The door to the ward had barely closed when my phone buzzed. A message from Christopher.
I hesitated before opening it.
A video.
The screen lit up with the sight of him—naked, tangled with another woman whose face was blurred, their bodies entwined in an obscene display.
Disgusting, wet sounds filled the silence of my hospital room.
My hands trembled. My stomach churned. I fumbled to turn off the phone, but before I could, it rang.
Christopher.
His voice on the other end was laced with mockery, slow and lazy, filled with disdain.
“Did you watch it?” He chuckled. “If you don’t send me the hotel room number before 8 o’clock, I’ll make sure countless more videos like this flood your phone. Consider it a lesson—watch and learn how real women serve their men.”
A deep, suffocating ache spread through my chest. My fingers clenched around the phone.
“…I’ll go,” I whispered.
Christopher sighed in satisfaction.
“Ariana, remember this—you chose this life.” His voice was cold, cutting. “Eight years ago, you took advantage of my family’s bankruptcy and forced me and Liz apart. The day you dragged me back to your home, you should have known—you’d never get even a sliver of my love.”
And then, he hung up.