Jessica opened the door and stepped out.

Timothy was on the phone. The moment he saw her, he ended the call without hesitation.

"Changed your mind?" he asked.

"I'll agree to stay here for a week," Jessica replied, her voice steady. "But I want my bag back."

He'd told her that as long as she stayed with him for this one week, she could do whatever she wanted. Only when she left this island would she have a real

chance to get away.

Timothy said nothing.

She had to press on. "You can keep my ID and passport if you're that paranoid. But I need my bag. Give it back."

Timothy didn't answer. Instead, he walked to the dressing room and came out carrying a brand-new designer bag.

"If you want to carry a bag, I bought you a new one."

Jessica stared at the bag in his hand, its price tag probably enough to buy a small house, her brow furrowing in frustration.

She reached out and took it.

That seemed to please Timothy, a faint smile touching his lips.

In the next instant, she hurled the bag at his chest, her anger barely contained.

"I want my bag. Can't you understand? If you expect me to spend this week with you without losing my mind, then do as I say!"

She was on the verge of breaking down.

How could she have fallen in love with a man like this?

Learning that he'd almost married Sheila, that Sheila was the one he truly loved- those revelations had cut her deeply, but even then, she'd never lost control like this.

For seven years, she'd willingly trapped herself in this love, giving him her whole life.

But now, being manipulated like this, she was coming apart at the seams.

She couldn't calm herself. Despair burned in her eyes as she glared at him. "Do you realize I could die?"

Tears welled up, stinging her eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall.

Her emotions were rawer than ever, and Timothy felt as if an invisible rope was tightening around his heart.

understand what she meant by

didn't bring your bag. How about

Jessica felt hollow, defeated.

so tall, his air of refinement

understood a single word

bag. She

was something she needed-something that could save her

head, slowly backing away from him,

when pain reached its limit,

limit, all she wanted was

state sent Timothy into a

forward, grabbing her shoulders, pulling her into his

"Jessy, don't scare me."

stroked her back, desperate to

really want your bag, I'll send someone

How laughable.

someone else than let her leave,

Jessica shoved him away.

want

"Timothy."

with

you want to go,

want, I'll

won't fight. I won't

empty now, stripped

Seven years, or

know yet-why

was running out

a death sentence-only six

If she

heat she could be

Lovelet

the new her would have no place for in

She agreed.

hadn't even taken a night for her to

felt no joy, not even

the threads of his veins were

cut into flesh.

he forced himself to remain calm, pushing down the fear clawing at

she stayed, that was

decided to go

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