Love is Like Wildfire, It Never Stops

The taunts and insults from everyone at the party were completely unfiltered, every foul word imaginable was thrown my way.

I did my best to block out their voices.

Jim ordered me to pour him a drink, and I obediently did as he asked.

He told me to sing a song to entertain the crowd, and I went up on stage.

He then made me down several shots of whiskey, and even though it made me sick, I forced myself to drink.

Then, some of our old college classmates started jeering, saying they’d always noticed I had a nice figure, but I often wore loose, casual clothes, so they’d never gotten a good look at me.

They smirked and laughed. “Jim, any chance you could let us catch a glimpse of that tiny waist tonight?”

My grip tightened around the glass in my hand.

I’d tolerated their filthy words up until now, but to not even have control over my own body?

I looked over at Jim, who was lounging lazily on the leather sofa, one leg crossed over the other. His long fingers held a cigarette, the smoke curling around his face, making his features appear blurred.

I could barely make out his cold eyes as they glanced at me, giving me a command: “What are you waiting for? Take it off.”

He sat there like a god, looking down on everyone with arrogance, while I was nothing but an insignificant mortal.

I set my glass down, the alcohol burning in my stomach, and forced myself to speak. “I’m afraid I can’t comply.”

A faint, barely noticeable anger flashed in Jim’s eyes, irritated by my defiance.

He flicked the ash off his cigarette and spoke in an icy tone: “You’re nothing more than my pet now. When I tell you to do something, you do it. Understand?”

“I think you’re mistaken, Mr. Marshall. The 3 million you paid was to make me Emma’s replacement,” I replied, standing up straight, refusing to bow to him. “Since when does being a replacement mean stripping in front of a crowd?”

Jim paused.

There was a collective gasp around us.

“There she goes, acting all high and mighty again. You took the money – why the act?”

“God, I hate women who pretend to be virtuous but still take what they’re offered!”

“Seriously, does she think she’s the tragic, beautiful heroine of some movie or something?”