Heartless Until Him.

The blame game

Richard’s POV

Richard came back three hours later. He found Hurrem sitting on the floor, surrounded by broken glass.

"Look what you made me do," he said, kneeling beside her. "If you hadn't challenged me, I wouldn't have had to prove anything. You provoked me. This is your fault."

She looked up at him, her eyes red and swollen. "My fault?"

"Yes. I was trying to love you. But you push people away. You always have. The playgirl act, the tough interviews, the walls — it's all your fault."

She stared at him. He could see the words sinking in like knives.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He pulled her into his arms. "That's my girl. I forgive you. Just don't do it again."

She nodded against his chest.

He smiled at the wall.

“Too easy”. He thought. She'll believe anything

Hurrem’s POV

A few weeks passed. Richard was sweet again. He didn't return my savings, but he promised he would. "Soon. When my business recovers." I believed him.

One night, he kissed my neck and whispered, "I want you. All of you. Tonight."

I pulled back. "Richard, you know my belief. I want to wait. Until marriage."

He laughed. "That's childish. Everyone does it before marriage. It's just sex."

"I said no."

His face hardened. Then softened. "Okay. I understand. I'll wait. For you."

I smiled, relieved.

But I didn't see the look in his eyes when I turned away.

Richard’s POV - The Plan

Richard waited two weeks. Then he invited Hurrem over for a "special dinner."

He cooked pasta. Lit candles. Poured her a glass of wine.

"Just one glass," he said. "To celebrate our anniversary."

She didn't remember an anniversary. But she drank anyway.

He had crushed two sleeping pills into the wine. Not enough to knock her out completely. Enough to make her limbs heavy, her mind foggy.

An hour later, she was slurring her words. "Richard... I feel... strange..."

He smiled. "It's okay. Just relax. I'll take care of you."

He carried her to his bedroom.

She tried to push him away. Her hands were weak. Useless.

"Please," she whispered. "Don't."

He didn't listen.

Hurrem’s POV - The Morning After

I woke up naked. Sore. Bleeding.

Richard was already dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed, drinking coffee.

"Good morning, baby," he said. "See? Not so bad."

I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I just stared at the ceiling.

He took it. He took everything.

My savings. My trust. My body.My choice.

Something inside me died. Not broke. Died.

“You used me, I said No but still you used me. You destroyed me today”. I screamed in anger

“It was just s*x. You are exaggerating things baby”. Richard said.

“You think I am exaggerating things?” I stood up to slap him but he caught my hand and said,”You humiliated me before. Trying to repeat the mistake again”

These words shattered me. I didn't cry. I didn't have any tears left.

He left and I just stared at the ceiling and wished I wasn't alive.

Hurrem’s POV- The Breaking Point

I didn't leave my apartment for two weeks.

I didn't eat. I barely drank. I just lay in bed, staring at the wall, replaying every moment.

I trusted him. I gave him everything. And he destroyed me. Because I humiliated him on TV.

This was revenge. All of it.

I thought about dying. It would be so easy. Just stop breathing. Just stop existing.

My phone buzzed. Lara. Seventeen missed calls.

Finally, I answered.

"Lara," I whispered. "I need help. Please. Richard — he —"

"What did he do?" Her voice was sharp.

"He took everything. My money. My —" I couldn't say it. "He hurt me. I need a place to stay. Please."

Silence.

Then Lara spoke. Cold. Unrecognizable.

"Hurrem, listen to me. I warned you. Months ago. I told you he was bad news. I told you to stay away. You didn't listen. You never listen."

"Lara, please —"

"No. You made your choices. Face them."

"But you're my best friend —"

"Was." The word cut like glass. "I'm not your best friend anymore. You pushed everyone away. Including me. So don't call me again."The line went dead.

I stared at my phone. Then I started laughing. Hysterical. Broken.

Even Lara. Even my best friend.

She's right. I pushed everyone away.

I deserve this.

Hurrem’s POV - The final betrayal

A week later, I forced myself to check my emails. Work stuff. Bills. And one message from an unknown sender.

I opened it.

It was a long document. Screenshots of text messages. Bank transfers. And a voice recording.

I pressed play.

Lara's voice: "Richard, I can get you access to her. She trusts me. Just transfer the money first."

Richard's voice: "Done. Fifty thousand. Now deliver."

Lara: "Give me a week. She'll be yours."I listened to it three times.

Lara had sold me. For fifty thousand dollars. My childhood best friend. The girl who saved me from bullies in school. The girl who hugged me behind the gym after Abraham left.

“She sold me.” At this thought my head started spinning and I threw up.

Then I sat on the bathroom floor, shaking, and realized the truth.

I had no money. No purity. No friend. No career — because I hadn't shown up for work in two weeks. They had probably fired me already.

“I had nothing.. I was nothing. I was feeling like a f*****g ZERO”. I kept screaming these lines to me.

I picked up the scissors from the counter.

The metal was cold against my palm.

“Strong lady? You were nothing but that same old girl who were sensitive, too sensitive to even take a heartbreak and a friendship betrayal” I said to myself and started laughing hysterically at myself.

One cut, I thought. That's all it takes.I pressed the blade against my wrist.

Abraham’s POV - The investigation

Seven thousand miles away, in Paris, Abraham sat in his office, staring at the report.

The private investigator had sent everything. Photos. Bank records. Text messages. A recording of Lara and Richard's conversation.

He read about the skin tone comments. The drained savings. The video of Richard with another woman. The intoxication. The assault.

He read about Lara's betrayal.

He read about Hurrem's two weeks of silence. No shows. No calls. No exits from her apartment.

Abraham's hands were shaking. Not from sadness. From rage.

“I left her to protect her”. He thought. I thought staying away would keep her safe. Instead, she was devoured by a wolf while I sat here counting my money.

He picked up his phone. Called his assistant.

"Cancel all my meetings. Book me a flight to Singapore. Tonight."

"Sir, you have the board meeting tomorrow —" My assistant reminded me.

"I don't care. Book the flight."I said with rage.

He hung up. Then he walked to his closet and pulled out a small wooden box. The puzzle box. The one Hurrem had given him seven years ago.

He had never solved it. Not because he couldn't. Because he wanted to solve it with her.

He opened the box. The note inside was still there: "The best puzzles are the ones that keep you coming back."

“I'm coming back,I'm coming back for you.” He said in his mind.

He boarded the plane as the sun set over Paris.

Somewhere in Singapore, a broken woman sat on a bathroom floor, holding scissors against her wrist.

She didn't know it yet. But help was on its way.