Chapter 3 Chapter 3

Fagan stood rigidly by the door. He was still wearing the light blue shirt I had prepared for him that morning. But now it looked wrinkled, its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his gray suit was nowhere to be seen. The man looked disheveled.

With sharp, cold eyes, he walked toward me.

I still didn’t move. I stared at that handsome face with a flat expression. Fagan had never looked at me this sharply and coldly before.

“Where have you been?” His voice sounded heavy.

“You met that woman?” he added, his tone as cold as his gaze.

“Meizura, answer me!! Did you meet that woman?” he snapped, making me flinch.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I forced myself not to be provoked.

“Yes. I met her,” I answered calmly.

But Fagan was different. His gaze grew sharper. Both of his hands clenched tightly.

“Didn’t I forbid you? How dare you disobey me!!” he growled through gritted teeth.

In two years of marriage, Fagan had rarely been angry. In front of me, he was always patient and gentle. Even when I annoyed him, he never yelled at me.

I lifted my chin and looked at him sharply.

“Because you forbade me, I became curious. Could it be that there’s a big secret you’ve been hiding from me?”

Those black eyes narrowed—perhaps in surprise at my reaction. The wife who used to be obedient and gentle was now cold and cynical.

“You?” He let out a short laugh.

“Since when did you become this bold? Fix the way you address me!” he shouted.

“What do you want me to call you? Babe? Hubby? Or a lying bastard?”

Fagan froze. His brow furrowed. Shock flickered across his face. Slowly, his sharp gaze softened.

“Who are you calling a lying bastard?” he asked.

“Someone who turned marriage into a tool for revenge.”

“Huh?” Fagan’s face instantly turned pale—panicked and confused.

“What did she tell you?”

“What are you hiding?” I shot back.

“Don’t test me, Zura! Tell me—what did that woman say to you?” Fagan pressed, grabbing my hand.

“Let go!” I slapped his hand away roughly. Suddenly, I felt disgusted by his touch.

“Megan asked me to come for her confession. Do you also want to confess your sins to me? Say it now—maybe I can still forgive you,” I said, staring at him sharply.

Fagan looked nervous.

“Don’t joke around. I have no sins against you.”

I let out a bitter laugh.

“No sins?” My patience was gone.

Bang—

I slammed the table, stood up, and shoved his body hard, making him stumble.

Fagan was shocked. He looked at me in disbelief.

“No sins, you say?” I grabbed a glass from the dining table and smashed it down hard.

Crash—

Like my heart, the glass shattered into pieces.

Fagan stood frozen.

“So, in your opinion, you’ve done nothing wrong to me?” I asked, tilting my head as I stared at him.

“Y-you…?” Fagan suddenly stammered.

“You and your family deceived me. You made me your wife just to take revenge on your own brother, didn’t you?”

“What did I ever do wrong? Why did I have to get trapped in your conflict?!” I shouted.

Fagan was dumbfounded, his eyes wide, his body stiff.

“At that time, Megan was pregnant with Ardiaz’s child, but out of shame your family forced her to have an abortion. Cruel!” I sneered.

He remained silent.

“And then, to cover up that disgrace, you sacrificed me. Truly shameless!” my mockery grew harsher.

Slap—

That large hand struck my right cheek. My body was thrown to the floor, crashing onto the cold surface. Numbness and pain spread across my face.

For the first time, the man who bore the title of my husband slapped me.

“Ssst…” I hissed. Not only my face—my palm and knee also hurt, burning sharply. They were bleeding.

It turned out I had fallen onto the shards of the glass I had thrown earlier.

“Don’t speak carelessly if you don’t know the truth!” Fagan’s voice sounded cold and trembling.

I looked up. He stared at me sharply.

“Reflect on your mistake,” he concluded, then turned and left—leaving me wounded. Wounded in both heart and body.

For several minutes, I stayed still, absorbing the pain. Was this real?

Staggering, I got up.

“Ishh…” I hissed, holding back the pain. Fresh blood flowed heavily from my palm and knee.

Limping, I went upstairs to my bedroom to clean myself. After showering, I put away the shirt and pants I had worn earlier. There were bloodstains on them—perhaps they would be useful later.

After that, I treated my wounds myself, then lay down on the bed. I didn’t know how long I slept—until a caress accompanied by soft kisses disturbed me.

It felt like a hard, solid body was pressing down on me. Slowly, I opened my eyes.

“What are you doing?!” I screamed, trying to push away the man who was pinning me down and kissing me.

“Let go!!”