My $70k Nurse Trap - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
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I had no choice but to surrender. Vincent was relentless—an insatiable machine that worked me over all night long.
By noon the next day, I finally managed to pry my eyes open, my body weak and utterly spent. The bruises marking my skin were cruel souvenirs of what had happened.
As much as I hated to admit it, there was one undeniable truth: Vincent was far better in bed than my husband.
My first instinct was to call the cops. But then reality hit me—why I'd come here in the first place, the Beverly Hills mansion Vincent had dangled in front of me. If I reported him, I'd walk away with nothing.
I shot him a cold glare. He just smirked, striding over to grab my chest roughly before tossing a bank card onto my face.
"$100,000. Call it compensation for last night." His tongue flicked against my cheek, making my skin crawl. "Want more? Come back tomorrow in that pink nurse uniform."
I didn't refuse the money. I'd earned it with my body—no reason to pretend otherwise.
That afternoon, I went on a wild shopping spree at the city's most exclusive mall. I bought everything I'd ever denied myself, burning through every last cent until the $100,000 was gone.
For the first time, I understood the rush of wealth—how it could make you feel untouchable.
Just as I was debating whether to go back to Vincent the next day, Ethan walked in.
His face darkened at the sight of designer bags littering the living room. "Explain," he demanded, voice like ice. "Where the hell did all this come from?"
Guilt twisted in my gut. I couldn't tell him Vincent had raped me—or that Margaret had locked the door behind them.
"Margaret bought them for me," I lied, avoiding his eyes. The shame of him seeing me as some cheap whore was too much.
But Ethan's expression only grew darker. He pulled out his phone and played a recording—my moans, Vincent's heavy breathing.
My world shattered.
"Luna Valentine!" His voice was raw with fury, veins bulging at his temples. "You gold-digging slut. How could you spread your legs for him so fast?"
Trembling, I curled into the couch, terrified.
"No, Ethan, please! Vincent wasn't hurt—it was all a setup! He and Margaret tricked me! I didn't—I didn't want this!"
My voice died to a whisper. I wasn't even convincing myself.
"Still lying?" He scoffed. "Fine. If Margaret set you up, let's call her right now."
He dialed. Margaret's voice came through the speaker. "Ethan?"
Before I could speak, he snapped, "Did you know Vincent raped Luna?"
"What? That's impossible! I wasn't even home yesterday!"
Of course she lied. She'd been the one to lock the damn door.
Ethan hung up, his face stone-cold. After a long silence, he said, "I can't accept my wife being another man's plaything. Get out. We're filing for divorce tomorrow."
In that moment, everything collapsed. Stumbling, I was shoved out of the house—homeless, humiliated, destroyed.
Life was cruel. One second, I was drowning in luxury. The next, I was nothing but a discarded stray.
This city had no place for me anymore. And as I stood outside Vincent's mansion that night, one thought burned in my mind—
I hated them. Both of them. More than anything.
By noon the next day, I finally managed to pry my eyes open, my body weak and utterly spent. The bruises marking my skin were cruel souvenirs of what had happened.
As much as I hated to admit it, there was one undeniable truth: Vincent was far better in bed than my husband.
My first instinct was to call the cops. But then reality hit me—why I'd come here in the first place, the Beverly Hills mansion Vincent had dangled in front of me. If I reported him, I'd walk away with nothing.
I shot him a cold glare. He just smirked, striding over to grab my chest roughly before tossing a bank card onto my face.
"$100,000. Call it compensation for last night." His tongue flicked against my cheek, making my skin crawl. "Want more? Come back tomorrow in that pink nurse uniform."
I didn't refuse the money. I'd earned it with my body—no reason to pretend otherwise.
That afternoon, I went on a wild shopping spree at the city's most exclusive mall. I bought everything I'd ever denied myself, burning through every last cent until the $100,000 was gone.
For the first time, I understood the rush of wealth—how it could make you feel untouchable.
Just as I was debating whether to go back to Vincent the next day, Ethan walked in.
His face darkened at the sight of designer bags littering the living room. "Explain," he demanded, voice like ice. "Where the hell did all this come from?"
Guilt twisted in my gut. I couldn't tell him Vincent had raped me—or that Margaret had locked the door behind them.
"Margaret bought them for me," I lied, avoiding his eyes. The shame of him seeing me as some cheap whore was too much.
But Ethan's expression only grew darker. He pulled out his phone and played a recording—my moans, Vincent's heavy breathing.
My world shattered.
"Luna Valentine!" His voice was raw with fury, veins bulging at his temples. "You gold-digging slut. How could you spread your legs for him so fast?"
Trembling, I curled into the couch, terrified.
"No, Ethan, please! Vincent wasn't hurt—it was all a setup! He and Margaret tricked me! I didn't—I didn't want this!"
My voice died to a whisper. I wasn't even convincing myself.
"Still lying?" He scoffed. "Fine. If Margaret set you up, let's call her right now."
He dialed. Margaret's voice came through the speaker. "Ethan?"
Before I could speak, he snapped, "Did you know Vincent raped Luna?"
"What? That's impossible! I wasn't even home yesterday!"
Of course she lied. She'd been the one to lock the damn door.
Ethan hung up, his face stone-cold. After a long silence, he said, "I can't accept my wife being another man's plaything. Get out. We're filing for divorce tomorrow."
In that moment, everything collapsed. Stumbling, I was shoved out of the house—homeless, humiliated, destroyed.
Life was cruel. One second, I was drowning in luxury. The next, I was nothing but a discarded stray.
This city had no place for me anymore. And as I stood outside Vincent's mansion that night, one thought burned in my mind—
I hated them. Both of them. More than anything.
End of My $70k Nurse Trap Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to My $70k Nurse Trap book page.