The Other Mrs: Wrong Enemy.

Chapter 3: Venom In A Sundress.

Myrah.

I watched her hang up the call, and a tired sigh slid out of me before I could stop it.

Life was easy. Or at least, it should have been. Say the truth, own it, deal with the consequences, simple...! So why did she always make honesty feel like a war crime? And what irritated me most was the slow, bitter realisation that she’d just called me a w***e without ever using the word. Women like her were talented that way, throwing stones with silk gloves on..and I just got to gulp it all in just because she's my sister and I care about her so much.

I turned onto my side, dragging the sheet with me, my patience thinning by the second.

My eyes landed on the disgusting excuse of a human being sprawled beside me, sleeping like he wasn’t part of why life occasionally felt like a badly written joke. Men had a supernatural ability to rest peacefully in chaos they helped create.

I shoved him hard.

“Get up,” I snapped. “I’ve got work to do.”

He groaned, rolling closer, still half-asleep. I shot him a look sharp enough to draw blood. He finally sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“Wow,” he yawned. “So early?”

“Yes,” I said, already swinging my legs off the bed. “Early enough for you to leave.”

I didn’t wait for a response. I walked straight to the mirror because mirrors didn’t lie, and I needed something honest this morning. I leaned closer and began my routine..controlled, precise, almost ritualistic.

First, a light foundation, just enough to even out my skin without muting it. I wasn’t the type to hide. A dab of concealer under my eyes, blended with my fingers.

My brows came next...defined, sharp, unapologetic. I dusted bronzer along my cheekbones, letting it catch the light like a warning. Mascara, slow and deliberate. Lip gloss?clear, glossy, lethal. My signature. The kind that made men forget their names and women reassess their morals.

My hair fell exactly where it wanted to, cascading over my shoulders like it understood authority.

Behind me, he cleared his throat.

I met his stare through the mirror, lifting a brow. He was watching me like I was a spectacle instead of a woman who had just asked him to leave.

He smiled. “You look dangerously gorgeous this early in the morning.”

I scoffed. “I know. But thanks...if it makes you feel okay.”

He nodded like I’d just handed him a participation trophy and wandered off to pour himself a drink.

I watched him from the corner of my eye and wondered, not for the first time, how women managed to fall in love with creatures like this.

The only time I ever truly admired a man was during ovulation, or when I was dangerously horny. Outside of that, they were tolerable at best.

Don’t get me wrong.

Aaron is my boyfriend.

That was the sole reason he was still breathing my air and standing on my floor. He came back with a glass of wine and handed it to me like it was an offering.

“I’ve been out of town for three… four years,” he said casually, “and it’s weird that you don’t act like you missed me.”

I hissed under my breath and dropped my comb onto the vanity. “Aaron, can you not? It’s too early for this.”

He sighed dramatically, the sound of a man who thought emotional labour was optional. I sipped my wine, hoping, praying he’d announce another trip. Another absence. Anything.

Instead, he smiled.

“How about a date tonight?” he said. “Just you and me.”

I widened my eyes for half a second, then pasted on a smile sweet enough to rot teeth. “Baby… I really wish I could. Truly. But my sister needs me right now, and I don’t want it to seem like I don’t care.”

He exhaled deeply. “I’m not trying to paint your family bad, but why do they always drag you into drama? Drama after drama.”

I laughed without humour. “Welcome to the Sebastian family.”

He chuckled and stepped closer, lifting a section of my hair. “A ponytail would look good with this dress.”

Before I could reply, he walked to my closet and returned holding a cute yellow sundress.

I stared at him, then burst out laughing. He looked ridiculous trying so hard, almost endearing.

I clapped slowly. “All hail boyfriend of the year."

He did a stupid little dance that made me chuckle despite myself, then leaned in to kiss me.

My phone rang.

Mom.

I hissed quietly and stepped back. “I need to take this.”

He nodded, unbothered.

I walked out onto the balcony and answered. “Hey, Mrs Sebastian?”

She hissed so loudly it lasted longer than Aaron ever did in bed.

“We need you home, Myrah.” She ordered.

I scoffed, wondering if audacity was on sale. I glanced around, making sure the drama I was about to unleash would be for my eyes only.

“So,” I said calmly, “does this request come with uh...a charm? Or do you just expect me to book a flight because you snapped your fingers?”

Silence.

I waited, already knowing what this was. Typical Mum. A masterclass in emotional hostage-taking.

“Mum?” I said flatly. “Hello?”

She sighed. “You don’t listen. You never do. When will you visit the family?”

I exhaled deeply. This was the part that drained me, the guilt dressed as concern, the manipulation wrapped in motherhood. I muted the call and walked back inside.

“Aaron,” I called, “you got a cigarette?”

“Yeah!” he yelled from the bathroom. “Check my jeans.”

I grabbed his jeans from the bed and shoved my hand into the pocket.

My fingers brushed something unfamiliar.

I pulled it out.

An empty condom pack.

My breath caught.

We didn’t use condoms. I hated them. Always had. That thing didn’t belong to us. Which meant only one thing.

I smiled knowing this dog just played with the wrong woman.

I shoved the packet back into his jeans quickly. “I can’t find it,” I called. “These.. uh..nails I fixed are in the way.”

He stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and kissed my cheek. Every instinct in me screamed violence.

“You look damn hot,” I said sweetly.

He smirked, proud of himself. That look alone gave me another reason to hate men.

As he reached for his jeans, I stepped closer, slowly stroking his d**k just enough to make him groan. He fumbled with the towel.

I caught his wrist. “Keep searching for the cigarette,” I murmured. “You should be able to multitask.”

He chuckled nervously and reached into the pocket again.

Of course.

The condom pack slipped out.

His eyes widened. He tried to toss it aside.

I didn’t let him.

I yanked him closer by dragging his d**k and slammed my elbow into his groin.

He crumpled instantly.

“f**k!!! Oh! f**k!” he groaned. “What the hell!”

I crouched in front of him, my voice calm, almost amused. “Wait here. I need to finish the call with my mum. I’ll be back for you.”

He grabbed my dress weakly. “Baby, wait...listen...”

I shoved his hand off, lit the cigarette, and blew smoke into his face. “When I’m done,” I whispered, “you’re going to tell me everything. Who she is. When. Where.”

He tried to speak but I pressed the cigarette to his lips. “Don’t.”

I walked back outside and picked up my phone.

The call had ended.

I scoffed at the sound of a notification, I paused and opened my messages.

A new text from Mum flashed on the screen.

'#Come home. Your sister might die soon.#'

The world stopped.

I read it again.

And again.

My chest went hollow, like something vital had been ripped out without warning. The smoke burned my lungs as my hands began to shake.

“f**k,” I whispered.

And just like that, everything was about to burn

as I took my car keys and drove out to Maximum Aura Club'...I needed to clear my head or maybe clear my coochie.