Chapter 0006

Dante looked at me across the dinner table with so much pain in his eyes. “I don't think it's something I should share with you, Ollie. I don't want to bother you.”

What gibberish. I worked not to roll my eyes. Instead, I said, “All right,” remembering how I’d been so worried about him the first time around that I’d peppered him with questions until he finally spoke up. He must have expected that response from me because, when I didn’t offer it, his face dropped in disappointment.

After several long moments of silence, he said, “It's about my mom.”

I raised my eyebrows. Fuck your mom. I don't care about her. I desperately wanted to say those words, but I stayed calm and listened to his pathetic story.

“She's hospitalized and in a critical condition. It’s an eye infection.” He searched my eyes for sympathy, but all I felt was anger, irritation, and the urge to curse at him.

“Oh,” I said, doing my best to feign compassion I didn’t feel.

“She’s the only one I have besides Grandma, and Grandma is going to lose her mind if her only child loses her eyes.” He held my hand, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“You should hire the best doctors to take care of her,” I suggested, retracting my hand from his grasp.

“Of course, I’ll do that. But that's not the problem, baby.”

“Then what's the problem?”

“The doctor said she needs a transplant in order to see again.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“So tell them to do the transplant.”

He raised his eyebrows, wearing a look of disbelief.

“Did I say something wrong?” I asked, knowing he was pissed off and internally delighted about that.

He groaned, rubbing his forehead in obvious frustration. “No, you didn't.”

Silence fell between us again, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying every bit of his frustration and the internal struggle he must have been experiencing.

The old Olivia would have done exactly what I did before, offering myself as a sacrifice. I could see now that was obviously what he had expected. But I hadn’t behaved as he expected, and he didn’t know what to do. I worked hard not to show my glee.

Toward the end of our dinner, he held my hand and broke the silence between us. “Olivia...” He squeezed my hand, wearing a pained look, like he had so much on his mind to pour out.

“Hmm? Is there a problem?” I raised my eyebrows, waiting to see if he had another trick to use on me. Bring it on, jerk!

“Uhm... The thing is...” He took a deep breath. “The thing is... I need your help, babe. I really do,” he said with sincerity and last-hope desperation in his eyes.

“My help? With what?” I leaned forward and pulled a worried expression.

“Fuck! I don't know how to go about this.” He released my hand and ruffled his hair.

I patiently waited for him to spill his deceptive words, the words I naively fell for before. My stomach churned, thinking about how I’d ruined my life for him.

“Um, the thing is... I need a donor for my mom.” He held my hand again and squeezed gently.

My skin crawled in disgust.

He rose from the chair, then went to his knees, a tear spilling onto his cheeks.

What an act.

“Can you please help me?” he begged. “I'll be forever indebted to you.” He sniffled, then continued to beg, telling me how he’d hire the best doctors and assuring me I’d be fine if I did it. Then he turned on the waterworks, crying his eyes out like his life depended on it.

Instead of the compassion and pain I felt for him back then, I felt only disgust.

“Babe, please say something. Please help me.”

There was so much I had to say to him. I wanted to curse and tell him I knew he was nothing but scum. But I held that tirade back and just stared at him for several moments. Finally, I said, “I want to break up.” I yanked my hands from his and rose from my chair.

I had no intention of actually breaking up with him. No, I had big plans for him, and breaking up was too easy. But I wanted to hear him beg me to stay with him.

His face went pale and his mouth dropped open. “H-huh?” His lips quivered as he gazed at me in shock.

“Let's end things, Dante.” I picked up my handbag and turned to leave.

He reached out and grabbed my hand, stopping me. “What do you mean, you want to break up? Why?” he asked, rising to his feet. Then he allowed some of his mask to slip, chuckling in amusement. I could easily surmise his thoughts; How dare you break up with me? Who do you think you are?

He confirmed my thoughts with his next words. “Who do you think you are?” he snarled. “Some classy girl? You want to dump me? You must be joking.”

When I didn’t flinch, he changed tactics, replacing his anger with that pathetic expression once again. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean that. I’m just stressed about my mom. You won't take it to heart, will you?” He placed his hands on my shoulders and gazed into my eyes.

My insides leapt with joy, seeing how quickly the tables were turning.

“Baby…” He cupped my cheek. “You don’t really want to break up with me, do you? We’ve only been dating for a month, and I have plans for us, babe. I really do.”

I stared at him wordlessly.

“You know I love you, right? Please say something.” He squeezed my shoulders gently, then said, “Let's get married,” with a fake tender smile that made me want to puke.

It was time to make him even more uncomfortable. “Do you want to marry me in exchange for your mom's transplant?” I asked.

Anger flicker in his eyes for a second before he could hide it. “What? Of course, not. Why would I do that? I love you, Ollie. That's why I want to marry you. Please. You’ll marry me, won’t you?”

I stared, unable to speak, because I wasn’t sure what to say. Finally, I settled on, “I’ll think about it.” Then I forced a smile and stepped away from him.

I needed to make plans, though I didn’t know where to start. All I knew was that I was going to fuck him up so badly he would regret the day he met me.