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His Tender Lies Novel Cover

His Tender Lies

After sacrificing a kidney and her life savings for Francis Slade, Ms. Lane returns home to find her house occupied by his mistress, Whitney Jones. Despite her physical injuries and bleeding, Francis dismisses her pain as a desperate plea for sympathy. He demands she clean herself and prepare her own bed for Whitney's comfort. Faced with such cold indifference, she must decide if she will finally surrender her room and the man who never truly loved her to her smug rival.
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Chapter 3

Her words hit me like a bolt from the blue. Once again, it made my calm heart palpitate.

Francis had bought the toys for our unborn child a year ago.

He lied to me that his investment tanked and was in desperate need of capital. That time, just to make fast money, I gave up my stable job to go dancing and serving drinks in bars.

My body wasn't able to cope with the strain, and I ended up losing the child.

So Francis's affair with Whitney started from there?

"Scarlett, about the toys…"

"Enough, I'm tired."

For the first time, Francis wanted to apologize to me, but I knew it was pointless.

"I have something to do, I need to go out."

Francis did nothing to stop me. Again, it was because Whitney had made a request.

"Francis, can you help me get my underwear? I need to change."

Francis had barely reached out to me when he pulled back his arm and slammed the door shut behind me.

Maybe I should leave for good.

I clutched the bank card in the pocket of my coat and caught a taxi to the bar.

I wanted to withdraw all my wages for the month.

Despite the time, the parking lot at the bar was filled with expensive cars. This bar was a popular hangout spot for rich kids who loved to party all night.

I adjusted my coat and entered the bar.

A familiar voice from one of the private rooms caught my attention.

"It's boring without Frank here with us!"

That voice belonged to his buddy, Charles Langley.

"Frank must be spending the night with his girlfriend tonight. You know how clingy Whitney is."

I had no interest in the rest of their conversation until I heard my own name being mentioned.

"Hahaha, do you remember when that poor Scarlett started working here? I wonder how she'd feel if she knew the wine she served was for Frank and Whitney."

"Careful man, didn't he warn us not to talk about this in public?"

However, they started to get more excited as the conversation went on.

"Still, I think Frank's head over heels for Whitney. A few days ago, she asked if she could borrow a few of my men. I didn't expect she'd use them to beat up Scarlett. I was scared that Frank would get angry at me, but turns out he was more worried about Whitney."

So Francis had known about her plan all along? Even so, he stood on her side unwaveringly.

Who was I to him? A jester to laugh at?

The scene of me being attacked and insulted by those men kept repeating in my mind. My head hurt so much it felt like it was about to explode.

"Speaking of which, didn't he win our bet? Like he said, Scarlett's still unaware of his identity and even fell for him. Why are they still together? Don't tell me he really fell in love with her?"

A bet?

Those words hit me like an eighteen-wheeler truck. I cupped my hands tightly over my mouth as I instinctively tried to move away.

As I turned around, I knocked into a man's chest.

The familiar smell of his perfume already told me who that man was.

"What are you saying?!" Francis's voice boomed.

In an instant, the room went silent. It was the first time he hugged me on his own accord.

I slapped my hurting head a few times and wriggled out of his arms.

"Scarlett, it's not what you think."

I couldn't care less. I was on the brink of mental collapse, and I had to complete my task before my emotions got out of control.

I forced myself to head towards the office. At the door, I was greeted by a stranger's face.

"May I help you, miss?"

I came face-to-face with a man with a potbelly and a gaze that belonged to a sly fox.

"I need to get my salary in advance this month."

"Our policy doesn't allow employees to do that."

As he spoke, he had already placed his arm around my waist.

"I have an employment contract, you can look…"

The man couldn't care less what I said. His greasy face inched nearer to mine when he said, "Why don't you service me for a night? If you make me happy, I'll double the amount for you."

In the next second, Francis rushed over and knocked him to the ground with a single punch.

"How dare you touch my woman?"

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