Chapter 2

When Tamara returned home from the hospital, she found Damien sitting on the couch in the living room, wearing a long face. Next to him sat the meek and helpless Carol. "Tamara Schmidt, I was only out of the house for a moment, and you just can't wait to leave, huh?" Damien asked. "Why did Tammy leave the house without telling me? I was so worried about her for nothing. Tammy, coax me right now. If you do, I'll forgive everything you did," said the voice in his heart. Two contradicting voices rang in Tamara's ears, but she ignored his genuine thoughts and hid the medical report in her handbag. "Why is she here?" Tamara spat coldly, glowering at Carol so menacingly it was as though she could bore holes through her. Carol trembled and hid her petite frame behind Damien, avoiding Tamara as if she were a ferocious animal. "Carol's place is flooded. She can't live there and will stay here for the time being." Only then did Tamara notice the pink suitcase in the corridor and the unfamiliar cartoon rug drying on the patio. Meanwhile, her favorite tea set remained shattered on the floor, just as she had left it when she went out. Nobody had cleaned it up. "Say something, Tammy. Tell me to chase her away. I only brought her home to make you mad and jealous. As long as you say you don't want her to stay, I'll ask her to leave right away," Damien's inner voice echoed. Even though his expression remained aloof, his inner voice brimmed with anticipation and anxiety. Tamara snickered. "Whatever. She can stay here if that's what you want, just as long as both of you are happy." "Tamara, why are you so petty—What? What did you say, Tamara?" Damien thought his ears were playing tricks on him. This woman didn't seem like the Tamara who loved him. Unable to control the anger boiling within, Tamara hollered, "I said she can stay here if she wants. If she's unhappy with the guest room, I'll let you two have the master bedroom. Did you hear me?" "Ms. Schmidt, I won't ask for so much. I'm grateful you're letting me stay here for a few days," Carol said, tears welling up in her eyes as though Tamara had bullied her. "Tammy is mad. I knew she still loves me," Damien thought. Even though Damien's inner voice sounded delighted, his outward voice was icy. "Why are you making a scene and yelling? You've startled Carol. Do you still think of yourself as a rich, young lady? Your parents are already—" Realizing he had gone too far, Damien stopped abruptly, but it was too late. Coldness filled Tamara's eyes, and she gave Damien a sharp slap. "Get lost! Both of you, get the hell out—" Perhaps she was too worked up, but she started coughing violently, and the taste of blood rose from her throat to her mouth. Covering her lips, she opened the door and tossed Carol's belongings outside. Her reaction shocked Damien, and he was stunned for a moment. "I'm sorry, Ms. Schmidt. I'll leave immediately. Please don't be mad. Mr. Rayleigh, I'll be leaving now." Looking terrified, Carol said she would leave, but she stared at Damien tearfully instead. Meanwhile, Damien was frustrated that Tamara hadn't reacted as he had anticipated. "Tamara Schmidt, I think I've been too nice to you, and now you're spoiled rotten, getting jealous so easily." Tamara wanted to laugh. Whether she got mad or not, her behavior was unacceptable. What should she do so that he'd approve of her? But now, she felt terribly unwell. After tossing out Carol's belongings, she stormed back to her bedroom, slammed the door shut, and locked it. When all was done, she finally retched in the bathroom. Suddenly, she vomited blood and collapsed onto the cold, tiled floor of the bathroom, feeling utterly exhausted. Outside the room, Damien and Carol remained unaware of what was happening inside. Carol kept apologizing to Damien in a pitiful tone. "Mr. Rayleigh, this is my fault. I shouldn't have suggested staying at your place. I'll leave right now." "You don't have to leave! This is my house, and I call the shots here," Damien said emotionlessly, as though deliberately saying it for Tamara's ears. "Really? But Ms. Schmidt is—" "Ignore her," he interjected. "Tammy is disobedient. I'll have to punish her this time," he thought. Punishment? That was the last thing Tamara cared about. In the evening, Damien lost patience when Tamara stayed locked in her bedroom. He called the maid over and instructed, "Tell Tamara to come out for dinner." The maid knocked on Tamara's door, but she didn't respond. Curled up in bed, Tamara cried her heart out, her tears soaking her silk pillow. "Mr. Rayleigh, Mrs. Rayleigh refuses to open the door," the maid stammered meekly, worried Damien might fire her on the spot in a fit of anger. Damien massaged the spot between his brows and decided to get Tamara downstairs himself. He knocked on the door, but Tamara still refused to open it. Frustrated, he began banging on it. "Tamara Schmidt, what do you mean by this? Open the door now!" The constant banging on the door terrified Tamara. It reminded her of the bullying she had suffered from the other girls in her class when she was a kid because she talked very little. They had cornered her in an equipment room and hurled verbal abuse at her. In the end, they locked her in the dark equipment room for the entire day until Damien found her with a flashlight in his hand, out of breath. At that time, she had thought Damien was the hero of her life. She'd marry him when they grew up and be with him forever. But now, Damien had become a terrifying man. Tamara covered her ears, frozen in place. When Tamara didn't answer him for a long time, Damien kicked the door open, breaking the frame. On the bed, Tamara trembled, tears welling up in her eyes, and Damien softened his expression. "Tammy, don't be afraid. It's me. I'm here." In big strides, he marched to her side and gently scooped her into his arms, but she pushed him away. "Damien, let's get a divorce," she uttered lifelessly, as though she had lost all her energy. "I don't allow that. Tamara, I forbid you from divorcing me. I'll tell her to get lost right now. Don't be mad. I'm sorry, Tammy. I shouldn't have made you angry. Don't divorce me." Like someone unhinged, he kept apologizing to Tamara, holding her tightly in his arms, worried that she'd slip out if he wasn't careful. "Let's break up—" "It's not like that. Tammy, don't say these things." An idea struck him, and he carried her to the living room. "Carol, get lost! Disappear from my sight right now. Get out!" Damien roared, as if to make up for his earlier behavior. The unexpected roar startled Carol. Blood drained from her face as panic, helplessness, and disbelief flashed across her features, mingled with a hint of menace. Under Damien's terrifying gaze, Carol fled from the Rayleigh residence.