Promised Two Months Served Six Years

It was Serena Wells who came to me, begging me to take the fall for her childhood best friend after his drunk driving accident.

“Dean’s father saved my life, Beck. Can’t you just endure this for me? When you get out, we’ll get married.”

I nodded, tears blurring my vision. Two months, she’d promised.

When I got inside, I learned the sentence was six years.

I tried to recant my confession, but all I earned was a beating.

“Someone outside is keeping a tight lid on you. Who do you think you are, a filthy criminal daring to dream about someone like Miss Wells!”

My eyes were bloodshot from the blows. The last thing I saw before I passed out was the prison TV, where Serena was walking arm-in-arm with her childhood friend, announcing their engagement.

My heart turned to ash. After six years of torture where every day felt like a lifetime, I was finally released.

But as I quietly boarded a train with my worn suitcase, Serena’s assistant stood respectfully in front of me.

“Mr. Miller, Ms. Wells wants to see you.”

1

I sat in the car, watching the city rush backward.

Six years had changed Coronado Bay significantly.

The car passed a towering skyscraper. A news story was playing on a massive billboard: “Coronado Bay Heiress Serena Wells Spends Nine Figures on a Watch for New Boyfriend; Couple Seen Entering Mansion.”

Nine figures. I slowly counted the zeroes.

I looked down at the simple woven bracelet she’d given me six years ago. It had cost maybe two dollars, and now the surface was dull and rough.

I gently unclasped it and tossed it out the open window.

In the blink of an eye, the car pulled up to a sprawling estate.

Lost in thought, I took the phone the assistant handed me.

Serena’s light, pleasant voice drifted through. “Beck, something came up. Wait for me at the house for a bit.”

I listened silently, and only after three seconds of her pause did I manage a slow, muffled grunt of agreement.

Serena went quiet for a moment, sounding slightly confused.

I had grown silent over the past six years, no longer the person who used to chatter on endlessly to her.

After the call ended, I sat in the villa, waiting.

The cleaning staff behind me occasionally glanced my way, whispering.

“Ms. Wells brought another one home. This one is too thin. Not very good-looking.”

“I think he came straight from prison.”

“Oh, God, how unlucky. Ms. Wells’s taste is getting so strange. At least before it was actors, models, or rich kids. This one is just…”

They sighed, shaking their heads, feeling Serena was settling.

I felt nothing, except for the urge to keep checking my wrist for a non-existent watch.

Serena’s promised “a bit” had stretched into seven hours.

I hadn’t eaten since leaving the facility. The air conditioning was set too cold, and I was simultaneously freezing and famished.

I finally asked the butler for any news of Serena, but after asking twice, he glared at me with clear impatience. He treated me like just another one of Serena’s hangers-on.

“Ms. Wells is entertaining Mr. Palmer. They’re watching fireworks from a yacht right now. She doesn’t have time for you.”

Dean Palmer. His name flashed instantly through my mind.

Six years ago, he’d drunk-driven and critically injured two pedestrians.

I took his place.

I went from being Beckett Miller, the beloved son of a respectable family, to a universally condemned inmate.

He, meanwhile, had been elevated to Mr. Palmer, adored by Serena, living a life of utter privilege.

But I didn’t care anymore.

My family’s collapse, my parents’ suicide—nothing could stir a ripple inside me now.

Except for the two things Serena had promised before I went in: marrying me, and buying back my family’s heirloom bracelet.

Now, I no longer wanted the marriage. My only wish was to retrieve the heirloom.

My thoughts snapped back. The wrenching pain in my stomach grew sharper. I clutched my abdomen and walked to the kitchen.

As I reached to prepare something, a maid unceremoniously slapped my hand away.

“Don’t touch anything. Ms. Wells and Mr. Palmer don’t like outsiders eating here.”

“You’ll have to wait.”

She finished with an eye-roll and walked away.

After three more hours of waiting, Serena still hadn’t returned.

I lay on the sofa. My vision turned black. I passed out completely.

2

When I woke up, I was in bed with an IV drip in my arm.

Serena was facing away from me, angrily scolding the staff.

“Are you all idiots? The man is starving and you couldn’t manage to make him some food?”

“One more time, and you’re all gone!”

Dean Palmer heard the commotion and walked in. “Serena, don’t be mad. Come out and have some tea.”

He pulled her out of the room.

The maids looked at each other, their faces pale.

“That scared me. Ms. Wells hasn’t been that angry in a long time.”

“It’s his fault! Putting on an act to make us look bad!”

“Don’t get cocky. He’ll be kicked out in two months anyway.”

The women hurried away.

I pulled out the needle and slowly walked out.

The first person to see me was one of Serena’s friends.

She clearly didn’t know who I was, only saying with surprise:

“Serena, is this the new housekeeper? Why is he coming out of your room?”

Serena spun around, and when her eyes met mine, her pupils visibly flinched.

Unseen for six years, she was still poised and elegant.

I, however, looked like a traveler facing his final days, my expression weary and aged.

Dean let out a small, smug chuckle and strode over, puffing out his chest.

He addressed the woman in the silk dress like the master of the house:

“Layla, this is… a distant cousin of Serena’s from out of state. Not a housekeeper.”

I looked at Serena. She watched me silently, offering no denial.

She must have decided that the current me was too much of an embarrassment to acknowledge openly.

It made sense. I was now an ex-con. Our engagement had been six years ago—history.

As the silence stretched, the chef announced that dinner was ready.

We sat down. They chatted about recent events, which I didn’t understand at all. I just kept my head down, focusing on my food.

But suddenly, Layla exclaimed:

“Oh, right, Serena! That boyfriend of yours in prison must be out by now.”

“You never seemed that into him anyway. Just give him some cash to go away. Make sure he doesn’t cling to you.”

In an instant, the previously lively dinner table fell silent.

Dean glanced at me, a flash of mockery in his eyes.

Serena’s face remained composed, but she didn’t answer.

Layla sensed the shift and started to apologize, but I interrupted her with a small, calm smile. “He won’t.”

Layla turned to me, curious, and asked why.

I slowly swallowed my rice, but before I could open my mouth, Serena cut in sharply.

“Enough. Just eat.”

She stared fixedly at me, her beautiful eyes churning with an unreadable depth.

I remained still, lowering my gaze to my plate.

After dinner, Layla noticed the grand piano in the living room on her way out. “That’s a gorgeous piano. Who is it for?”

Dean swaggered over and began to play a clumsy, elementary piece.

When he finished, he looked smugly at the appreciation in Layla’s eyes.

“I just started lessons, but my teacher says I’m a natural. Better than some people who’ve been playing for ten years.”

He glanced at me, clearly aiming the comment.

I had studied piano, violin, and guitar since childhood, with the piano being my strongest. I even performed at a famous concert hall in my twenties.

Dean had always been fiercely jealous, claiming he’d be even better if he’d had the money for lessons.

Now that I’d been locked up for six years, he assumed my skills had withered.

He grinned, facing me. “Beck, I hear you were quite the prodigy. Why don’t you show us what you’ve got?”

3

Serena’s brow furrowed, as if she wanted to stop me.

But my fingers were already on the keys.

The next second, a rich, rhythmic melody flowed out effortlessly. It was a level of mastery that made Dean’s beginner piece sound like mere noise.

A look of surprise flashed in both Serena’s and Layla’s eyes. When I finished, they both applauded immediately.

Dean’s face was green with rage, and he glared at me with hatred.

Layla moved closer, her tone earnest.

“Wow, you’re incredible. I have a concert-grade piano at my place. Want to come over and try it sometime?”

I opened my mouth, but before I could reply, Serena’s voice came out, cold and sudden. “It’s getting late. You should go. Dean can take you.”

Layla shot me a look of genuine disappointment. Dean looked annoyed but followed her out, glancing back at me repeatedly.

The vast living room was left to just Serena and me.

I pulled my shoulders tighter, shivering slightly. The air conditioning was high, but her face was colder than the air.

Serena suddenly grabbed my wrist. Her tone was ugly, almost cruel. “Beckett Miller, you’re out for one day and you’re already trolling for dates? Were you dying in there?”

I didn’t react. I just gave a weak, indifferent tug of my lips.

I was barely a man anymore, having lost nearly thirty pounds. The confident spark of my youth was gone.

Seeing my silence, she seemed startled. I used to love fighting with her. But now, looking at my face—a surface of dead water—a sharp, needle-like pang hit her heart.

Her voice softened immediately. “I didn’t mean that.”

“I will give you what you’re owed. Just not right now. Our marriage is still happening.”

The word “marriage” made her pause. She lowered her voice slightly. “What did you mean at dinner when you said ‘he won’t’?”

Serena fixed her eyes on my expression, clearly desperate to know what I’d meant.

I countered with my own question: “Where is the bracelet? My family’s heirloom.”

Serena froze, the light in her eyes flickering.

My heart seized up. My voice cracked. “Tell me. Where is the bracelet?”

She sighed in frustration. “Dean took it to wear. I forgot to get it back. I’ll call him now.”

The ringing sound of her phone cut through the air. I closed my burning eyelids and waited.

Suddenly, Serena looked at my wrist. “Where is the red string I gave you?”

“It broke.”

Serena flinched. Seeing my careless indifference, her heart tightened inexplicably.

Thirty minutes later, Dean rushed back, sweat dotting his forehead.

Serena’s eyes flashed with concern. She spoke with a hint of reproof. “Did you have to rush?”

Dean bit his lip. He spoke in a low, meek voice: “I was worried Beck would be mad at you.”

Serena stroked his head, a gesture that clearly meant thank you for your trouble.

Dean stuck out his tongue playfully, then turned and walked toward me, smiling.

“Beck, I was the one who pestered Serena for the cuff. You’re a bigger man, please don’t be mad at her.”

Dean was a master of passive aggression, instantly placing me on the high ground of being an unforgiving villain, while he played the role of the pitiable, compassionate friend.

But I was tired of his games. I simply held out my hand. “Give it to me.”

Dean nodded and handed me a small, ornate box.

My heart hammered. I quickly raised my hand to take it.

But the moment my fingers touched the box, he let it go. It tumbled to the floor.

I lunged to save it, but I was too late.

The open box showed the cuff, now broken in two.

4

Dean looked genuinely horrified, but as he leaned in close to my ear, his voice slithered out like a viper.

“If I can’t have it, you can’t either.”

Seeing the triumph in his eyes, my head exploded. I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face.

Dean crashed to the ground, his voice shaking with feigned terror.

“I’m sorry, Beck. You can hit me all you want.”

He reached out to gather the broken pieces of the bracelet.

Seeing his act, I felt a surge of pure fury. I reached to push him away, but in the next second, Serena’s hand clamped down hard on my wrist.

She shrieked. “Enough!”

A vein pulsed on her forehead. She looked enraged.

But when she met my desperate, tearful gaze, her voice finally softened.

“Don’t cry. I’ll buy you another one. Dean didn’t mean to.”

She placed a gentle hand on my head to comfort me, but every word she spoke was an excuse for Dean.

I clung tightly to the shattered jade pieces, my entire body shaking uncontrollably.

Blood streamed from my palm, dripping onto the floor, blooming into stinging red stains.

Serena’s eyes narrowed. She quickly pulled my hand away.

She stared at my bloody, lacerated palm. Just as she was about to explode at me, I saw black spots fill my vision. I crumpled to the floor.

I woke up feeling utterly exhausted, my head splitting.

My throat felt like I had swallowed razor blades, so I dragged my heavy body out to get some water.

As I reached the corner, I saw two figures standing in the dim hallway.

Dean’s voice was fretful, as if he hadn’t recovered from the conflict.

“Will Beck be upset if I sleep here?”

“I run this house.”

Serena’s voice was quiet but held an iron-fisted authority.

The feeling of being protected flooded Dean with satisfaction. He remembered the past again.

He sighed. “Serena, thank you. If you hadn’t come up with that ‘debt-of-honor’ excuse back then, I would have been the one rotting in prison for six years.”

Serena’s face stiffened. She let out a small sigh.

“I owe him for this, but making it up to him with the rest of my life is enough.”

Her tone was casual, with a hint of distant sadness. Dean’s vanity was instantly satisfied.

He wrapped his arms around Serena, leaning down for a passionate kiss.

Serena froze momentarily but didn’t pull away.

Watching their entwined forms, I felt as if I’d fallen into a frozen lake. My legs were so weak I could barely stand.

Serena had always claimed Dean’s father saved her life. She said a person must repay kindness, which was why I had willingly become the scapegoat.

In the end, it was all a convenient lie.

My heart rate spiked suddenly.

Through my shaky vision, Dean panted: “What if he finds out?”

Serena’s expression slightly hardened, then she slowly shook her head.

“He won’t find out. And even if he does, what can he do? Look at him now. I’m the best option he has left.”

“Besides, I won’t let him go.”

Dean’s fists clenched. Not hearing the answer he wanted, a flash of resentment crossed his eyes.

“Serena, I worry about you. He is totally unworthy of you now. People will mock you—”

“Stop.”

Before he could finish, Serena cut him off, her voice showing clear impatience. She distanced herself from him.

“Go to bed. I’m going to check if Beck is awake.”