Too Late To Beg: My Suffocated Heart

I sold my late mother's only estate and starved myself working three grueling jobs just to pay off my fiancé's massive gambling debts to the Syndicate.

But when our car was stuck at a scorching, hundred-degree highway checkpoint, Julian gave the last bottle of cold water to his delicate mistress, Chloe.

When I gasped for air and begged him to turn up the AC because of my severe asthma, he simply pulled the keys from the ignition and locked the doors from the outside.

"Chloe can't stand the heat," he said coldly through the glass. "You can stay in there and reflect on your attitude."