I gave Benjamin Powell seven years of my life.

Seven years of loyalty, of clinging to his warmth whenever his strange need for constant touch consumed him.

Even when I traveled for work, he'd curl up with the underwear I left behind, desperate for comfort.

I thought it was love. I thought we were forever.

Until the day his "condition" was cured.

We were tangled together, the heat of his body familiar, when a phone notification chimed.

A wedding announcement.

I laughed, pressing the screen to his chest.

"Benjamin, look—someone has the same name as you. He even looks just like you."

"Yeah...that's me," he said lazily, brushing his cheek against mine.

The warmth drained from my body. His touch was soft, but his voice turned to ice.

"Eliza loves your photography. You'll take our wedding pictures."

"You've always wanted that new lens, right? Be good, get it done... and you'll get your money.”

***

I froze. I felt like I had been struck by lightning.

"Wait... what did you just say?"

He watched me flinch, a faint, mocking smile tugging at his lips.

"Eliza is kind-hearted. She won't mind letting a poor girl like you share in our happiness."

My voice trembled, eyes burning with tears. "Benjamin, what did these seven years mean to you?"

He let out a low, derisive laugh as he raised an eyebrow. "Just proof of your naïve, self-degrading loyalty. Eliza is different. She's pure and still innocent."

He tightened the grip around my waist as he spoke. The touch that had once been comforting now sent shivers down my spine.

He had promised that once he made it big, I would have a good life. I had believed him for seven years.

When I was fragile, always cold at night, he would tuck my feet into his warmth.

When I had a 40°C fever at 2.00 a.m., he would brave the winter streets for three blocks to buy me medicine.

But now, he had changed.

Seemingly irritated by my reaction, he lifted my chin and narrowed his eyes. "What are you thinking?"

Then, he nibbled at my collarbone. My whole body trembled, and I couldn't help but moan.

Coming back to my senses, I tried to resist, but he just laughed lightly. Desire burned in his eyes, and his hands roamed lower along my waist.

"Don't touch me!" I said, trembling.

Yet my body betrayed me, and his hands grew more daring.

"Abby, didn't you like this?" His voice dripped with provocation.

Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to push him away, but he pressed closer.

I bit my lip, trying to sound bitter.

"Mr. Powell, it must have been hard living with me in this shabby apartment for seven years. Now that you're getting married, shouldn't you leave this place?"

He froze mid-motion. The next second, he looked up at me, the desire gone from his eyes.

"Abigail, what do you mean by that?"

He held my chin and looked down at me. When he saw the redness around my eyes, he stopped cold.

Gently, he reached out and wiped away the tears at the corner of my eyes.

He kissed the corner of my lips, as he always used to.

"Silly, why are you crying? I'm getting married, not dying."

"Benjamin," I whispered. "You might as well be dead."

Benjamin's brow furrowed at my words.

He pulled away from me in irritation, his eyes dark and menacing. "Abigail, don't mistake kindness for weakness."

He didn't spare another glance at my tear-reddened eyes. Instead, he pulled a gilded invitation from his pocket.

"Make sure you show up for the photos. Eliza likes your style."

"No." I looked at the mess on the floor and gave a faint laugh. "Benjamin, let's break up. It's been seven years, and I'm tired of it."

"Enough!" Benjamin cut me off sharply, rage flashing in his eyes. "Abigail, know your limits. Don't act up in front of me."

"Oh? Seven years, and you're still not tired of me?"

I reached for him. He didn't get angry. Instead, he laughed and grabbed my hand before pinning me beneath him.

Just then, his phone rang. The ringtone was cute, sweet, almost teasing—something I'd never heard before.

"Ben, the new wedding ring just arrived. Can we pick it out together?"

His expression softened as he nodded. "Sure. I'll be right there."

He paused, glancing at me beneath him. Then, without hesitation, he pulled away completely and hurried off.

Seven years of love felt like a long, lingering dream. And now, the dream was over.

I quietly began clearing the traces of him from the apartment, packing up everything that belonged to him.

My phone chimed. It was a message from him.

"Remember to come take the photos, or your private pictures will be on every media outlet."

My hands shook as tears dripped onto the screen.

"Fine," I replied.

***

On the wedding day, I went. In worn canvas shoes and a faded T-shirt, I stood out like a sore thumb in the grand ballroom.

Many of Benjamin's friends were there. When they saw me, disdain spread across their faces.

"Well, well, if it isn't the rental girl. What's she doing here?"

"Ha! Seven years of being used and still no status—if it were me, I would be too ashamed to show my face."

All eyes turned to me, full of contempt.

I gripped my camera tightly, forcing myself to ignore the harsh words and judgmental stares. I lowered my head and tried to make my way through the crowd.

The next second, one of Benjamin's friends' dates turned around with a wine glass in hand.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, spilling red wine all over me.

I looked at her. There wasn't a trace of apology on her face—only disdain. She slapped her chest dramatically.

"How dare you come here freeloading, dressed head to toe in cheap street-market clothes? Can you afford to pay for ruining my gown?"

Just as I stood there, utterly humiliated, a cold voice laced with anger cut through the commotion.

"Have you made enough of a scene?"

Benjamin's gaze softened as he noticed my state, a flicker of concern flashing in his eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Elizabeth Burke stepped forward, looping her arm through his.

"Abby, are you okay? There's a changing room with clothes. I can take you to change."

I forced down the unease twisting in my chest and said coolly, "No thanks. Aren't we here to take photos? Let's start."

Elizabeth's eyes welled with tears as she leaned into Benjamin. "Ben, does she not like me?"

He immediately spoke up to defend her.

"Abigail! Don't be ungrateful! Eliza is only trying to help you because she's kind. How dare you act like this? Apologize to her right now!"

I let out a bitter laugh and stared at him coldly.

"Apologize? For what? Did I commit some unforgivable crime? Are we taking the photos or not? If not, I'm leaving."

Just then, Benjamin raised his hand and slapped me across the face.

My head was turned aside, a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of my mouth.

He stared at his hand in shock, a flicker of regret crossing his eyes.

Elizabeth quickly stepped forward. "Ben, it's fine. Abby is probably just insecure because she's poor."

Then, she tried to reach for my arm, but I instinctively dodged. She lost her balance and stumbled into me.

I had no time to react and fell hard to the ground. Shards of glass pierced my ankle.

"Eliza, are you okay?"

I looked up, and in an instant, Benjamin's arm wrapped around Elizabeth's waist, pulling her securely into his embrace.

The panic in his eyes was something I hadn't seen in seven years.

I forced a self-deprecating smile, struggling to stand. But the pain in my ankle and the ache in my chest drained me completely.

The 20-year-old Benjamin would have worried if I had merely scratched a finger.

Seeing glass piercing my ankle, the 27-year-old Benjamin held another woman in his arms without a second thought.

"Benjamin, I don't need you anymore," I thought.

His expression darkened instantly when he saw that I still hadn't risen. "Had enough of this act? When did you get so cruel?"

He yanked me to my feet.

"Are you really this fragile? Who exactly are you trying to impress with this pitiful display?"

I looked at him, incredulous. "Benjamin, it was my ankle that got pierced by glass, not yours. Of course, you won't feel the pain!"

"Shut up!" he roared. You're just trying to make Eliza feel guilty, huh? Get down on your knees and apologize to her this instant, or I won't forgive you!"

When he spoke, his eyes on me were filled with nothing but disgust. The sight pricked at my heart with a dull ache.

It felt as if an invisible hand had gripped my throat tightly, leaving me unable to utter a single word.

When I didn't move, his bodyguards stepped forward and slammed me to the ground.

"Benjamin! You bastard!" I screamed, my voice trembling with rage.

He strode up to me and used the tip of his shoe to lift my chin. The eyes that had once been full of love now held only disgust.

He leisurely pulled his phone from the inner pocket of his suit and unlocked it with a swipe. Then, slowly crouching down, he pressed the screen right up against my face.

On the screen were the intimate photos we had taken together—moments I had once believed were proof of love, now twisted into tools for his threat.

I couldn't help it; tears streamed as I laughed.

"Apologize." His voice was low, laced with threat.

"Or else, I don't mind letting everyone have a good look at... what's down there."

I looked at the photo on the screen, then to the man in front of me—someone who now felt like a complete stranger.

My blood ran cold in an instant. Fear crashed over me like a tidal wave.

Seven years of love, and countless days and nights together—how could he treat me like this?

Benjamin didn't flinch. His eyes locked onto mine, his finger hovering over the send button.

"Abigail, you've always been the obedient one," he said. "My patience has limits. Kneel and bow to Eliza three times, and I'll let this slide."

Tears blurred my vision. I stopped resisting, and my body went limp.

Sensing the shift, the bodyguards loosened their grip.

Summoning the last of my strength, I forced myself upright despite the searing pain. On the carpet littered with glass shards, I knelt toward Eliza.

My voice was cracked and hoarse. "I'm sorry, Ms. Burke. Please forgive me."

Benjamin seemed momentarily taken aback.

He watched as the blood seeping from my ankle slowly stained the carpet red. His brows furrowed slightly, his expression dark and unreadable.

Elizabeth immediately stepped forward and tried to lift me. Her voice was trembling as she said, "Abby, get up. Don't do this..."

Benjamin pocketed his phone.

When he spoke again, his tone was flat. "Had you obeyed earlier, it wouldn't have had to be this humiliating. I'll let it pass this time for Eliza's sake. But if you dare to disrespect her again, it won't be this simple."

He waved at the bodyguards. "Take her and tend to her injuries. Don't let her be an eyesore here. What bad luck."

The bodyguards lifted me and dragged me down the hall. I turned my head, refusing to glance at him as we passed.

The corridor lights flickered. Around the corner, I was shoved into a room and slammed to the floor.

Pain seared through me, and my vision darkened. The air was thick with the acrid smell of cheap smoke.

When I blinked and regained focus, I saw four large men surrounding me.

A man with a broken brow said, "Mr. Powell said you're to drink this bottle. Don't make things difficult."

My heart sank. I was allergic to alcohol.

Once, I had mistakenly eaten a piece of chocolate with alcohol inside and nearly died. Benjamin had found me, panicked, and carried me to the hospital.

He stayed by my side for three days and nights without sleep. When I woke, he promised never to let alcohol near me again.

And yet now, he treated me like this just to vent his anger at another woman.

The broken-browed man removed the cork from the bottle. The heavy smell of wine filled the room, pulling me back into panic.

I struggled to resist, but a hand slammed me against the wall.

"I won't drink! I'm allergic! It'll... it'll make me sick!"

I pressed myself against the wall, trying to steady my stance.

But no one listened.

Another man, scarred across his face, stepped forward. He grabbed my wrist roughly and twisted my arm behind my back.

"Cut the crap. Mr. Powell gave the order. Who do you think you are to bargain?"

I was completely immobilized, forced to watch as the man holding the wine pried my mouth open and shoved the bottle inside.

The icy red liquid poured down my throat, making me choke violently, gasping for air.

"Let go! I'm really allergic!"

My cheeks burned, and a rash spread across my skin. I refused to give in.

I tried to fight back by kicking the man hard. He groaned in pain, then slapped me across the face.

"Bitch! How dare you resist!"

His eyes darkened. Then, he smashed the wine bottle against my head. Blood gushed from my forehead instantly.

Breathing grew harder with every passing second; the lights around me blurred.

Somewhere in the distance, I heard Benjamin's frantic voice. "Eliza, what are you doing here? Everyone's waiting for you."

I laughed bitterly. He was not looking for me.

The rash had spread to my neck. I curled up, trying to crawl toward the door. Before I could reach it, my hair was yanked back violently.

"Trying to run?" The scarred man's voice dripped with impatience. He yanked me upright.

"Please... I'm allergic... I can't breathe!" I begged, but he only sneered.

The next second, he tore my clothes. I raised my arms to shield myself, but he kicked me hard.

"Behave yourself. Mr. Powell's already handed you over to us, so drop the act of being some virtuous martyr!

"Everyone knows you don't even need money to spread your legs. You clung to Mr. Powell for seven years, and you've long since been played out!"

My clothes were finally stripped away, and greedy hands roamed over my body.

They took turns venting their lust on me, not one of them caring that my face had already turned purple.

I didn't know how long had passed before the voices around me slowly faded away.

Silence settled in.

The door opened, and a rush of cold wind swept through. The stench clinging to my body made me retch.

"Benjamin, I can't understand. We've been together for seven years. What debt do I owe you that you would treat me this way?" I asked myself.

Supporting myself against the wall, I slowly stood up. Following the trace of fresh air, I wandered to the rooftop.

Pulling out my battered phone, I gathered the last of my strength to send Benjamin one final message.

"I never want to see you again."

Once the text was sent, I tossed the phone aside, a strange lightness washing over me.

Content, I closed my eyes. I spread my arms wide and let my body fall.

When I landed at Benjamin's feet, he was cradling Elizabeth, his face full of doting amusement.

With a frown of irritation, he muttered, "Why hasn't that wretched woman come out for photos yet? I've spoiled her far too much."

The next second, my blood splattered across his trousers.

His eyes widened in horror as he shoved Elizabeth away.