Chapter 4 Chapter 4

My eyes widened. It was him—Fagan Alexander Zio Zafier.

The husband who had slapped me mercilessly not long ago.

Yet now, shamelessly, he was kissing me.

“Let go!!” I screamed, pushing him with all my strength. But that solid body didn’t budge. Fagan looked down at me with eyes clouded by desire.

“I’m sorry for being rough with you,” he whispered, gently stroking the cheek he had slapped earlier.

Then, filled with lust, he kissed my cheek and lips. His hands began roaming, undoing the buttons of the pajamas I was wearing.

Tsk… absolutely shameless.

I quickly swatted his hands away and shoved him harder until his large body was finally pushed off mine.

“Don’t you dare touch me!!!” I shouted, pointing at him with my index finger.

As if he had no shame at all, Fagan smiled and gently brushed my hand aside.

“I’m sorry. I went too far earlier. I promise I won’t do it again,” he said softly. His big hand reached for me again.

“I said don’t touch me. I’m disgusted,” I said firmly, slapping his hand away once more.

“I’m your husband, Zura. I have the right to touch you.”

I let out a small laugh.

“Yes. For now, I may be your wife. But just wait—I’ll be filing for divorce soon.”

I moved to get off the bed. But before one of my feet even touched the floor, Fagan roughly yanked me back onto the bed.

“You want a divorce?” he asked, his voice trembling. Once again, Fagan caged my body beneath his large frame.

“So you want to go back to Ardiaz? Is that it?”

“You want to marry him and have children with him? I won’t allow it!!” he growled, his jaw clenched tight.

So everything Megan said was true. Fagan really had deceived me—used me to avenge his wounded pride against Ardiaz.

“Ardiaz is a playboy. He’s handsome and good at seducing women. Do you think he doesn’t have a lover now? As a man admired by many women, I doubt he’d accept you with the status of a divorcee.”

“So you admit it?” I asked.

Fagan fell silent, his brow creasing. A second later, his jaw tightened again, his breathing growing ragged.

“Whether Ardiaz wants to accept me or not has nothing to do with you. Whether I want to be Ardiaz’s mistress or his girlfriend also has nothing to do with you. What matters is that I have to get away from a bastard like you, Fagan Zio Ravelo.”

My husband’s eyes bulged. His jaw tightened further until the muscles in his face stood out. His expression was terrifying. I had never seen him this angry before.

Honestly, I was afraid.

“If that’s your choice, you’d better just die,” he growled, emphasizing every word.

Die? Don’t tell me he was going to—

“I’ll see how crazy Ardiaz gets when he sees your grave.”

Before I could respond, his hands were already wrapped tightly around my neck.

His eyes stared at me sharply, filled with hatred. I struggled, hitting his arms and chest, but my blows meant nothing to Fagan. His body was too strong and too big for me to fight.

Slowly, my breathing became labored. My head started to spin. My hands and feet began to go numb.

Is this the end of my life? Dying at the hands of my own husband?

Tears slowly seeped from the corners of my eyes as my eyelids grew heavier.

I could still see the look of satisfaction in Mas Fagan’s eyes before I finally closed mine.

Darkness, suffocation, and lightness were all I felt.

An image of Grandma Rose appeared, smiling brightly.

“Grandma, forgive me. I love you. Goodbye.”

Just as I resigned myself to death, the grip around my neck suddenly loosened. Slowly, the hands that had been choking me were replaced by slaps on my cheeks, forcing me to open my eyes.

Fagan’s face appeared, panicked.

“Zura, open your eyes! Meizura Humayra, can you hear me?” he called, slapping my cheeks hard.

“I hate you,” I whispered as soon as I regained consciousness.

Fagan flinched and stepped back from the bed.

“You… you’re not allowed to hate me! You’re mine!” he said, shaking his head as he backed away.

“But I hate you,” I said more firmly.

“No!! Even until death, I’ll never let you go!” he swore, then ran out.

Bang!!

The bedroom door slammed shut. Not long after, the roar of a car engine followed. He was gone.

I let out a long breath.

“I thought I was going to die today.”

I touched my neck—it hurt, not just aching but burning. When I checked, there were marks left by Fagan’s fingernails.

I scooted backward, leaning my still-weak body against the headboard. Reality had slapped me brutally hard, forcing me to wake from a beautiful dream.

It turned out I wasn’t the luckiest woman in the world—but the most foolish one.

The perfect husband I had always boasted about was nothing more than a liar. His gentleness and care all this time were nothing but an act.

Fagan Zio Ravelo was a wealthy young entrepreneur. His name was often mentioned—not only because of his intelligence, but also because of his handsome looks that attracted many women. His face was firm, his gaze cold. His jaw was strong, his nose sharp, and his expression almost never showed excessive emotion.

But who would have thought that behind that perfection hid a cold-blooded man who had nearly killed his own wife?

Sudden fear seized me. Could I convince my family? Expose Fagan’s true face—something they might never have imagined?

Papa trusted Fagan deeply. It would be hard to make him stand on my side—especially since we weren’t close. Papa always thought I was like my late mother, prone to excessive hallucinations.

Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. I quickly called Rachel. Right now, she was the only one who could help me.

“Rachel? Can you come over? I need your help.”

“What’s wrong with your voice?” Rachel asked, sounding worried.

“Come here. I can’t explain it over the phone.”

“I’ll be there right away.”

My chest felt a little calmer. Rachel would help me. I hoped she’d arrive quickly.

I didn’t know how long passed when suddenly footsteps sounded outside the bedroom door.

“Zura!!” Rachel’s voice came from behind the door. “May I come in?”

“Come in,” I replied, forcing my voice to sound firm—though it came out weak.

My throat hurt, and my head was pounding.

“Zura!” Rachel called again, this time knocking on the door. “You’re inside, right?”

The door opened. Rachel’s head peeked in.

“Oh my God, Zura…!” she screamed in shock.

“What happened to you?” The girl ran toward me.

“What’s wrong with your face? And your neck? Were you strangled?” Rachel bombarded me with questions.

“Was it Brother Fagan who did this?”

“We have to report this to the police!”