If you and I cannot escape the sea of sin

I’ve always loved dogs, so when I was a child, Grandfather placed a leash in my hand. He told me the boy technically my uncle, Anthony, would be my pet.

From that day on, I learned to swing the whip. Laughing, I lashed him until he bled, all the while respectfully calling him Uncle.

Later, the dog broke its chains and turned on its master.

In public, I remained the unassailable heiress of the Jessica empire. In private, late at night, he would grip my throat, force me to my knees, and demand to know when I’d give him a child.

I took it all in silence.

Until the day I learned I was pregnant—and overheard him soothing his long-lost first love. “Marry me,” he said. “I’ll deal with Jessica so she won’t be in your way.”

My fingers found the scar on my arm. No heartbreak, just the quiet tally of a countdown.

When the seventh mark appeared, I would be free of him for good.

---

My drifting consciousness snapped back as Anthony’s ragged breathing slowly eased. We clung to each other like any ordinary couple, limbs tangled.

A flicker of warmth stirred in my chest. I opened my mouth to speak, but a sharp ringtone cut me off.

Anthony snatched up his phone. Seeing the caller ID, he pulled out of me at once and answered, his voice softening. “Grace, what’s wrong?”

Grace—Anthony’s long-lost first love, the girl who’d saved his life years ago. The woman he’d spent tens of millions wooing with flowers, yachts, and starlit villas. The one he’d proposed to ten times.

Ice water poured over me, washing away every lingering trace of pleasure.

I stayed silent. I swallowed the words that had almost spilled out in the heat of the moment—

*I’m almost a month along.*

“Anthony,” Grace’s wounded voice came through the speaker, “you went to see Jessica again, didn’t you?”

His body still carried the heat of desire, but his eyes turned cold as they flicked toward me. Gently, he soothed her: “She’s just a bitch. If you don’t like it, I won’t touch her again.”

Whatever Grace said next, Anthony didn’t bother lowering his voice as he headed for the bathroom. “Be good. Just say you’ll marry me, and I’ll deal with Jessica immediately. I won’t let her be an eyesore for you.”

My heart plummeted. Ignoring the ache in my back and legs, I slid out of bed, wiped the sticky wetness from my skin, and curled up on the rug at the foot of the bed. I dragged the blanket over my naked body, trying to steal back a little warmth.

A memory surfaced: eight years ago, after Anthony had tried to run from the Jessica family and been dragged back by Grandfather. Night after night, he’d slept curled on the floor of my room like a dog, utterly still.

Back then, everyone thought my betrayal and torment had broken his spirit for good. No one knew that,