When she felt something cold and slick brush against her ankle, her vision blurred.
A snake bit into her calf, the sting sharp but brief.
The darkness surged in, swallowing her whole.
Her last coherent thought clung to her lips. “Quingye… the thing I regret most in this life… is loving you…”
When Alannah woke up again, the sharp scent of disinfectant filled her nose.
Her gaze was blank as she stared up at the pale ceiling.
Noticing that she was awake, Quincy finally spoke, his voice low and hoarse.
“Finally awake? How do you feel now?”
Alannah didn’t look at him. She didn’t answer either.
He frowned, displeasure flickering across his face. “I didn’t expect there’d be a venomous snake. I told them yesterday to get harmless ones instead…”
Alannah’s lips twitched, her voice rough from dehydration. “So I should thank you, then? Thank you for throwing me into that basement? For letting the snakes bite me?”
A hint of anger darkened Quincy’s eyes. It took him a while to respond, his tone forcibly softened.
“I had Marissa make you the soup you like.”
Alannah turned her head away, refusing to look at him.
“Alannah, if you don’t eat, are you planning to starve yourself and make the news?”
His tone snapped, the porcelain bowl clattering sharply onto the table.
No wonder. No wonder he was suddenly pretending to care. He wasn’t worried about her. Instead, he was worried she’d make a scene and tarnish the company’s image.
But she had no intention of playing along.
Turning back toward him, Alannah met his gaze directly. As she did, she discreetly checked that the tiny hidden camera was still functioning, then spoke the words she’d been holding back for a long time.
“Quincy. Since you like Pearl so much, why don’t we just divorce? You can be with her openly.”
“After all,” she added, “we’re only torturing each other at this point, aren’t we?”
Quincy sat on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, exuding effortless arrogance.
“Stop pretending, Alannah. You’d really want to leave me?”
He leaned forward slightly, his voice low and self-assured. “You schemed your way into marrying me, remember? I gave you everything you wanted—the resources, the connections. Everything you have comes from me. Basically, our marriage has always been transactional.”
Alannah lowered her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper. “What if I said I never used you? Would you believe me?”