Chapter 4 My Husband, the Escort?

Amanda's POV

My throat was a wasteland, scratched raw as I croaked, "Out." The hangover clawed at my skull, a merciless beast shredding my sanity. I'd barely slept, and the silk pillows mocked me, useless against the pounding agony. My head throbbed like a death knell, each pulse a scream. I'm falling apart. No one cares. Last night broke me.

Elizabeth's voice shrieked through the phone, a jagged blade of disdain. "Your father's beyond furious! Madison saw you staggering out of the Blue Diamond with some filthy nobody!" Her words slashed deep, dripping with scorn.

A hollow, bitter laugh tore from me, scraping my dry throat. "Oh, Madison, the perfect little traitor, spying as always." She thrives on my ruin. No one's on my side. My chest ached, loneliness gnawing like a starved dog.

"Don't you dare sass me!" she snapped, her tone a venomous whip. "Get home now! Your father's set on the Wilson deal—you're not escaping."

"I bet," I muttered, venom lacing my voice. I slammed the phone down, my hands trembling, head exploding with pain. They all hate me. I'm just a pawn.

The door crashed open, and Ethan Blackwood strode in, pristine in his suit, exuding control. My stomach lurched, panic and despair tangling wildly. Blackwood? A billionaire? No—impossible. My mind reeled, grasping at straws. I'm delusional. Alone. Worthless.

"Morning," he said, calm as a still lake, his dark eyes steady. "Head okay?"

I hauled myself up, slow and shaky, the room spinning. My clothes clung to me, wrinkled from last night—a small mercy. "About last night…" What did I do? I'm a mess no one wants.

"Your desperate marriage proposal?" His lips twitched, a smirk teasing, eyes glinting with cruel amusement. He's laughing at my pathetic life.

"I'm leaving," I rasped, swinging my legs off the bed. Dizziness hit like a tidal wave, my vision blurring, and I clutched the edge, tears burning. No one's here for me. This was a mistake.

"Was it?" He leaned against the doorframe, his gaze piercing, unyielding. "You were sobbing, begging me to save you."

"I was drunk!" I yelled, my voice cracking, shame flooding me as tears spilled. I'm a fool. No one loves me.

"Or finally real," he said, stepping closer, his voice low, taunting. "Car's ready if you want to run. But listen—you're trapped in a marriage mess. I need… something. Fake it with me."

My jaw dropped, despair crashing into a faint, pitiful hope. He's mocking my misery—or offering a rope? "You're insane," I whispered, voice quivering, tears streaking my face.

"Dead serious," he said, his stare unrelenting, a flicker of something cold in his eyes.

I sucked in a ragged breath, my chest tight with heartbreak. No one cares. Maybe he's all I've got. "Fine," I sobbed. "We fake it. But if you find someone—anyone—we're done. I'm nothing anyway."

He paused, his face tightening—disgust, maybe—before a curt nod. We stumbled out, and a gleaming Maybach waited, mocking my ruin. "Rental," he said, smirking at my glare. Liar. I'm a joke to him.

Silence choked the ride until his phone buzzed. His jaw clenched, eyes flashing with rage, and my stomach sank. Even he's hiding things. I'm so alone.

"You okay?" I asked, my voice small, trembling with dread.

"Perfect," he said, his smile icy, fake. "Small problem, though."

A car pulled up—Madison, her sneer a dagger through the glass. My heart shattered, rage and helplessness surging. She snapped a photo, mouthing, "Got you." She hates me. They all do.

At Davis Manor, Dad's summons was a guillotine. Madison lounged in his study, smirking like a victor. I stood, head splitting, tears brimming, my defiance a fragile shield against the crushing weight of being unwanted.

"Explain!" he bellowed, thrusting his phone at me—Madison's pic, me with Ethan. My soul crumpled, despair drowning me. I'm nothing to them—just trash.

"I don't bow to gossip," I choked out, meeting his glare, tears streaming, my voice breaking with pain.

"No?" His voice turned lethal, quiet as death, swiping to red-stained financials. "Davis Corp's dying. Wilson's our savior. End this… disgrace."

"Disgrace?" I sobbed, daring him, my heart bleeding. Say it—say I'm worthless!

Madison purred, venom masked as pity. "Sis, a bar rat to dodge Wilson? Pathetic." She's dancing on my grave.

"Wilson saves us," Dad snarled. "He wants a wife. Stop this—or Grandpa's out of Cedar Grove."

My breath stopped, terror and heartbreak strangling me. Grandpa—my only love—gone? "You wouldn't," I whispered, voice a broken plea, tears flooding.

"Fees bleed us dry," he said, smug, flipping papers like it was nothing. "Wilson. Tomorrow."

I nodded once, a sob escaping, despair swallowing me whole. They've won. I'm nothing.

In my room—my gilded cage—I paced, sobs wrenching free, my chest caving. A stranger's wife? My last gasp—or my doom? Ethan's voice broke through, soft, mocking my pain. "Hey, gorgeous. Headache? Coffee—double vanilla, right?"

I froze, heart splitting—grief and longing warring. He remembers? When no one else cares? "Not now," I whimpered, voice shaking.

"Wilson's all online," he said, too gentle, a cruel tease. "You don't have to break alone."

Tears poured, a flood of agony—No one's cared since Grandpa faded. "I'm fine," I lied, sobbing, voice a wreck.

"I know you're strong," he murmured, a lifeline I couldn't trust. "But I'm here."

Madison burst in, no knock, her malice a storm. I hung up, terror spiking. She'll destroy me.

"Secret lover?" she sneered, snatching my phone, smashing it against the wall. "Maybach trash?" Her nails sank into my arm, drawing blood.

"Stop," I begged, voice a whisper, tears blinding me as she slammed me into the wall, pain exploding.

"Or what?" Her hand clutched my throat, squeezing, her eyes alight with hate. "No one's coming, Amanda."

"Nathan's mine," she hissed, glee twisting her face. "You're alone—always will be."

"He didn't want you," I sobbed, a broken laugh escaping. "You're his scraps."

Her smugness cracked, rage flaring. "I didn't pay for love."

"Why'd he leave?" I cried, voice raw, desperate. Tell me I'm unlovable!

She grinned, a predator's triumph. "We're broke. Wilson wants you—Nathan ran. I'm his escape from your doom."

My hand shook, glass clutched tight—Two years, and he threw me away! I hurled it, shards flying, a scream tearing free. "Out!" I wailed, heart in pieces.

She sauntered off, tossing, "Dress up for Wilson, sis." I'm dead to them.

I collapsed, staring at the glass, sobs racking me, a void where love should be. Ethan's voice lingered—The only one who cared. I grabbed my cracked phone, dialing through tears.

"Ethan? Talk. Now." My voice broke, despair and hope colliding. Save me—I'm unlovable.