“Cut it out. Don’t talk about my wife like that; get lost.”
The men fell quiet, recognizing the dangerous edge in Javier’s tone.
Seizing the opportunity, Sybil pouted, “Javier, I want that house of hers. Can’t you just give it to me?”
The villa I lived in was in the Southside District, a property Javier had earned back when he had nothing to his name. He closed deal after deal until he finally made it his.
I was certain he wouldn’t give it to her.
But then, his soft chuckle broke the tension, his lips pressing together in a near-smirk. “Alright, alright, I’ll give it to you.”
And just like that, a quiet, fragile piece of me fractured, something I didn’t fully grasp, something I couldn’t name.
Part 2
Javier’s words cut through the air, his grip tightening on my hand with his mocking smile. “So, you’re planning to leave?”
He leaned in, his voice dripping with indifference. “Beg me and maybe I’ll let you stay. Do you know how to please me? Do it on your own; I’ll watch.”
Humiliation. Embarrassment. Both sank deep into my chest.
When we arrived home, Javier wasted no time, pulling me toward the bed with a confident stride.