Heartless Until Him.

The mask falls

Hurrem’s POV

For four months, Richard had been perfect. Then, slowly, the mask began to slip.

At first, I told myself I was imagining things. He was stressed. Work was hard. I was being too sensitive.

But the night he compared our hands, I couldn't pretend anymore.

We were sitting on his couch, watching some movie I wasn't paying attention to. He took my hand and placed it next to his on the armrest. Palm to palm.

"Look," he said, almost casually. "My skin is so much brighter than yours."

I looked down. It was true. He had fair skin. I was darker. I had never thought about it before.

"So?" I said.

"So nothing." He pulled his hand away and smiled. "I just find it interesting. You're so lucky I still find you beautiful."

Lucky.

That word stuck in my chest like a thorn.

"What do you mean, lucky?" I asked.

He sighed, like he was explaining something obvious to a child. "I mean, most men wouldn't look twice at a woman with your skin tone. But I did. Because I love you. You should be grateful."

Grateful. For being loved despite my skin.

I didn't know what to say. So I said nothing.

That night, I looked at myself in the mirror and saw my hands differently. Too dark. Not good enough.

He's right, a small voice whispered. You're lucky he chose you.

I hated that voice. But I couldn't make it shut up.

Richard’s POV - Planting the poison

Richard watched Hurrem stare at her hands in the mirror from the bedroom doorway. She didn't know he was there.

Good, he thought. She's already doubting herself.

He had used this trick before. Compare skin tones. Make her feel less than. Then remind her that he was doing her a favor by staying.

“It worked every time.” He smirked at his own thought.

He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "You're beautiful, you know. Even with your... complexion."

Even with. Two more nails in the coffin.

She leaned back against him. "Richard, do you really think I'm lucky to have you?"

"I know you are." He kissed her shoulder. "But don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. As long as you behave."

She didn't ask what "behave" meant. She just nodded.

Perfect, he thought. She's already broken. She just doesn't know it yet.

Hurrem’s POV - The savings

A few weeks later, Richard sat me down at the kitchen table.

"I need your help," he said, holding my hands. His voice was soft, almost sad. "There's an investment opportunity. A beachfront property. It will double in value within a year. But I'm short on cash right now."

I pulled back. "My savings? Richard, that's my emergency fund."

"I know. And I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important." He made his eyes wide and vulnerable.

“This is for us, Hurrem. Our future. Our family."He almost screamed.

I thought about it. He had been so good to me. So patient. So loving.

"Okay," I said. "How much?"

"All of it." He said instantly.

My heart stopped. "All of it?"

"Just temporarily. I'll pay it back in three months. With interest. I promise."

I looked into his eyes. They seemed honest.

You're being paranoid, I told myself. He loves you. Trust him.

"Okay," I whispered. "I'll transfer it tomorrow."

He pulled me into a hug. "Thank you, baby. You won't regret this."

“I hope so”. I said and try to brushed off my all negative feelings

Richard’s POV- The spending

The money hit Richard's account on a Tuesday.

By Wednesday, he had booked a weekend trip to Bali. Not with Hurrem. With Mia and two other women he'd met at a club.

He posted nothing on social media. He wasn't stupid. But he sent Hurrem a text: "Working late all weekend. Big deal. Love you."

She replied: "Love you too. Be safe."

He laughed and turned off his phone.

“Fool. All women are foolish.” He thought

Hurrem’s POV - The video

Three months passed. Then four. Then five.

Richard didn't pay back the money. Every time I asked, he had an excuse. "The deal got delayed." "The lawyer messed up." "Just one more week, baby. Trust me."

I stopped asking.

He started coming home late. Smelling like perfume that wasn't mine. His phone buzzed constantly with messages from names I didn't recognize.

One night, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Who is Mia?" I asked, holding up his phone.

He snatched it from my hand. "None of your business."

"Mia sent you a message that said 'last night was fun.' You told me you were working late."

He stood up, his face red. "You're suffocating me. I can pull any girl I want. I chose you. That should be enough."

"Chose me?" My voice was shaking. "You drained my savings. You spend money on other women. You tell me my skin is too dark. And I'm supposed to be grateful?"

"YES." He stepped closer. "You should be grateful. Do you know how many women want me? Rich women. Fair women. Women who don't ask questions."

Something inside me snapped.

“Then go," I said, my voice cold. "Do it. Show me who you can pull. I dare you."

He laughed. "You don't mean that."

"I do. Go. Prove to me that I'm not worth staying for."

He stared at me for a long moment. Then he smiled — slow and cruel.

"Fine. You asked for this."He walked out the door.

I sat on the couch, shaking, waiting for him to come back. He always came back.

But that evening, my phone buzzed.

A video. Richard sitting at a restaurant, holding hands with a beautiful woman. Fair skin. Long hair. Smiling at him like he was a hero.

The caption: "See? Told you. Your loss."

I threw my phone across the room. It shattered against the wall.