After I Got Out, He Begged Me to Keep Him

Chapter 3

In the end, I still took him with me.

Because just as I was leaving, a group of fierce creditors arrived.

I watched as several tall, muscular men surrounded him. He looked like a lamb led to s*******r. A nameless fury shot up in my chest.

I had no idea where I found the strength, but I grabbed a broken table leg and charged at them.

"He is mine! Try touching him and see what happens!"

Like a true madwoman, I beat them all out.

Then, under Lucian's shockingly bright gaze, I grabbed his hand and fled the cage that had once symbolized power and wealth.

To keep my debt-ridden childhood sweetheart afloat, I had no choice but to rent a basement room in Eastgate, the roughest, grimiest part of the city.

The rent was 500 dollars a month.

The room smelled of damp mold all year round. Dark green moss grew in the corners.

The only furniture was a broken wooden bed that creaked with every movement.

After I settled Lucian in, I turned to leave.

He grabbed my hand and looked at me with pitiful eyes. "Evie, where are you going?"

"To make money. Otherwise, we will both starve." I shook him off, irritated.

"I will go with you."

"You?" I looked him up and down. "What can you possibly do with a body that weak? Just don't cause trouble for me."

He lowered his head and said nothing, looking terribly wronged.

I had once been Miss Mercer, the kind of heiress who had never needed to do anything with her own hands.

But a year ago, I had lost my mind. Even my parents had treated me like a monster and had run a public notice disowning me.

Now, with a criminal record hanging over me, even restaurants refused to hire me as a dishwasher. They said I was bad luck.

After two full days of running around, I had spent the last of the crumpled bills I had.

When I returned to the basement room, I was dizzy with hunger.

Lucian was still sitting on the broken bed. The moment he saw me, his eyes lit up.

"Evie, you are back."

Like he was presenting a treasure, he took a plastic bag out from behind him.

Inside were two plain dinner rolls, still warm.

I froze. "Where did you get the money?"

He pointed at a burlap sack in the corner. It was filled with plastic bottles he had collected.

"I went out this afternoon and picked those up. I sold them for 3 dollars and bought you dinner rolls."

There was dirt on his face, but his charming eyes were bright, as if he was waiting for me to praise him.

Something lodged in my chest. I couldn't describe what I felt.

I said nothing. I took one dinner roll and bit into it hard.

It was dry, hard, and difficult to swallow.

Yet somehow, no meal had ever felt more complicated than this one.