Chapter 2

When I got home, I took a shower and treated my wound. Only then did I notice that Simon had also returned. His face looked very bad.

I asked meticulously, "Did you have a fight with Cecilia?"

"Diana Rivera!" He scolded coldly, walked up to me in big strides, grabbed my wrist, and pressed me against the edge of the bed.

I struggled to push him away, but Simon's strength was completely different from mine.

The lamp flickered, and the light pierced my eyes, causing me to instinctively close them, but tears kept streaming out.

His movements paused for a moment, he pinched my chin, forcing me to lift my face. "Why are you crying? Do you feel wronged?"

"Diana, didn't you say that as long as you are with me, any status is fine with you?"

The kiss that landed on my lips had a vicious force. Soon I tasted the sweet and metallic taste of blood.

Simon commanded me, "Everything I taught you before..."

"Did you forget it? Close your eyes."

"Your eyes are the least like hers."

In his harsh movements, the pain intensified.

In the moment of confusion when I opened my eyes, I happened to meet his inexplicably gloomy gaze, as if it were some kind of emotional outburst.

Suddenly, I understood. I had upset Cecilia, and Simon was punishing me. I was engulfed in a huge sense of shame, and I faintly remembered past events.

When we first met, I was a poor student with nothing and he was the esteemed Mr. Turner.

In the bar where I worked, he got drunk and glared at my face. "Don't use a face so much resemble hers to be such a cheap bitch here!"

Later, my grandmother, who I depended on, fell ill, and I borrowed money from every possible online platform, still short of three-hundred-thousand dollars.

For that, I sold myself to Simon.

The price was that he wouldn't let me continue my studies and pursue a master's degree.

"A stand-in must look like a stand-in." His tone was calm, and in just a few simple words, he decided my fate.

"You said you liked me, didn't you? At least for these three years, stay by my side and don't go anywhere." Cecilia left him because she went abroad for further studies.

Simon would not allow the same situation to happen again.

From that day on, my dream of pursuing scientific research and further education truly became an unattainable dream.

My grandmother didn't survive the complications after surgery; she held on for six months but still passed away.

I was mentally numb, sitting in the cemetery all night.

In the middle of the night, rain began to drizzle.

A parasol suddenly appeared above my head. It was Simon.

He looked down at me, his eyes lowered, and his tone unusually gentle, "How long do you want to stay here? I'll stay with you."

We were together for three years.

I took care of him attentively.

In some moments of our time together, there were brief moments of tenderness.

But I knew that Simon actually looked down on me.

That time, when I went to pick him up from a bar, his friends stopped me with jeers.

They sized me up and laughed, saying, "Indeed, you do look a bit like Cecilia. I heard you were a talented student at Stanford, and you even worked on a patent project?"

"Is it true? Hey, how about you show us a performance here, talented student?"

I pinched my palm and looked at them. "Scientific research is a serious matter, not something to be made fun of."

The man leading the mocking sneered, "What are you pretending for? You talk about scientific research, but isn't it just to sell yourself for a good price?"

A bottle of alcohol was pushed in front of me. "If you're willing, then drink up. Once this bottle is finished, Simon will go with you."

Throughout the whole time, Simon leaned against the couch, playing with his lighter between his fingers, watching me.

Perhaps due to intoxication, his usually indifferent appearance changed; his lips curved slightly, and his gaze became lazy.

"Drink up, show them what you are made of," he said.

I paused for two seconds and asked him, "If it were Cecilia standing here today, would you make her drink as well?"