After Hurting Me to the Point of Being Battered, He Was Heartbroken

The next morning, Matthew and I were sitting at the table, having breakfast.

Georgia burst into the room, fuming.

She grabbed the hot milk from the table and threw it at me.

"Amelie Scott, have you no shame?!"

The scorching milk soaked through my clothes, and I flinched as the heat hit my skin.

But Matthew, sitting across from me, barely lifted an eyelid.

"Georgia, come here."

She shot me a hateful look and then walked over to Matthew.

"Matthew, did you forget how she treated you before?"

Matthew took a napkin and gently wiped the milk off her hand.

"Did you burn yourself?"

Georgia's expression didn't soften.

"What's she doing living here? Did she seduce you or something?"

Matthew chuckled, tightening his grip on her hand.

"I'm keeping her around because she's useful."

Then he glanced at me, his eyes cold.

"What are you standing there for? Go change. We have someone to meet."

When Matthew squeezed Georgia's hand, it felt like an invisible fist had wrapped around my heart, squeezing the air out of my lungs.

I turned and walked toward the dressing room like a puppet on strings.