The One She Loved to Hate

The wine bottle slipped from Hailey's hand and shattered on the floor.

She froze, trembling, one jagged shard still clenched and pointing straight at Robert.

Then—some guy stormed in.

Robert shoved her hard.

"What are you, PR or a hook-up? Quit faking and stop grabbing me!"

Her arm smacked into the cabinet edge, pain shooting through her. The glass dropped from her hand.

Before she could catch her breath, the guy from the doorway was already coming at her.

She looked up, shocked. "Ethan—"

Smack!

Her head snapped sideways.

Ethan stood over her, eyes blazing.

"My mom was right. You're trash. You'll sleep with any guy who gives you a second look. Is that it, Hailey? Flash a little cash and you're ready to go?"

Hailey's nails dug into her palm until it bled. She just stared at Ethan, stunned.

She thought he'd come to save her.

Ethan used to be gentle—more like a big brother than anything else. That's why she said yes to his proposal in the first place.

But now?

People believed whatever fit their story.

No one had her back. No one believed her.

Her throat burned like it was packed with needles.

She swallowed hard. Even the taste of blood couldn't distract her.

Robert scoffed under his breath. "So this is who you really are? And here I thought you were just playing coy."

He glanced at Ethan. No reaction.

That was all the permission he needed.

His voice turned nastier by the second. "Should've figured. Your boss usually brings a whole crew. Sends just you? You must've been desperate to get laid."

Ethan's face twisted with rage. Desperate to save face, he jumped in. "Please. She ditched me on our wedding day for some other guy.

"They played her moans on the reception screens—sounded like a total slut.

"Always acting innocent. Who knows how many guys have already used her? Makes you wonder what kind of trash raised her!"

Smack!

Ethan staggered back, hand flying to his cheek. Hailey stood still, her hand tingling from the hit.

"Apologize!" she snapped.

His face darkened. "Apologize? Keep dreaming."

Then—he spat in her face.

Before she could wipe it off, he grabbed her arm and dragged her out, yelling like a lunatic.

"Check this out! Filthy little call girl—look at her face!"

He shoved his phone in her face, holding her down as he took photo after photo.

The fancy restaurant froze. Everyone stared. No one stepped in.

Outside the VIP room, Hailey saw him—Nolan. Jordyn curled up beside him.

He looked like a king, cold and untouchable.

And he watched it all—watched her get torn apart, piece by piece.

***

Back home, the lights were off.

The second she stepped in, Hailey saw him—Nolan, sitting on the couch, face unreadable.

Her clothes were wrinkled, makeup smeared. It was obvious she'd been crying.

The sight yanked up memories he didn't ask for.

Hailey had always been the stubborn one. Jordyn messed up, but Hailey took the fall.

Even when she got hit, she never cracked.

At night, Hailey used to sneak into his room, slip under the blanket, and curl up in his arms like it was the only place left.

Nolan's jaw tightened. Fists clenched.

Those memories should've died with Donovan.

He stood and crossed the room.

She looked up, hollow.

"Nolan... is this enough?"

"What?"

"All of it. Does it pay back what my dad did to you? If not, just give me a deadline..."

No answer.

He grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

The moonlight cut across his face, cold and sharp.

"Don't even think about running, Hailey. Not in this lifetime."