Meera~

I punched and punched and punched my fists into the dough, over and over again, ignoring the stinging pain shooting through my knuckles. Tears blurred my vision, but I didn’t stop. I kept kneading, overworking the dough—just like I was overworking my breaking heart.

"You are a whore."

"You are a whore."

"You are a whore."

That’s what he called me. A whore.

I’ve been called many things—ugly, freak, fat, bitch—but never that. Never that. And the cruelest part? I am a damn virgin.

I have always kept my distance from men, except when I was- except for Ian, my best friend. But Ian and I are purely platonic—no romance, no attraction—just loyalty and care. Yet, Abram, my own husband, threw that word at me like a dagger, slicing through whatever was left of my dignity.

I know he hates me. But how could he use such a vile word against me?

Do I really deserve this? Do I deserve to be humiliated like this? Maybe… maybe I do. Because what Abram is doing to me is nothing compared to the sin I committed.

Maybe I should suffer. Maybe I should burn in his hatred. Maybe I deserve this torment.

Abram~

I hate her. I fucking hate that bitch.

“Abram, come on. You can’t dwell on Charlotte’s death forever. You need to move on.”

I glared at Ariana, my assistant, my friend.

Charlotte. Why is she bringing up Charlotte?

“What the hell are you doing here this late, Ariana?” I snapped, my patience wearing thin. I wasn’t in the mood for company.

I was exhausted—mentally, physically, emotionally. First, that woman humiliated me at the party, parading around with Ian Knightly, dragging my reputation through the mud. And then today’s meeting… I fucking lost the deal. All because of her. If she hadn’t invaded every inch of my mind, I would have been more focused.

Ariana handed me a glass of scotch and poured herself one, sliding closer. I took the drink and downed it in one go, welcoming the burn.

I drank. And drank. And drank—until the alcohol numbed everything.

“How’s your young wife?” Ariana asked, her voice laced with mockery. “What’s her name again? Ira? No… Meera.” She smirked, reaching for a strand of my hair, twirling it between her fingers.

I groaned in irritation. “Stop getting on my nerves, Ari. And don’t say that bitch’s name in front of me.” My words slurred, my lids heavy.

Ariana closed the nonexistent gap between us. I could feel her, smell her perfume—intoxicating, suffocating. She grabbed my head gently and put it on her big chest, cradling me. and she stroked my back, her touch oddly soothing.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you, Abram,” she whispered. “But that cunt Charlotte was always in the way. Now she’s gone.” She chuckled. “And we? We can finally be together.”

She leaned in and I didn't back away.

But before her lips met mine—

CRASH.

A shattering sound echoed through the room.

We both turned toward the door.

And there she was.

Meera.

Even in my drunken haze, my hatred for her flared. I hated the way she looked at me. I hated everything about her. I hated her very existence.

Tears welled in her eyes as she stared at us. A broken cup lay at her feet, coffee spreading across the floor.

Good.

Let her burn.

She should suffer. She deserves to suffer. She should never forget what she did to me.

Meera~

Was he really going to cheat on me? Was that how much he despised me?

Did our vows mean nothing to him?

I turned my gaze to the woman beside him. She was beautiful—short blonde hair, perfectly styled. But was she shameless, too? To come after a married man?

Of course, they were both shameless.

I looked back at Abram, searching for something—an answer, an explanation, anything. But all I received in return was a cruel smirk.

Then, with slow, deliberate movements, he pulled Ariana onto his lap and ran his hands along her exposed thigh.

Pain.

Sharp, twisting, suffocating pain.

My breath hitched, my legs wobbled.

Not only was he with her, but he was doing it so openly, so cruelly, just to hurt me.

They both smirked at me.

And then he spoke—words that shattered whatever was left of my soul.

My heart stopped.

Garbage.

He just compared me to garbage.

Why, Abram? Why are you doing this to me? Was calling me a whore not enough? Now this?

Ariana stood, a wicked smile on her lips, and strode toward me.

And then—she pushed me.

I landed hard on my back, the cold floor beneath me.

Tears streamed down my face. My chin trembled. My body ached—not just from the fall, but from the humiliation, from the unbearable pain of being discarded.

But this time… this time, it hurt more than before.

Because this time, he didn’t just degrade me.

This time, he let someone else do it, too.

He made me feel like nothing.

Love Pia.