Chapter 3: The Girl in the Mirror

I didn’t go back to Willow Creek. I just found a random hotel to stay in.

The AC rattled above me, drowning out the city noise. I hugged a scratchy pillow to my chest.

After showering and calming down, I slowly realized something was off.

A kept girlfriend who dares to kick out her benefactor—I must be the first.

I’m getting bolder with Ethan now, when I used to be so timid.

The first time I met Ethan was at a Hollywood industry mixer. My manager forced me to cozy up to some big directors and investors.

My family was actually well-off, but my dad’s construction project had gone wrong—not only did he break a leg, he used all our savings to compensate the workers.

We were deep in debt, and my parents were at their wits’ end every day.

I wanted to help, but got tricked by a talent scout into signing a nightmare contract. I had no resources and was forced to attend parties and drink with strangers.

I couldn’t afford to break the contract, so I pretended to be sick and played dumb to avoid it a few times.

Until that time, when I really couldn’t avoid it anymore.

I opened the private room door. Several middle-aged men were inside, but Ethan, seated at the main table, stood out like a breath of fresh air.

But as soon as I arrived, he was about to leave, so I hurriedly followed him out.

I asked, "Sir, can I go with you?"

He was much taller than me, looking down. "What? Do I look like the easiest to mess with?"

Of all those people, he looked the hardest to mess with, but I didn’t dare say so.

I shook my head, speaking from the heart: "You’re the best looking."

Ethan snorted. "I know."

Seeing he was impatient, I forced myself to say, "You look the most like a good person."

He gave a half-smile. "Sorry, sweetheart. You’re barking up the wrong tree."

Then he left, and my manager dragged me back.

In the private room, I was forced to drink a lot. When a bloated, jowly director with a gold watch and a predatory grin put his hand on my thigh, I struggled desperately and knocked over a wine glass.

He slapped me, cursed me for being ungrateful, and tried to tear my clothes off.

In my panic, I grabbed a broken wine glass and stabbed it into his thigh.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Was I about to get sued, arrested, blacklisted—or all three?

Then the private room door opened, and Ethan stood outside.

He glanced inside, and the director who’d been screaming like a pig suddenly shut up.

"Didn’t you want to come with me? Well, aren’t you coming?"

I dropped the glass shard and threw myself into his arms, shaking so hard I couldn’t stand, until he picked me up and carried me away.

The memory still makes my heart race. That night, I realized how quickly the world could turn on a girl, and how sometimes, rescue comes from the most unexpected places.