The Price of His Obsession

After my family went bankrupt, I accepted my ex-boyfriend’s demand. I acted like an adult film star in bed, doing everything I could to please him. Torn between shame and relief, I told myself that once the funds cleared tomorrow, Dad wouldn't have to go to prison. When it was over for the third time, applause echoed from behind the two-way mirror. "Damn, the sounds Chloe was making just now... even through the glass, it had me going crazy." My hairs stood on end. Behind me, Christian let out a low grunt as he finished inside me. "You clenched up because you were nervous. Felt pretty damn good, actually." Humiliation burned through me. He casually adjusted himself and spoke in a drawl: "The capital transfer to your dad's company will take a month." I whipped around in horror. "We agreed on a week! Why a month?!" A month would be far too late. Christian pulled up his trousers without a care in the world. "I used the liquid funds to buy Yvonne a rare, museum-grade blue sapphire. She just flew back from overseas. A girl needs a proper welcome gift, doesn't she?" He thought I would throw a fit, jealous and desperate, screaming at him like before. But this time, I was just tired. ... "You're walking out like that?" Christian arched an eyebrow, looking down at my bare body, and tilted his chin toward the glass mirror. I knew he was reminding me that people were watching from the other side. But they had already watched every single degrading, violent thing we just did. What else was left to be ashamed of? I walked numbly toward the door. Christian grabbed my wrist, his grip like iron. "Do you have zero self-respect?" I looked back at him calmly. "Did you ever give me any?" He choked on his words, speechless. We both knew the truth, didn't we? We met when we were seventeen. A terrible car wreck had left his right leg with a permanent limp, twisting his personality into something dark, possessive, and paranoid. He would deliberately do extreme, destructive things just to cause a scene, seeking proof that people actually cared about him. One night, after another violent fight with his family, he stormed out, and I found him bleeding in an alley. He was like a wounded hedgehog, lashing out and biting anyone who dared approach. I had always been slow to read people. Seeing his bruised, striking face back then, I foolishly stayed by his side. I became the only person he couldn't kick away, no matter how much he cursed or shoved me. He once muttered that he yearned for a normal, peaceful life. So I, an heiress who had never even held a broom, taught myself to cook, clean, and do laundry, desperate to give him the warmth of a simple home. Yet over the five years we dated, he broke up with me nineteen times. Every single time, it was because Yvonne returned. Even now, knowing perfectly well that if our company didn't receive an immediate cash injection, our assets would be liquidated and Dad would face federal prison, he couldn't care less. My eyes stung with a bitter ache. "How much was the sapphire?" He thought for a second and answered offhandedly, "Forty million dollars." Forty million dollars. A tight fist seemed to squeeze my heart, the pain so sharp I could barely draw breath. Forty million... That exact amount would have saved my entire family! Five years at his side wasn't worth a casual welcome trinket for Yvonne's arrival at the airport. Christian was a man of absolute authority. If he said one month, not even me leaping from the rooftop would change his mind. I stopped arguing. I turned the handle and pushed the door open. Instantly, I came face-to-face with the men who had been peeping from the observation room. They looked at me awkwardly, before one of them smirked and broke the silence: "Done already, Chloe?" A chorus of crude laughter erupted down the hall. A heavy ceramic vase suddenly flew out of the suite, shattering against the corridor wall and cutting off their laughter. Shards exploded through the air. I didn't dodge. A sharp piece sliced across my leg. Warm blood trickled down my skin, but I didn't feel a thing. Christian stared intently at the fresh cut on my leg, then cast his gaze down at his own uneven legs. After a long pause, he stepped forward, draped his coat over me in front of everyone, and slowly buttoned it up. "I said a month, and I'll give it to you. Who are you throwing a tantrum for, huh?" Fastening the top button, he patted my chest, seemingly satisfied. I looked deeply at the man I had loved so madly for five years. I used to believe that if I just listened, if I just obeyed, Christian would eventually realize my worth. They say the highest form of love is tenderness and heartache for the other person. But in his eyes, there was only a raw, twisted desire to drag me straight down to hell with him. The moment I stepped out of the estate, all strength drained from my limbs, my legs shaking uncontrollably. As tears spilled down my cheeks, muffled laughter drifted out from behind the door once more. Someone asked Christian: "The Vance family was clearly set up by someone. Thirty days from now, their assets will already be completely liquidated. Chris, are you seriously going to let them burn?" Christian's detached voice floated out: "I was the one who set the trap. Yvonne found out I'd been sleeping with Chloe all these years. She was so heartbroken she cried for hours. I had to teach Chloe a lesson to make Yvonne feel better." "Aren't you worried she won't come back to you this time?" At that question, Christian chuckled softly, dripping with arrogance: "Be serious. We've known each other for eight years and dated for five. When has Chloe Vance ever failed to crawl back to me the second I crook my finger?" "If she actually managed to fall in love with someone else, I might even respect her." I leaned against the icy stone wall outside, biting down hard on the back of my hand to stifle my screams. Our bankruptcy... the debt collectors, the liquidation... Christian orchestrated all of it. All because Yvonne shed a few tears, and he wanted to vent her frustration on me.The cuts on my legs dried and stuck to the fabric of my clothes, tearing the skin open anew whenever I moved. Remembering my mother's bloodshot, weeping eyes, and my father's hair that had turned gray overnight, I raised my hand and slapped myself across the face, again and again. "You pathetic fool... It's all because you loved him. You dragged your own family down into this abyss." I never imagined that my blind love would cost everything my parents had worked their entire lives for. The Hayes family ruled the city's financial sector with an iron fist. A single word from Christian could decide the fate of half the mid-sized corporations in the state. If he wanted to ruin us to appease Yvonne, not a single soul in the upper crust would dare lift a finger to help us. I stood by the riverbank in a daze, watching the dark, churning water below. For a split second, I wanted to jump. But I didn't dare. If I died, what would happen to Mom and Dad? "Yvonne... right, Yvonne." Her name flashed through my frantic mind. Truth be told, I knew her before Christian ever did. At a high-society charity gala years ago, she had been working as a part-time student waitress. A greasy, fifty-year-old corporate creep had backed her into a corner, trying to force a kiss on her. I happened to walk by and intervened, pulling her out of the mess. Back then, I was giving Christian the cold shoulder over an argument about my jealousy. Instead of coaxing me, he mocked my interference with a smirk: "Look at Miss Vance playing the savior. Hey, waitress, your tuition from now on is covered by me." Who could have guessed that a single moment would be the start of an endless nightmare for the three of us? I never figured out when Christian truly fell for Yvonne. He paid for her elite tutors, enrolled her in the most prestigious art academy abroad, and showered her with endless luxury. To ensure snobbish heirs overseas wouldn't look down on her, he bought out entire seasonal collections from luxury fashion houses and shipped them straight to her dorm. Whenever Yvonne came back on holiday, I never needed anyone to tell me. Christian would break up with me right before she landed. He always said, "Yvonne is pure. She won't ever be a mistress." She couldn't be branded a homewrecker, so whenever she set foot in this city, I had to be discarded. I hailed a cab and rushed to the private club hosting Yvonne's welcome-back party. At the entrance, two burly security guards blocked my path. "My apologies, Miss Vance. Mr. Hayes instructed that no one is allowed to ruin Miss Reed's evening." This club used to be my regular haunt. The patrons were all heirs and socialites from our shared circle. Now that my family was bankrupt, none of them would spare me a second glance, let alone smuggle me in. The biting wind pierced through my thin coat. The cuts on my legs tore open again, the stinging pain making my lips tremble. "Let her in." I lifted my head. Christian stood at the top of the marble steps, looking down at me. A flicker of confusion crossed his eyes before his face hardened into cold indifference. "Who are you putting on this tragic act for? Don't you know your own body?" He was right. I had always had a weak immune system. Catching a draft meant days of high fever. During the sweetest days of our relationship, he would frantically wrap me in his coat, panicking if I so much as sneezed. I kept my head down. "I want to talk to Yvonne." Christian frowned, a mocking smirk playing on his lips. "You really haven't changed at all, Chloe."He was terrified I would cause trouble for Yvonne. After all, I had a history. Back when I first discovered that Yvonne frequently called Christian in the middle of the night, whimpering that she was scared of the thunder, I lost my mind. I took a megaphone to her campus, stood beneath her dorm window, and blasted her recorded voice messages for the entire quad to hear. Just as the crowd started labeling Yvonne a homewrecker, Christian's convoy of luxury cars barreled into the courtyard. Bodyguards pushed through the whispering students. I stepped forward, trying to link my arm with his to stake my claim. "You're my boyfriend! Why are you letting some random stray flirt with you?!" Christian looked at me with pure disgust. In front of the entire student body, he swept the weeping Yvonne into his arms and carried her into his car. "Look at yourself. How are you any different from a raving lunatic on the street?!" He left me standing there, exposed to the mocking stares and whispers of the crowd. Yvonne was moved into the Hayes mansion that night. And I was locked away in a small room at his estate to 'reflect on my mistakes.' For every day Yvonne refused to leave her room because she was sad, I was kept locked inside. Not a drop of water. Not a grain of rice. Christian spent a full week coaxing her before she was willing to step outside. Then, worried that the campus rumors would hurt her feelings, he donated thirty million dollars to an elite European academy to secure her an immediate transfer. I shook my head, forcing a smile that looked worse than crying. "I just want to tell her that you and I are completely over." The blatant distrust in his eyes still sent a sharp ache through my chest. I admit, I still loved him. I knew his limp made him hyper-sensitive and intensely insecure. Around him, I never dared show the slightest hint of pity or disrespect, terrified that a wrong word or expression would shatter his fragile pride. Yet I never dreamed he could be so thoroughly ruthless to me. To set up an entire financial trap and push my family into ruin just to cheer Yvonne up. It wasn't that I didn't love him anymore. I was simply terrified of him. Once grievances boil over, they consume everything. Tears rolled down my cheeks unchecked. Christian's fingers twitched at his side. "Just talk. What are you crying for...?" He reached out, his hand hovering as if to wipe away my tears, when a delicate figure skipped out from the club lobby. I hadn't seen Yvonne since she went overseas. Tonight, she wore a bespoke haute couture gown. Her immaculate makeup and limited-edition diamond jewelry radiated wealth and status. She looked nothing like the timid, frightened waitress from years ago. She looked far more like a pampered, high-born princess than I ever did. "Why did you come out?" Christian slipped off his tailored suit jacket and tenderly wrapped it around her bare shoulders, his voice softening completely. She tilted her head, her eyes rimmed with tears, which instantly threw Christian into a panic. He bent down, murmuring soft reassurances: "What's wrong, sweetheart? Who upset my girl?" Yvonne let out a tearful giggle, playfully tapping Christian's chest before murmuring: "I heard Chloe was here. I came to see her." "You see her now. Satisfied?" He was asking Yvonne, but his dark gaze was pinned entirely on me. I guessed she must be satisfied. The heiress who had casually saved her at a gala years ago was now standing before her, clothes soaked in blood, hair plastered messily against her face, looking as pathetic as a drowned rat. How could she not be satisfied? I wanted to scream, to demand answers, but I swallowed my pride. If I angered Yvonne right now, my family wouldn't even last the week before we were utterly wiped out. I forced a pleading smile onto my lips. "Yvonne, it's been a while." She, on the other hand, acted as if we were old friends. "Chloe, you really didn't need to come down here. I already forgave you a long time ago."I stared at her blankly. Forgave me? Forgave me for using that megaphone to expose her manipulative voice messages? Or forgave me for daring to date Christian in the first place? My mind went completely blank. Christian's temper suddenly flared. "Yvonne has forgiven you, but shouldn't you have the decency to apologize?" A dagger to the heart could not have hurt more. I clenched my fists, fighting back the tears. The three words rolled on my tongue. I bit down on my lips until they bled, the metallic taste coating my mouth, before I finally choked them out: "I'm... I'm sorry..." Christian looked away from me, pulled a black titanium card from his wallet, and placed it into Yvonne's palm. "There's forty million dollars in here. You decide whether she gets it." Hope flared violently in my chest. With this money, the company was saved. My parents were saved! I looked at Yvonne with raw desperation, only to watch her fingers slowly tighten around the card. She pouted petulantly. "Chloe forced me to study abroad and kept me separated from you for three whole years, Chris. I don't want to just hand it over like that." Christian chuckled, his index finger affectionately tapping the tip of her nose. "Whatever you want." Panic ripped through me like wildfire. My family needed this money to survive. Our house and cars had already been auctioned off. We were living in a cramped, rotting two-bedroom rental, terrorized daily by aggressive debt collectors banging on the door. Mom had a failing heart. Under the constant terror, her health had deteriorated to a shadow of her former self. Dad had run across the entire city, calling in every favor from his old business network, but with Christian's shadow hanging over us, not a single person dared lend a cent. My final shred of hope was dangling right in front of me. I begged: "Yvonne, I was wrong. I'm sorry. Punish me however you want, just please, help my family." Yvonne tapped her chin thoughtfully, a playful, cruel spark lighting up her eyes. "How about this? Get down on your knees and apologize to me. Then I'll give you the card. Deal?" Her sweet, sing-song voice carried the weight of an executioner's blade. "Forty million dollars for three little words. That's a pretty sweet deal, isn't it?" Christian said nothing. He stood tall beside Yvonne, an unyielding wall supporting every cruel whim she had. "Guess you don't want it..." Yvonne sighed with mock regret, moving to slip the card back into her designer clutch. Terrified, I lost all sense of dignity. "I'll do it!" At that, a dazzling smile spread across her face. Her eyes curved into crescents, her chin raised slightly, waiting for my performance. I glanced at Christian, who remained stone-faced, and slowly bent my knees. It was just an apology on the ground, yet it felt as if my soul were being shredded into a million pieces. "Thud." My knees hit the icy concrete. I collapsed there, my fingernails digging deep into my palms until my hands shook with violent tremors. "I'm sorry..." Yvonne let out a delighted giggle, then stomped her heel lightly. "Oh, Chloe, I was just teasing! Did you really kneel down?" I didn't move. I remained on the ground before them, hollowed out. "Well..." Yvonne sighed, flicking the black titanium card onto the pavement in front of me. I reached out and picked it up, heavy tears splashing against the cold, gold-embossed surface. My family was saved. Christian... I will never dare to love you again. I staggered to my feet and whispered: "Thank you." Christian's face darkened instantly, like storm clouds rolling over an ocean. He brushed Yvonne's hand off his arm and turned back toward the club. "Chris...?" She called after him, but he didn't look back. Annoyed, Yvonne glared at me. "Still standing here? Get lost!" I clutched the card and hurried away into the night. Behind me, Yvonne stood fuming until a female classmate from her study abroad days walked out, gasping in excitement: "Yvonne! So you really are Christian Hayes's girlfriend! His family basically runs this entire state!" Her frustration vanished instantly. Yvonne lifted her chin with smug pride. "Told you, didn't I?" The girl squealed, but then hesitated, looking puzzled. "That girl just now clearly had some history with him. You really just gave her forty million dollars like that? Isn't that letting her off too easy?" Yvonne's eyes darkened, a vicious grin curling her lips. "Who said it was free? I already had someone send a video to her dad." "What video?" Yvonne chuckled softly. "Nothing much. Just a little home video of Chloe... putting on a show at Chris's penthouse today." I left the club, desperate to get home as fast as possible. The crisis was averted. I wanted to run straight to Dad, tell him the good news, and tell him he didn't have to carry this crushing weight anymore. Once all the debts were cleared, I would take Mom and Dad to a new city, far away, and start our lives over. As for Christian... we were completely, undeniably finished.The rental complex was old and dilapidated. The streetlamps on either side of the cracked pathway were dead. The dark stairwell used to terrify me, but tonight, an overwhelming sense of relief washed over me. "Dad, Mom... the sins I brought upon us can finally be washed away." A dim, yellow light flickered from the seventh-floor balcony. I saw a silhouette shifting by the railing and recognized my father. I waved frantically. "Dad! I got the funding! I have the money!" I yelled up at him, desperate to share the miracle. Dad didn't answer. He just stood at the edge of the railing, looking down at me in the dark. I paused, slightly confused. I held up the black titanium card, waving it proudly like a prize: "Dad, look! The money's here!" He moved. He swung his legs over the railing and threw himself off into the empty air. My breath caught in my throat, paralyzed with horror. Seven floors! That was the seventh floor! "DAD!" A falling human body looks like a drifting leaf on the way down, deceptively light, until the impact shatters the earth with a sickening, deafening crash. Car alarms down the street instantly wailed in frantic discord. The quiet courtyard erupted into chaos. "Someone jumped! Someone killed themselves!" Doors banged open as neighbors poured out into the night. My feet were glued to the pavement. Every drop of blood in my veins turned to ice. I threw myself forward like a madwoman, scrambling toward the broken figure lying in a pooling crimson sea. All I saw were his wide, unblinking eyes, refusing to close. "Dad! Dad!" My entire world turned a blinding, suffocating red. I couldn't understand. I had the money. The nightmare was supposed to be over. Why was he gone?! His unseeing eyes stared straight through me, filled with unbearable agony. "Dad!" I wailed, my chest tearing apart from the inside out. "Why didn't you wait for me?! I got the funds! I got the money, Dad!" I shoved the black card against his cold, limp fingers, babbling incoherently: "Look! Dad, look at me! I got the money! Our family is saved! Wake up, please!" I screamed. I begged. But my father never took another breath. My sanity splintered into pieces. Why? When hope was finally within our grasp, why did this have to happen?! "You monster! You filthy girl!" Through the screaming crowd, my mother charged toward me, her hair disheveled, looking like a phantom. Her fists rained down upon me, hitting my shoulders, my chest, using every ounce of strength left in her frail body. "Look at what you did! Look at what you've done to your father!" "Why would you do that?! We would rather die a thousand times over than let you sell yourself to save us!" Weeping hysterically, she hurled a phone against my chest. The screen was playing a video on a relentless loop. It was the footage from Christian's penthouse suite—me begging him to save my family. Then Christian's deep, mocking drawl echoed through the speaker: Sure. But you've always been so stiff and boring in bed. If you put on a show like an adult film star... maybe I'll think about it." Then came my own desperate, trembling voice: "...Okay." The video played on and on. Right beside my father's bleeding, unmoving corpse.