Delete My Love for You novel Chapter 1

“No need to look for volunteers, Mr. Nelson. I’ll do the experiment myself this time.”

As Charlotte Lawson spoke, Mr. Nelson beside her frowned in disapproval. “Implanting the super chip into your brain is irreversible. You created the chip, and you’re also Mrs. Harrington, wife of the CEO. Is this risk really worth it?”

Mrs. Harrington?

That title—once something she’d desperately hoped for—now felt like nothing but an ironic joke.

She held her ground. “This chip is the result of ten years’ work from the entire lab. A volunteer might not give it their all, but I’ve already made up my mind. Schedule the procedure for seven days from now.”

When Charlotte left the research center, her phone buzzed with a text from Darren Harrington: [Suite 88 at The Grand Oak Club. Be there in ten minutes.]

He was probably drunk again, expecting her, Mrs. Harrington, to clean up his mess—like always.

But when Charlotte arrived at the suite and the door swung open, a group of wealthy young men turned to her with barely contained amusement.

Her husband of three years, Darren, was not drunk at all.

He sat in the center of the leather sofa, his posture relaxed but commanding, impeccably dressed in a bespoke suit. Draped on his arm was Xena Lancaster, the college girl he’d been chasing all week.

“Right on time,” Darren said coolly, not even glancing up. Behind Charlotte, the heavy door thudded shut, his bodyguards blocking any escape.

She was ushered toward the sofa, forced to stand in front of Darren as every eye in the room watched.

His sharply cut features and piercing gaze swept over her—a look of disdain flickering across his face.

“I called you here to clean Xena’s shoes,” Darren said, tightening his hold around the girl. “If she’s smiling when you’re done, we’ll forget the matter of the tie.”

The tie?

Charlotte froze for a moment. Yesterday, while hand-washing laundry, she’d accidentally ruined the tie Xena had given him. Darren had already punished her, forcing her to kneel on the balcony for over five hours.

Apparently, he still wasn’t done. Now he wanted her to polish his canary’s shoes in front of everyone?

With all eyes fixed on her, Charlotte spoke up, her voice clear: “If you humiliate me in public, aren’t you just humiliating yourself?”

He pressed a button on the remote.

Suddenly, the suite’s giant TV screen flickered to life—and began playing a slideshow of Charlotte’s most private photos.

Schoolgirl outfits, risqué costumes, silk and lace—all the revealing clothes she’d only ever worn for Darren. Every image was explicit.

Charlotte’s pupils contracted in shock. She felt as if her breath had stopped, as if invisible hands were choking her.

The screen was linked to every smart TV in the city; in just an instant, her private photos had been broadcast everywhere.

The room erupted.

“So Mrs. Harrington’s wild side finally comes out! Darren, you lucky bastard!”

“Got anything even spicier, Darren?”