrey and that man cooked up together.

A few seconds of silence on the other end. Then, Daniel's voice came through, dripping with ice.

"Julian, are you satisfied now?"

"She's dying."

She's dying.

Those two words exploded in my ears. It was utterly preposterous.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I roared.

Another new trick. What wouldn't Audrey do for money, to stay by my side? Feigning illness, playing the victim, and now even claiming she was dying. It was truly laughable.

"Whether I'm talking nonsense or not, you can come and see for yourself at City Central Hospital." Daniel's voice was devoid of warmth. "Late-stage stomach cancer. An acute gastric perforation caused massive internal bleeding. She's in surgery now."

"Julian, if anything happens to her, I swear I won't let you get away with it."

Late-stage stomach cancer? My mind went blank with a loud buzz. My hand, clutching the phone, tightened uncontrollably.

Impossible.

Absolutely impossible. Audrey had always been perfectly healthy. How could she have stomach cancer?

This must be a new scam she and that bastard were trying to pull. Yes, it had to be.

"Quite the performance." I forced myself to calm down. "Tell Audrey this pathetic stunt won't work on me. You think I'll come rushing to her side? Dream on."

With that, I hung up.

"Julian, who was that on the phone?" Chloe leaned closer, asking cautiously.

"Some con artist." I tossed my phone onto the table, picked up my glass, and took another large gulp. The burning liquor didn't quell the growing irritation and panic in my heart.

Daniel's cold voice. The words late-stage stomach cancer. They echoed like a curse in my mind.

I thought of Audrey's perpetually pale face. I remembered the numerous times Audrey had clutched her stomach, groaning in pain, cold sweat on her forehead. I recalled the piercing red I'd accidentally seen when Audrey was leaning against a wall, coughing...

No.

It couldn't be.

Audrey was just faking it. She was just trying to win my sympathy.

But my heart, for the first time, began to pound uncontrollably.

"Julian, what's wrong? You look awful." Chloe's voice pulled me back from my chaotic thoughts.

Chloe's face, so like Audrey's yet more delicate and alluring, sharpened my irritation.

This face... it's so annoying.

"I'm not feeling well. I'm going home." I stood up, grabbed my jacket, and left the club without a backward glance.

But I drove to the hospital.

I had to see for myself if that woman was truly dying.