The day my family went bankrupt, I was sold. Sent to the Hawthorne estate to settle a debt. And it was Caleb Hawthorne, the youngest son with a penchant for serpents, who claimed me. Every night, he’d bring one of his cold, slithering pets into my room. He’d let it coil around my ankle, ignoring my tears and pleas to take it away. Beyond that, however, my life was a gilded dream. I was admired, envied, and showered with gifts. But then, another girl arrived at the Hawthorne estate, another debt to be paid. Because she was afraid of snakes, Caleb killed his favorite pet without a second thought. Staring at the pool of blood on the floor, I knew. His little songbird was about to be replaced. Coincidentally, my three-year term was up. And so, cradling a barely-there bump, I slipped away from the Hawthorne estate, and from him. 1 To be honest, I was happy when I heard the family was bankrupt. My father had eight daughters. I was the eighth. All seven of my older sisters had been married off in strategic alliances, their partners chosen not by them, but by our father. Some were wed to divorced magnates with children, others to men thirty years their senior. Each of my sisters was as beautiful as a flower in bloom, and every single one of them was miserable. My father had arranged a match for me, too. My intended was a horrifying cocktail of all my brothers-in-law's worst traits: old, ugly, divorced, and with a kid in tow. I only caught a glimpse of him from a distance, and the sight was enough to make me gag. Marrying him, I thought, would be a death sentence by starvation. I’d never be able to eat again, not with that face across the table. When my father heard I refused, he had me strung up and whipped, then locked away. He’d dealt with rebellious daughters before; he had a well-practiced method. Just as I was sinking into despair, his company hit the rocks. And the cherry on top? Not a single one of his wealthy, powerful sons-in-law lifted a finger to help. My father was finally, gloriously, bankrupt. I practically sent a thank-you card to the universe. I thought I’d escaped my fate, that the threat of a forced marriage was gone forever. I should have known my father’s shamelessness knew no bounds. If he couldn’t marry me off, he’d sell me off. 2 Stepping into the Hawthorne mansion, I felt like a lamb to the slaughter. My father had whispered his plan to me: “The Hawthornes have three sons. Just get one of them to take an interest in you.” If none of them did, I’d be passed along to the next creditor on his list. By then, I had no illusions left about love or marriage. I figured it was better to be in the hands of one man than passed around like a party favor. As long as the Hawthorne sons weren't like my former fiancé—fifty-six years old, a hundred and sixty kilos, and a hundred and sixty centimeters tall—I could live with it. But the Hawthornes were a different breed. Mr. Hawthorne, the patriarch, rejected my father’s offer with righteous indignation. "We are a respectable family. Don't try to pull these sordid tricks with us." And just like that, my father and I were unceremoniously thrown out. As we stood on the curb, he was already muttering a list of other names—the Jacksons, the Williamses, the Browns… Suddenly, a low whistle cut through the air. A man appeared before me. A sharp jawline, high-arched brows, and a mess of dark hair falling over his forehead. The legs in those black joggers seemed to go on longer than my life expectancy. The moment our eyes met, a single thought flashed through my mind: This must be my cosmic reward for having to look at so many ugly men. But then my gaze sharpened, and my pupils constricted. Coiled around his arm was a silver snake. Not a toy. A real, living snake, as thick as a baby’s arm. Its black, beady eyes were fixed on me, its forked tongue flicking the air. I’ve been terrified of cold-blooded creatures my entire life. A chill shot up my spine, making my scalp tingle. Just as I was about to stumble backward, I heard my father’s voice, dripping with deference. “Mr. Caleb.” I knew of Caleb Hawthorne, the third and youngest son. In a family known for its rigid discipline, he was the wild card. Reckless and untamed since childhood, his only known passion was for his collection of snakes. He had no women in his life, only serpents. Yet, his grandfather doted on him, entrusting him with a significant portion of the family empire. Caleb ignored my father. He just lifted his chin in my direction, his voice a lazy drawl. “You scared of snakes?” Terrified. Mortally terrified. But I fought the urge to retreat, forcing a harmless, innocent smile onto my face. “Not at all.” A smirk played on his lips. He didn't seem to believe me. Then, he raised his arm, extending the snake toward me. “Then pet him.” 3 Every cell in my body screamed in protest, but I couldn’t afford to defy Caleb Hawthorne. Compared to the other repulsive options, this handsome, young man was a godsend. Gritting my teeth, I cautiously reached out my hand. The silver snake stretched its head forward, its cold scales making unexpected contact with my palm. It was cool, smooth, and utterly horrifying. Oh God, I want to cry. This is horrible. But I kept my smile plastered on my face, looked Caleb in the eye, and forced out a lie. “Wow… the… the texture. It’s… exquisite.” The words had barely left my mouth when the snake, for reasons unknown, suddenly lunged, its mouth wide open as if to bite me. I shrieked, my hand jerking back. I couldn't stop myself from stumbling three steps away. My lie was exposed in the most blatant way possible. I braced myself for Caleb’s mockery, but he just watched me with an amused, knowing look. “What’s your name?” “Chloe. Chloe Bell.” “You want to be with me?” “Huh?” My eyes went wide with shock. By the time I’d processed his question, my father and Caleb had already struck a deal. He was handing me over to Caleb for three years to settle a thirty-million-dollar debt. It was a terrible bargain for my father, but a miraculous one for me. And surprisingly, Caleb agreed. He gave a nonchalant nod. “Sure. Deal.” 4 That same evening, I was moved into Caleb’s private villa. He came into my room after his shower, wearing a white, V-neck silk pajama top that left a wide expanse of his chest bare. His dark hair was still damp, and droplets of water traced paths down his tanned skin, disappearing beneath the hem of his shirt. I pressed myself against the wall, my lips pursed nervously. “What’s this? Standing in the corner for punishment?” he scoffed, grabbing a towel from his shoulder to dry his hair. “If you’re not comfortable sleeping in my bed, you can pick another room. There are sixteen of them. Take your pick.” My eyes lit up instantly. I couldn't believe how considerate he was. As I was about to nod, a playful smirk curled his lips. “Of course, the other fifteen are all snake habitats. Each with anywhere from five to twenty of them. So, you might want to think carefully about your choice.” I froze, the words catching in my throat. “N-no, that’s okay. This room… this room is just fine.” He closed the door, leaving the two of us alone in our pajamas. Even though Caleb was undeniably attractive, and I knew what was expected of a girl in my position, I was still terrified. My entire knowledge of sex came from romance novels; I had zero real-world experience. Caleb pulled back the covers and slid into bed, patting the empty space beside him. “You coming over here on your own, or do I have to carry you?” I hesitated for a moment before slowly inching my way to the edge of the bed. The rumors all said that the infamous Caleb Hawthorne only loved his snakes and had no interest in women. I didn’t exactly look like a snake, so he probably wouldn’t be interested in me, right? With that thought, I cautiously slipped under the covers, leaving enough space between us for three more people. Caleb shot me a look loaded with meaning. Then, as if suddenly feeling warm, he lifted the hem of his shirt to fan himself, revealing a perfectly sculpted set of eight-pack abs. I glanced away immediately, my heart hammering. “Is the AC too high?” I asked, my voice small. “I can turn it down if you want.” Caleb didn’t answer. He just stared at me, his throat working as he swallowed, as if he were thirsty. I tried again, trying to be helpful. “Do you need me to get you some water?” His expression was a complex mix of emotions. Suddenly, he wasn’t thirsty anymore. He reached over, switched off the lamp, and turned his back to me to sleep. I breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed the rumors were true. He really wasn’t interested in women. He probably only took me in because he felt sorry for me, seeing my own father sell me off. I silently congratulated myself for landing with a good person who was just cold on the outside, and let myself drift off to sleep. Just as I was slipping into a deep slumber, a body pressed against me from behind. It was scorching hot. His voice was husky, but his words were sharp and to the point. “You want to do this?” 5 I take back everything I thought. Caleb Hawthorne was not a good person. He was a wicked, terrible man. I was too shy to refuse him, so he took my silence as an invitation, pressing forward until my resistance crumbled and I yielded. But that wasn't the worst of it. He was also a pervert. What kind of decent person brings a snake into the bedroom during that? He brought one in, a twisted game of his. The snake’s forked tongue licked at my ankle, its cold scales slithering up my calf as Caleb’s hot breath tickled my ear, his teeth nibbling my earlobe. One hot, one cold, a combination designed to drive me mad. The first year with Caleb was a daily countdown, me scratching marks on the wall, waiting for the day I could escape him and his detestable snakes. By the second year, I discovered that darkness is contagious. After spending so long with a deviant, I’d become a little deviant myself. I was getting addicted to the feeling. By the third year, I started to think that maybe, just maybe, being with Caleb wasn’t so bad after all. He was loyal. Apart from me, there were no other women. He granted my every wish, showering me with the finest things money could buy. I had diamonds the size of pigeon eggs, pounds of gold bars, and a walk-in closet overflowing with designer bags. Everyone knew how much Caleb Hawthorne valued me. They saw me as the future Mrs. Hawthorne. Even my father, when he saw me, would bow and scrape, his old arrogance gone. I was living a life of luxury and praise. And I believed Caleb loved me. In those moments of passion, when he’d tremble and whisper my name, his eyes reflected only me. So when the three-year contract ended, he didn’t mention it, and neither did I. The day I found out I was pregnant, I was thrilled. I couldn’t wait to share the news with him. But as fate would have it, that was the first night in three years that Caleb didn’t come home. The next day, I found out why. The Hawthornes had taken in a new girl to settle another debt. 6 When I went looking for Caleb, he was at the main family estate. The butler told me the new girl’s name was Lily Song. She was stunningly beautiful, a delicate, innocent flower. She was supposed to be given to the Hawthornes, but the young master of the Blackwood family had also taken a liking to her. So Caleb and Mason Blackwood had fought over her. The winner would get the girl. Caleb had won. But as he approached Lily, the snake he had with him that day grew agitated and slithered onto her. It wrapped itself around her neck, its forked tongue flicking out, brushing against her cheek as it moved. The poor girl had never seen anything like it. Her eyes filled with tears, and she started to sob in terror. By the time I arrived, the snake was already dead. Its head was severed from its body, a dark pool of blood spreading around it on the floor. I froze. Caleb loved his snakes. He treated them like his children, giving each one a name. He cherished them, never letting anyone else touch them. Someone had once offered him two million dollars for one of his snakes, and he’d refused. After spending so much time around those cold, silent creatures, even I had developed a strange affection for them. I never imagined Caleb would ever kill one of his snakes. Especially not to soothe a crying girl. I pressed my lips together and looked toward the living room of the estate. Caleb was inside, leaning casually against a window, arms crossed, a lazy smile on his lips as he chatted with Lily. She looked up at him, a fragile figure with long hair dancing in the breeze. For a fleeting moment, she looked just like I did three years ago. I was standing right at the entrance. If Caleb had just turned his head, he would have seen me. But he was too engrossed, his gaze never wavering from her. I suddenly remembered how distant Caleb had been these past two months. He had incredible stamina; in the past, he could go for hours without tiring, three or four times a night being the norm. But lately, he’d been perfunctory, finishing after just one or two rounds. The signs of his boredom had been there all along. But then again, what did I expect? A man of his status and background wasn't going to tie his heart to one woman. The fact that he’d stayed with me for three years was a testament to my own charm, I suppose. I looked down at my still-flat stomach. I’d been so excited to tell him about our baby. Now, it seemed, there was no point. I turned away without a second glance and rushed back to the villa. Breaking up with Caleb was one thing, but the gifts he’d given me were mine. I was taking every last one. I immediately contacted a broker to sell the gold and began listing the bags and jewelry online. In about a week, my bank account would have a cool nine-figure balance. Thinking about it, I collapsed onto the bed, a wave of relief washing over me. I just had to get through this week. The door opened, and the bed dipped beside me. A familiar arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me into Caleb’s embrace. I stiffened. "What are you doing back?" Shouldn't he be with Lily tonight? Caleb propped himself up on one arm, his other hand already unbuttoning his shirt. "This is my house. Where else would I be?" With that, he captured my chin, his lips descending on mine, stealing the air from my lungs. Remembering what I’d seen at the estate, I turned my head away, making up an excuse. "Don't. You're all sweaty today. You feel gross." "So demanding," he chuckled, playfully tapping my nose. He shrugged off his shirt, revealing his lean, muscular torso. "Fine. I'll go shower." He took two steps toward the bathroom, then paused. As if remembering something, he turned back, scooped me up into his arms, and declared, "We'll shower together." What? The bathroom was steamy, the sound of dripping water echoing off the tiles. Caleb's gaze landed on me, his eyes darkening with desire. His kisses were a relentless storm, leaving me breathless and clinging to him just to stay upright. But then, to my surprise, just as we reached the point of no return, Caleb let me go. "Be a good girl and go out first, kitten. I'll join you after I'm done." I was stunned for a moment, but then understanding dawned. A man's energy is finite. Now that he had a new favorite, he couldn't very well waste it on his old one. Out with the old, in with the new. Perhaps it was the exhaustion of the day, but a dull ache began to throb in my lower abdomen. I pulled out my phone and started searching for clinics, planning to schedule an abortion for as soon as I left town. A long time passed, and Caleb still hadn’t come out of the bathroom. I had no idea what he was doing in there. I was so tired I drifted off to sleep, my phone still clutched in my hand, its screen lit up. I was shaken awake by Caleb. He had pulled me into his arms and was staring at me with a knowing, half-smiling expression that made my stomach clench with guilt. "W-what is it?" He tilted his head, studying me. "Kitten, is there something you want to tell me?" I was completely baffled. "No?" "Really?" His fingertips trailed down from my shoulder, coming to rest on my lower stomach, where they drew a slow, deliberate circle. My eyes flickered to my phone on the nightstand, and a terrible premonition washed over me. Did he see my search history? Does he know? I looked at him, stammering, his expression unreadable. In that moment, my mind raced, desperately trying to invent a plausible excuse for my clinic research. "I... I was just..." "Are you short on cash?" he asked suddenly. My words died in my throat. I stared at him, confused. "The guy from the designer resale shop just called. Said you're trying to sell off all the bags I gave you." "Explain," he said, his voice soft but firm. "Why are you selling everything?" Oh, it's about that. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding and quickly spun a lie. "They're all last season's styles. They're just taking up space. I figured I might as well sell them." Caleb was sharp. He honed in on the key point. "So the old bags are out of season. Then we'll buy new ones." "I'll have my assistant buy every new design from this season's collection tomorrow. You can pick whatever you like." Just as I was about to relax, Caleb added casually, "Kitten, why do you keep glancing at your phone when you talk to me? Is there some dark secret in there?" "Let me see?" My blood ran cold. I immediately tore my gaze from the phone and threw my arms around his neck, nuzzling the small mole by his nose. I softened my voice, making it sweet and seductive. "What secrets could I possibly have from you?" The silver snake, which had been draped over his shoulder, chose that moment to flick its tail around my waist, pulling me flush against his hard abdomen. He let out a contented hum. "Relax. I'm not going to check your phone. I trust you that much." He added, "And I know you wouldn't dare do anything to cross me." I nodded vigorously. He was right. Quietly skipping town hardly counted as crossing him, did it? Just one more week, and I would be saying goodbye to Caleb Hawthorne forever. But I had severely underestimated how perceptive the Hawthornes could be. 7 It was the old Mr. Hawthorne's birthday, and Caleb had to return to the family estate for the celebration. In previous years, it was always a private family affair, and I was never invited. But this was his grandfather's eightieth, a grand banquet, and Caleb insisted I accompany him. An event like this required a formal gown. Caleb had bought me many, but they were inconvenient for a quick getaway, so I'd already sold them at a discount on the secondhand market. Only one remained—a wine-red dress that hadn't found a buyer. It was from a time when I was much thinner, and the waist was incredibly tight. Squeezing into it was a struggle, and it made my lower abdomen bulge slightly. I consciously sucked in my stomach, terrified Caleb would notice. Everything was going fine until the toasts. A group of children, roughhousing, came running in our direction, on a direct collision course with my belly. I instinctively took a step back, forgetting to hold my breath. Caleb's little niece ran right up to me, placing her small hand on my stomach. "Auntie Chloe," she asked in her sweet, childish voice, "your tummy used to be flat. Why is it poofy now?" Caleb's hand, holding his wine glass, froze. His gaze dropped to my stomach. It was too late to suck it in now; it would be too obvious. I bent down slightly and explained to the little girl, "Because the food at the party is so delicious, Auntie ate a lot and got a food baby." But the little girl shook her head, her expression serious. "No, it's not." "Auntie, you have a baby in your tummy." A hush fell over the nearby tables. All eyes turned to us. As if to make sure everyone heard, her voice rose to a near-shout. "It's true! I'm not lying! There's a baby moving in Auntie's tummy! It just kicked my hand!" Panic flared in my chest, but I kept a pleasant smile on my face. "There's no baby in Auntie's tummy," I cooed. "When you eat a lot of food, your tummy has to work to digest it. Of course it's going to move around." The little girl was about to argue further, but thankfully her mother swooped in and whisked her away. The excuse was plausible enough. I thought I'd managed to smooth things over, but when I turned back, I found Caleb studying me with a thoughtful, penetrating gaze. "Kitten, if I remember correctly, you haven't had your period in three months, have you?" My funds were secured. I was leaving tomorrow. I couldn't let things fall apart now. I forced myself to remain calm, nodding nonchalantly. "That's right. You know my cycle has always been irregular." Fearing another question would expose everything, I faked a small hiccup. "Wow, I'm so full. I need to go for a walk to digest." Caleb couldn't join me. A line of people was waiting to toast him, and he had to work the room. I wandered alone in the estate's sprawling gardens. As I walked, my eyes were drawn to a lit window on the third floor of the main house. It was a wing that had always been empty before, but tonight it was brightly illuminated. Two maids carrying trays of food were walking and chatting. "Mr. Caleb is so attentive to that Miss Song. He's worried she'll be hungry, so he's having all her favorite dishes sent up." "And for someone as busy as him, he even remembered she's allergic to seafood. He specifically told the kitchen not to use any." "With the new girl here, I guess Miss Bell is on her way out, huh?" "Probably. That Song girl is only nineteen, a blank slate, easy to mold. Miss Bell is twenty-two now. Mr. Caleb has had her for years; he must be bored by now." I stood hidden behind a large sycamore tree. They didn't see me as they continued their conversation, heading towards the third floor. I sniffled, a strange sense of melancholy washing over me. Caleb didn't even try to hide his affections. Even the staff could see he had a new girl in his heart. A voice cut through the silence from behind me. "Miss Bell. Since Caleb has a new favorite, why don't you consider coming with me?"
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