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Five Million Dollars To Erase You

Chapter 5 

Word Count: 721    |    Released on: 03/11/2026

ia's

beat, but my face

compiled some old photo albums of my late mother and wants to

toward the ballroom,

his eyes locked on mine, hunting

ce contacted her," he said

online and reached out," I a

further, a tremendous

ampagne tower, and the tottering tower of glasses to

Brenda screa

t hesitate for

rd, wrapping his entire body around Bren

champagne tower cr

eavy bottles rained down square

apse hurled me onto t

y gown in an instant, opening gashes a

lood soaked through my dr

into chaos - scream

iles, gasping in pain, my palm

frantically cradling her

e you hurt? Did a

ng! I'm so scared!" Brenda c

g turn and see me lyi

nd he took half a step

eli

leeding!" Brenda buried her fac

He turned to his personal

melia to the hospital." H

through the doors amid the murmurs of the guests - never once

yself up over the shattered glass through sheer will, and

R - twelve stitches in my f

estate at two in the morning, and locked myself ins

radiated through my body, but

my bedroom door was kicke

xpensive bourbon flo

d in, breathing heav

p, a pair of powerful arms seized my wai

my head, his huge body pressing dow

tore from deep

ainst my neck, his clumsy lips pressing toward my co

shirt, fingers digging into th

ruck me like a sla

this was Br

amed, thrashing beneath him. "Lo

ng only made hi

h, desperate force, tried t

is crushing weight nearly smothering

terly still. It had never occurred to

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Five Million Dollars To Erase You
Five Million Dollars To Erase You
“The year I turned eight, my parents were killed in a car crash, and seventeen-year-old Channing took me in and raised me with everything he had for ten full years. But from the moment I confessed my feelings to him at eighteen, the look in his eyes held nothing but undisguised disgust. To make me give up once and for all, he brought home his socialite bride, Brenda, and handed her my unpublished paintings. Overnight, I became a shameless plagiarist, condemned by the entire internet. When I called him through tears, demanding to know why he had stolen my artwork, his voice was ice-cold. "Brenda needs a weighty centerpiece for her show. She's my wife - you owe her your help." At last I understood completely: to preserve his own name and standing, he was willing to destroy my future. On the morning of his wedding, I left a five-million-dollar check on the table and boarded a flight to London. Channing - from this day on, we owe each other nothing.”