Chapter 3 For Ethan
1128 Words
Natalie watched in horror as the figure in her dream slowly melted away, dissolving into the pool of blood.
"Ethan! No!"
The words she couldn't scream in her nightmare burst out in reality.
Leaning against the doorway, Ethan let out a mocking laugh.
"Mrs. Carter, you really do love me deeply. Even in your sleep, you keep calling my name—again and again. How touching."
Natalie's gaze snapped to the man standing by the door, her heartbeat still racing from the nightmare. But as she took in his familiar face, her pulse gradually steadied.
Thank God. At least she could still see this face.
She wiped the cold sweat from her forehead, got out of bed, and walked toward Ethan.
Her eyes stayed locked onto his impossibly handsome face, as if she wanted to imprint every detail into her memory, to burn it into her mind like a scanner capturing an image.
Ethan's smirk deepened, laced with even more contempt.
Her acting skills were truly impressive. They had only met a handful of times, yet every time she looked at him, her eyes were filled with affection.
A woman desperate to marry into wealth—how could she possibly be capable of real love?
It was ridiculous.
"You going out today?"
Ethan reached out, tilting her chin up with his fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze. His voice dripped with malice. "Unlike you, Mrs. Carter, I can't just play a few tricks and marry into a billion-dollar fortune. I actually have to work for a living. Wouldn't want all your dreams to come crashing down, now would we?"
No one outside called her Mrs. Carter. Only Ethan did—repeating it over and over, each time filled with mockery and disdain, solely to humiliate her.
Natalie showed no reaction to his cold sarcasm. Her expression remained blank, yet her breathtaking eyes gazed at him, filled with a gentle, lingering warmth.
For a split second, Ethan met her gaze, and his heart skipped half a beat.
Such beautiful eyes.
But they were so empty. So hollow, it was unsettling.
That moment of distraction vanished instantly. The memory of a month ago resurfaced—the way she had forced him into marriage, blackmailing him with a video so flawlessly doctored that even his team couldn't find a single flaw.
It made him sick.
Ethan's voice was laced with amusement. "I've got a gathering with some friends tonight. I assume Mrs. Carter will be picking me up?"
Natalie knew his so-called "gathering" was just an excuse. But looking at his face, she couldn't bring herself to say no.
She nodded obediently. "I'll be there. Try not to drink too much."
She didn't like it when this face reeked of alcohol and smoke. It made him... tainted.
Ethan shoved her away. "God, you really are boring."
With that, he turned and walked out of the bedroom.
Natalie felt nothing. She numbly went to wash up.
It was scorching outside, but the cold that had seeped into her bones refused to leave.
She frowned slightly, uncomfortable, then opened her closet. She pulled on thick black pants and a fitted blue long-sleeved blouse.
The collar was high. She tucked half her face into it. Only then did she feel a little warmer.
As she stepped out of the room, the household staff ignored her as if she were invisible.
On their wedding night, Ethan had told her plainly—he would make sure she was left with nothing.
And he wasn't lying.
Here, she was only allowed to stay. She had no right to touch anything else—not the food in the fridge, not the ingredients in the kitchen, not even the water from the dispenser.
She had just returned last night and hadn't had time to buy groceries. Naturally, that meant no breakfast this morning.
But she didn't care.
Carrying her supplies, she left for her art class.
*****
A housekeeper watched her leave, then turned to another staff member, unable to hold back her curiosity.
"Do you think there's something wrong with her? It's almost 90 degrees out, and she's dressed like it's winter. Isn't she afraid of heatstroke? And she never talks to us. She's been here since yesterday, and she hasn't said a word. Just walks around like some emotionless puppet. Gives me the creeps."
The older housekeeper, Elaine, sighed as she watched Natalie's figure disappear down the road. "That girl... she has a story."
The younger housekeeper rolled her eyes. "Please. A woman who drugged a man just to climb into his bed—what kind of 'story' could she possibly have? She's just playing mysterious."
*****
By the time Natalie arrived at the studio, most of the students hadn't shown up yet. She quietly set up her sketch pad, closed her eyes, and started drawing from memory.
She had stared at Ethan's face for so long this morning that she memorized every single detail.
Yet when she closed her eyes, all she could see was the face from her nightmare—bloodied, mutilated, eyes bulging, teeth broken, frozen in agony.
Her eyes snapped open, and she gasped for breath. Her hands shook so badly that her pencil slipped from her grip, rolling onto the floor.
Other students began trickling in.
Natalie forced herself to stay put.
She bent down, picked up the pencil, then reached into her pocket for her medication. Quickly, she shook out two pills and threw them into her mouth.
No water.
She let her teeth crush the bitter tablets, letting the taste spread through her mouth.
She pressed a hand to her dry, aching eyes.
She used to hate bitter things. Every time she took medicine, he would coax her for ages. And the moment she swallowed, he'd always pop a piece of candy into her mouth.
But now, the thing she used to dread... she could swallow without flinching.
She didn't dare close her eyes again.
Instead, she pulled out a screenshot of a news article from a year ago—the photo of his face.
Slowly, she began sketching, imagining his features taking shape beneath her pencil.
Two hours passed.
Natalie stared at the faint lines on the paper, the beginning of a face.
It wasn't perfect, but she was satisfied.
Considering she had only been drawing for a month, it was progress.
She was talented. A fast learner.
And one day, if she kept at it, she knew she'd be able to bring that face back to life on paper.
Gathering her work, she packed up her supplies, ready to head home.
Ethan would be expecting her soon.
She needed to get ready.
What she didn't realize was that she had underestimated just how much Ethan despised her.
- Writer
