Chapter 3

As Marceline dragged her suitcase to Delilah Mallard's home, she felt a little ashamed. She had left Cloudcrest Bay with nothing of value but 200 dollars in cash. In the three years of her marriage, the repeated arguments had driven her into severe depression. She became afraid of going outside to meet people. So, instead of going out, she spent her days in the villa obsessively refining her cooking skills. It didn't matter if she burned her hands so much that they blistered, she still loved Curtis and wanted to salvage their crumbling relationship. But no matter how many meals she made, they'd just go cold. In the end, he'd never touched any of them. Though not related by blood, Marceline and Delilah had always seen each other as sisters—thanks to their closeness and similar last names. The two of them had left their small town together, and Delilah was adopted by a family soon after. She was currently married, living a simple life with her partner in a modest 750-square-foot apartment. After that, Marceline met Curtis. When she was on the brink of starvation, he had tossed her a piece of bread. Ever since then, she shamelessly latched onto him, scraping by together through odd jobs. Dripping wet from head to toe, Marceline briefly wiped her face before ringing the doorbell. Delilah answered the door in her pajamas and was taken aback. Her husband's annoyed voice sounded from the bedroom, "Who's at the door?" Delilah quickly pulled Marceline inside before fetching a clean towel for her. "Marcy, what are you doing here in the middle of the night? And why are you soaking wet? Did you fight with Curtis?" "Can I stay the night, Delilah?" "Of course. We have a spare bedroom. It's pretty small, so I hope you don't mind." Delilah stuffed a fresh set of pajamas into her arms before efficiently spreading clean sheets on Marceline's bed. The bathroom was so cramped that it could barely fit two people, but it had a dry and wet area. There were thick brown stains in the corners—a result of years of neglect. Marceline took a quick shower. Then, not daring to use the blow dryer because of how late it was already, she went straight to the bedroom. The room was indeed tiny. Other than a small bed, there was only a table that was less than two feet wide. She heard Jared Haynes' voice coming from the master bedroom. "Who is it?" "It's Marcy. She probably had a fight with Curtis." "She's a rich man's wife—what's she doing here? Don't you know who Curtis is? I've been working at the lowest rung of Wolfe Group for three years now and never even got to meet him once." "Hey, that's enough. Marcy's my sister." The whispers stopped there. After Marceline gently dried her long hair, she bundled it in the towel. Then, she neatly stuffed the wet ends of her hair into it before going to sleep. … At seven in the morning, the clatter of pots and pans echoed from the kitchen. Although her hair had dried overnight, Marceline woke up with a pounding headache. Forcing herself up, she walked out of the room. There were five small dishes on the table, and Jared was standing there setting the plates. Upon seeing Marceline, he warmly said, "Marcy, come and have a seat. I went out early to buy fish, and Delilah made gumbo for you." Normally, they just had toast for breakfast since they were busy with work, but they'd gone all out that day because Marceline was there. Delilah brought over three plates of pancakes and smiled at her. "Let's eat." Ever since Marceline had attached herself to Curtis when she was 12, he had never really deprived her of anything, so her complexion was actually quite radiant. However, this kindness of his had been mistaken for love in her youth. It was only later on that she'd realized he'd only seen her as a little sister. Marceline lowered her eyes. The pounding in her head left her looking visibly unwell. Jared enthusiastically pushed some strawberries toward her. "Delilah was up at five, cooking— Oh, Marcy, did you know I work at Wolfe Group? My superior is always bootlicking the higher-ups. Just yesterday, he reduced a young colleague of mine to tears. "I heard he got the job through connections. He's cut my salary twice… Any chance you could speak to Curtis about him?" Delilah shot him a glare, but Jared merely smiled. She quickly ladled a bowl of mushroom soup for Marceline. "You don't look too good. Since you got rained on last night, have some soup to warm you up. Don't mind Jared." Marceline looked up, her pale cheeks tinged with a feverish red. "Actually, Jared, I'm getting a divorce." The room fell silent. Jared's surprise was brief. He asked, "So half his fortune is yours now, right? Marcy, I know he paid for you to go to the best college, but didn't you marry him right after graduation? "That must mean you've never worked a day in your life, so there's no way you know how to manage money. I'm worried you'll get swindled with all that money." "Jared!" Delilah snapped. Jared stopped talking and quietly resumed eating. Delilah and Marceline had known each other ever since they were little. When they came to Imperialis together years ago, they were like two drops of rain blending into a massive ocean—even survival alone was a struggle. After Delilah got adopted, Marceline drifted from job to job with Curtis. At least Curtis had treated her well, working himself to exhaustion to put them both through school. Delilah took a deep breath. "Just keep your money safe. If you want to buy a house, I'll have Jared help you. He's got friends in real estate—" "I left with nothing." Marceline didn't touch the soup and merely stated, "He didn't give me a single cent." Jared's face darkened. He pulled the plate of strawberries back and helped himself to them. After most of the strawberries were gone, he stood up and turned to Delilah. "I almost forgot to tell you. Mom's coming to take you for a check-up in a few days. Get the guest room ready. Family should come first." Delilah didn't respond. Soon, Jared left, shutting the door behind him. All that food on the table suddenly looked unappetizing. "Sorry for putting you in a tough spot, Delilah," Marceline said. Delilah's eyes turned red. She sighed. "You didn't. So, how did you two turn out like this? If my memory serves me right, he used to be good to you. "Remember that time he scolded you when you secretly took on part-time work? He worked five jobs a day, paid for both your tuition, and all the scholarships he earned went to you back then. "And when you nearly suffered brain damage in that accident that one time, he did translation work tirelessly for almost a year to make money. How did that all change now that he's rich?" Marceline's throat hurt to even swallow. Although their early years had been spent in poverty, it had still been full of good times. This was why she'd clung so tightly to their fragile bond for seven more years. Only when she was broken beyond recognition did she finally convince herself to let go. "I'll start job hunting this afternoon." "Marcy, if you need to cry, just let it out." But Marceline couldn't cry anymore. After three years of being married, there were no more tears left to cry. After breakfast, she insisted on washing the dishes. However, Delilah felt bad seeing her beautiful, slender hands getting dirty. She said, "Your hands aren't meant for chores. No matter how poor you two were back then, Curtis would never let you do any of this." Marceline froze, and the prickling pain came rushing back. It was so intense that it took her breath away. After Delilah did the dishes, she left in a hurry since she had work. Meanwhile, Marceline stayed in the apartment alone until noon. Then, she went to the courthouse with her documents. However, at 1:00 pm, Curtis still hadn't shown up. Marceline called him, and as always, he didn't answer. So, she called Ken. After all, for the past three years, he was the only person she could ask for information from about Curtis' schedule. "Mr. Blevins, where's Curtis?" "Mrs. Wolfe, he's away on a business trip. He'll be back in about three days." Marceline sat on a bench, propping her elbows on her knees as her head spun. "Can you give me his upcoming schedule? I just want to know when he'll be free." Ken awkwardly looked at the man sitting nearby, exuding a cold and distant air.