Chapter 4 I'll Choose For Myself

Claire's lips curved in the faintest smile. "Melinda, it's been a while."

"Miss Barrett? What a surprise," Melinda replied, her own smile sharp. How long had Claire been standing there?

Her eyes raked over Claire. Pale, fragile, like someone who'd barely survived a serious illness.

The expensive white dress she wore seemed to swallow her up, draping loosely over a body too thin to fill it.

She had no curves to speak of, yet she carried that delicate, breakable aura.

Two years ago, Melinda hadn't noticed it. Now she realized Claire had always been that type-soft, pitiful, the kind of woman who could summon tears to her eyes in a heartbeat.

Melinda took a step closer, and Claire instinctively backed away. "Melinda, please don't hurt me."

Melinda gave a low, amused laugh. "And when have I ever done that?"

Claire hesitated, her brows knitting. "That's exactly what I told Declan. But he wouldn't believe me. I never thought he would lash out at your family like that. I was so worried for you. Then, I overheard that you were planning to become a surrogate. I begged Declan to talk sense into you. How did it go? Did you two make peace last night?"

Claire's voice stayed soft, but the glint in her eyes carried a smug, deliberate sting.

Melinda's chest tightened. Last night flashed in her mind. The city was so big, yet her client happened to be Declan. He must have found her situation filthy and repulsive. Now, it turned out Claire was behind this whole thing.

"So this is what you wanted." Melinda gripped her wrist, her eyes cold and piercing. "You planned to destroy me completely. You play the innocent well. I'm beginning to wonder if my father ever truly kidnapped you two years ago or if this was all your little game from the start."

Suddenly, Claire shrieked as if struck, then stumbled dramatically toward the door.

Melinda lunged forward, refusing to let her slip away.

Claire crashed into a private room, landing hard on the floor with a piercing cry. "Melinda, don't hit me!"

The room fell still.

Footsteps approached, and someone yelled, "Claire? Declan, Claire's in trouble!"

Curled on the floor, Claire clutched her head, terror written across her face. "Melinda, seeing you working as a bar girl and flirting with guests broke my heart. If people talk, it will ruin Declan's reputation. I only tried to stop you. I'm sorry."

Melinda froze. Her mind was blank.

Just then, Declan came over. His imposing figure radiated cold fury as he crouched to gather Claire in his arms. "Claire, I'm here. Did she hurt you?"

His eyes slashed toward Melinda mercilessly.

"Don't worry, Declan," Claire murmured, her lashes wet with trembling tears, the picture of reluctant forgiveness.

A man in the crowd exploded. "Melinda, you vile woman! You and your father locked her up for two years! She was half-dead when she was rescued, and now you dare lay a hand on her again?"

Melinda lifted her chin. "I didn't touch her. And I doubt my father ever hurt her either. Claire, drop the act and tell everyone what really happened two years ago!"

Claire shrieked, her whole body shaking. "Mr. Dawson imprisoned me, Declan! Please save me!"

"You're still tormenting her?" Declan's face darkened with disgust. He shoved Melinda hard, sending her stumbling. "You never learn."

He swept the frail woman into his arms and strode back toward the sofa.

Melinda crashed against the table, bottles toppling, glass shattering. Pain tore through her thigh as shards of glass bit deep.

Blood slid down her smooth leg in a thin, gleaming line, leaving a vivid red trail that caught the light.

The sight was both jarring and enticing, and it drew the stares of every man in the room.

Everyone knew her-Melinda Dawson, Declan Gibson's ex-wife. Once the dazzling socialite, the woman every man had admired.

Now, she stood in a short skirt, her beauty laced with desperation, the kind that made men want to ruin her.

Around her were business partners and sleazy businessmen. They threw curious glances at Declan.

He was now the richest man in the city, feared for the way he toppled his father-in-law and built his power through ruthless methods and ties to both clean and dirty worlds. But his eyes were only on the woman in his arms.

One of the businessmen leaned in, tilting Melinda's chin with a smirk. "Are you working here now? You've knocked over enough drinks. How will you pay for them?"

Darin Barrett, Claire's cousin, scoffed as he shut the private room door. "Claire caught her flirting with the guests and tried to talk her out of it, but Melinda hit her. Watch out-she bites."

"I like a woman with a bit of fire." Ryan Hayes leered, his tone dripping with filth. He threw a glance at Declan. "Mr. Gibson, you don't mind, do you?"

Melinda stood frozen, helpless among the predatory men, her eyes clinging to Declan.

But he didn't move. His eyes were cold, his arms gently holding Claire as he murmured, "Claire, take your medicine. Be good."

Melinda blinked back her tears. He could be tender with a woman; he could be careful. But never with her. The sharpness of it wrung her chest.

Declan's cold eyes flicked to her lingering figure. Was she still standing there, hunting for another man?

He had just been with her, left his mark on her skin, and she dared to sell herself again?

Heat flared in his chest, dark and angry. His lips curved with disdain. "We're divorced. If she wants to sell herself, I won't stop her."

The other men burst into laughter. "Mr. Gibson, that's a good one!"

The words shattered Melinda's heart. She was deeply hurt by his disdain.

She had just lost her innocence last night-taken by him. She had torn up that million-dollar check, thinking she'd kept some shred of dignity. Yet here he was, crushing it into dust.

Declan lounged in his black shirt and trousers, cold and untouchable, holding the woman he cherished as Melinda was humiliated before him.

He didn't flinch, and this broke Melinda's heart.

Ryan crouched beside her, his fingers brushing the blood on her thigh. He brought it to his lips with a thrill, then wrapped an arm around her waist. "Working here won't make you rich. Why not come home with me?"

The other men closed in, their voices low and filthy. "How could she handle a twisted pervert like Ryan?"

"I'm gentler. Be my lover instead."

They spat out more dirty words.

The circle tightened. Melinda was trapped and couldn't leave.

Her chest heaved with panic, shame, and rage. Her eyes, wet and red, darted to the man across the room. "Declan..."

"Declan, the medicine is so bitter," Claire whispered against his shoulder.

Claire turned to her, whispering something, and she giggled in his arms.

The intimate scene stabbed through Melinda, splintering what was left of her pride. Then something in her snapped.

She shoved away the men crowding her, her red eyes blazing wildly.

Her lips curved into a sultry, dangerous smile as she swept her eyes over the room. "Why are you all so impatient, gentlemen? Be patient. I'll choose for myself."