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No Mercy for Turncoats Novel Cover

No Mercy for Turncoats

After a painful breakup during the year they intended to wed, Maisie Summers achieves immense success and uses her power to force her former partner into marriage. While the public views them as a perfect match, the reality is a cold nightmare. Maisie brings various men home to spite him, yet he remains stoic and unresponsive to her infidelity. Unknown to his unfaithful wife, he is silently tracking the limited time he has left to live in this dark modern romance.
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Chapter 3

I dreamed of the time when Maisie and I were still in love.

We had just graduated from college back then and squeezed into a tiny rental apartment. We were poor, but even our ordinary life held bits of quiet happiness.

That day, I received my first paycheck, which was just 1,500 dollars a month. The first thing I did was buy her favorite macarons and barbecue chicken wings.

I always remembered how happy she was that day. A single 30-dollar box of macarons was enough to make her happy all day.

She took my hands, her eyes curving into crescents as she beamed. "Since you're so nice today, I'll make you your favorite honey-glazed chicken wings too."

As she cooked, she kept talking about the future. She said if we worked hard for a few more years, we would have enough money to get married.

Once we were married, we would start a family right away and she would be a stay-at-home mom while I provided for us.

I held her from behind and rested my chin on her shoulder. "We'd definitely be so happy, Mae."

Back then, we really were happy without a homewrecker or any walls between us. Then, the scene suddenly shifted to Maisie and Dash hugging each other tightly.

I jolted awake, drenched in sweat. Only then did I realize it was a dream.

The bedroom door suddenly swung open. Maisie had returned, holding a plate of steaming honey-glazed chicken wings.

With a smile, she set it on the nightstand and held my hand. "I made honey-glazed chicken wings for you, Tristan. It's been a long time since I last made them, so I'm not sure if you still like them."

She spoke gently, just like the Maisie from my dream. For a moment, it almost felt like we still loved each other—until I smelled tobacco on her.

She didn't smoke, so I didn't have to guess to know that the smell came from Dash. It reminded me that we were no longer the Maisie Summers and Tristan Blaise of the past.

I shook her hand off. "What the hell are you doing, Maisie?"

Her expression turned terrifyingly icy in an instant.

"Tristan, do you have any idea how ungrateful you sound? I even fought with Dash just to see you today. I heard you talking in your sleep about how you wanted honey-glazed chicken wings, so I drove all the way to the market near our old rental just to buy the wings and recreate that old taste."

It struck me that she still remembered our past. But even if she remembered all of it, what did that matter? Some things, once broken, couldn't be mended.

I had long since stopped loving honey-glazed chicken wings, and there was no way Maisie and I could ever go back to how we were.

I dumped the entire plate of honey-glazed chicken wings into the trash can.

To piss her off, I said harsh, unpleasant things. "You should be with Dash and not waste your time on me. Otherwise, I'd think you're just here to make peace, and that disgusts me."

Clearly enraged, she clenched her fists and forced down her anger, only to pull me tightly into her arms in the next second.

"What else do you want from me, Tristan? Do you know how happy I was when I heard you call me 'Mae' in your sleep and say that you wanted honey-glazed chicken wings?"

Her voice broke as she spoke. "Do you really not love me anymore?"

The smell of tobacco made my stomach churn. How did she have the nerve to talk to me about love when she was out there fooling around with other guys?

I shoved her away hard. "I stopped loving you a long time ago. You're the one who kept clinging to me and forced me to marry you."

My words ignited her anger, and she bit down hard on my shoulder, almost as if she wanted to tear my flesh off.

It hurt, but I didn't fight back. Instead, I silently prayed that after tonight, she would finally leave me alone.

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