You really don't remember?" he asked quietly.
Dangerously.
Before I could react—
He shoved me down harder into the sofa, his weight pressing me flat.
"I waited," Cheng said, voice low, each word measured, "for the right moment to ruin you."
His hands gripped my shoulders, fingers digging in deep enough to hurt. His breath was uneven now, controlled—but barely.
The sharp scent of wine mixed with his cologne, heavy in the air.
"You really thought no one would find out?" he murmured.
Pain flared where he held me, but something colder crept in beneath it.
"What… are you talking about?" I asked, my voice no longer steady.
A drop of sweat slid down my temple.
Because somewhere deep inside—
I already knew.
I just didn't want to hear it.
Cheng's gaze darkened, something raw breaking through his calm.
"I'm talking about…" he said slowly.
His knee pressed harder between my thighs, locking me in place.
"…the person you killed."
My breath hitched.
"What—"
"Monster."
The word snapped out of him, sharp and filled with something that sounded too much like hatred.
My chest tightened.
"Who are you talking about?" I demanded, but the edge in my voice was slipping.
His hand slid from my shoulder—
To my throat.
"You don't know?" he murmured.
Then his fingers tightened.
Hard.
Air cut off instantly, a gasp tearing from my lips as my hands flew to his wrist.
My vision blurred.
His face was the only thing I could see.
Cold.
Furious.
Unforgiving.
"You don't remember?" he whispered.
And then—
He said it.
Quiet.
Final.
"Your ex-wife."
Everything stopped.
The world.
My breath.
My thoughts.
Those two words echoed in my head—
Over.
And over.
Like something I could never escape.