In a trance, Melissa fixed her gaze on the ring before delicately sliding it onto her ring finger.
It fit flawlessly.
Amid her elation and hopeful sentiments, Marcus emerged from the bathroom, catching sight of her putting on the ring.
Briefly taken aback, Marcus recalled the forgotten engagement ring he had stashed here after the breakup.
The casual placement had backfired, caught unawares by Melissaâs discovery.
A shadow crossed Marcusâ eyes.
Advancing to the window-side sofa, Marcus seated himself.
Retrieving a cigarette, he leisurely lit it and indulged in a slow drag.
Fixing his gaze on her, a hint of mockery played in Marcusâ eyes.
Overcome with embarrassment, Melissa swiftly removed the ring, stuttering, âI⦠I just wanted to see how it looks.
â
Marcus displayed a lack of concern.
Indifferently, he remarked, âItâs not overly costly.
If you like it, keep it.
If not, and you prefer cash over jewelry, I can write you a check.
â
Accompanied by a waft of smoke, he proposed, âHow about two million dollars per encounter? Iâll be departing overseas in three days.
If youâre inclined to earn some extra cash, show up here at eight every night.
There is no need to bother with cooking.
After the intimacy, Iâll arrange for a driver to take you back.
â
The delivery remained nonchalant.
Melissa paled, beads of cold sweat forming on her body.
The realization dawned on her slowly.
Tonight was a transactional affair.
He engaged with her not out of affection, not because he had forgiven her, but for his physical needs.
He sought her out because he refused to settle for less.
For each encounter, he would compensate her with two million dollars.
She was undeniably costly.
In monetary terms, her body commanded a hefty price.
However, Melissa was aware that, in Marcusâ eyes, she held no value.
She could be disposed of with money, deemed even more expendable than the woman in the car that night.
He didnât touch the other woman probably out of affection; he touched Melissa because she was deemed worthless.
He had no intention of taking responsibility for Melissa; all he needed to do was pay her to have s@x with him.
Melissaâs Lips quivered as she uttered, âI donât want your money.
â
He jeered.
âFancy some jewelry instead?â
Marcus chuckled and continued, âMelissa, youâre aware of its value.
This trinket alone is worth around 20 million dollars.
A truly valuable possession.
Keep it.
Stay with me for the next three days.
â
Abruptly, Melissa burst out, âI told you, I donât want your money.
â
He stared at her.
Disregarding her partially dressed state, she attempted to elucidate to Marcus, âI left you in Warsew because of Ryanâsâ¦â
Marcus interjected, sneering, âI have no interest in hearing your love story with him.
I should have realized youâre just like him.
Willing to sell everything for money.
By the way, youâve witnessed his repulsiveness for money, havenât you? What sets you apart from him now?â
Melissaâs complexion was drained of color.
The smirk faded from Marcusâ face.
âIf money or jewelry isnât your preference, do you aspire to be Mrs.
Fowler?â
He rose and approached her, delicately pinching her chin.
Whispers brushed her ear.
âJust take a look at yourself.
Youâre repulsive.
Do you truly believe you merit the title of my wife?â
Melissaâs complexion paled further.
A sudden reluctance to explain gripped her, sensing Marcusâ profound disgust and disdain.
What purpose would explanations serve?
In Marcusâ perception, Melissa amounted to nothing more than a swindler bartering her body and emotions for money.
In his eyes, she paralleled Ryan.