The accusation ripped through me. I just stood there, bleeding, shaking, staring into the eyes of the man who once said he loved me more than loyalty itself.
“You’re going there,” he snarled, “and you’ll get on your fucking knees and beg.”
I touched my lip. Blood smeared my fingertips. My voice was cracked when I finally spoke.
“You really believe I’d do that to your fucking mistress?”
“You dragged her into my house, Zeus. My bed. My life. Did I say a word? Did I scream? You didn’t see me cry. You didn’t care. And now I’m the villain?”
He didn’t answer. Didn’t blink. He just grabbed my wrist. Rough. Possessive. Like I was an object.
He dragged me out the door. Down the steps. Into the car.
The moment the door shut, I breathed in deep, looked straight ahead, and whispered what I should’ve said long ago.
“LET'S BREAK UP! I’m... I'm done, Zeus. Done with all of this.”
He turned his head slowly. His voice was flat. Distant. “Not until you kneel in front of Zoraya.”
“Not until she forgives you.” A pause. “Then you can crawl out of my life.”
---