Episode2
1144 Words
Amelia’s POV
My heart stopped. My hand instinctively covered my stomach, I'm not pregnant but because of how cruelly he said it.
All I could do was stand there, silent, swallowing my pain like poison.
I've tried to make this marriage work for the past three years but it is unfortunate that I'm married to the man who doesn't deserve me.
A man who hates me so much.
“Damien, that’s enough!” Mrs. Blackwell’s voice broke through the tension as she walked in. Her tone was sharp, but her concern wasn’t for me, it was for the family’s image. “You shouldn’t treat your wife this way. What will people say if she shows up at the signing with a bruise on her face?”
Damien scoffed, buttoning his jacket. “Maybe they’ll finally see who she really is, a woman desperate enough to crawl her way into my life. Don’t act like she’s the reason our company’s successful. I built Blackwell Enterprises with my own hands.”
Mrs. Blackwell gave him a tight look. “You wouldn’t have built anything without her designs. Like it or not, her work has value.”
He turned sharply toward her. “Don’t defend her, Mother. You were the one who pushed this marriage, remember? Now look at the mess it created.”
He grabbed his keys and stormed toward the door.
“The signing is in two hours,” his mother reminded him.
“I’m not taking her,” he said coldly. “Let her go alone. She’s nothing but a shadow in my company.”
The door slammed behind him, leaving silence heavy in the room.
I stood there, still shaking, my face numb. Mrs. Blackwell sighed and looked at me, not with sympathy, just tired irritation. “You’d better fix your face before the meeting,” she said flatly. “You represent the Blackwell Enterprises name. Don’t embarrass us.”
She turned and walked away without another glance.
The moment she left, my knees gave out. I pressed my palms to the floor, breathing through the pain. Three years. Three long, humiliating years of enduring this nightmare, for my sister’s life.
Three years of being his punching bag, his scapegoat, his silent worker in the shadows.
My reflection in the glass coffee table caught my eye, pale, bruised, and exhausted. But I wasn’t the same girl who signed that contract crying in a hospital hallway. No, this woman had learned how to survive pain.
I stood up, brushed the tears from my face, and straightened my blouse. The signing was today, and I would not miss it.
In three days, my contract would end.
Three days.
And I would finally be free.
I quickly got to the meeting for the signing.
The room was filled with the low murmur of voices and the sound of pens scratching against paper. The deal was worth billions, and every investor in the room knew it. I kept my expression calm, steady, even when my phone began to buzz across the table.
I glanced at the screen. Damien.
My chest tightened. For a moment, I thought of ignoring it, but I knew better.
I pressed the phone to my ear, forcing my voice to stay even. “Hello?”
“Get your useless self over here right now, you b***h!” his voice thundered through the speaker, sharp and venomous enough to make my blood run cold.
I froze, pretending nothing was wrong as the investors looked up. My lips curved into a tight, polite smile. “Damien, I’m in the middle of an important signing right now. Can this wait?”
“Did you just disobey me?” he hissed. “You seem to forget the first rule of our contract, Amelia, you obey me unconditionally.”
The words sank into my chest like knives. I clenched my hand under the table, nails digging into my palm to keep myself from trembling. Just three more days, I reminded myself silently. Three more days and I’ll be free. I’ll divorce him, cut every tie, and finally breathe again.
“I’ll be right there,” I said quietly, ending the call before my voice broke.
I turned to the investors, forcing a small, apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, gentlemen. Something urgent just came up.”
Chairs scraped as I stood, the tension thick in the air. One of the investors muttered, “What the hell…” under his breath as I walked out.
My steps were steady, but inside, I was falling apart.
I rushed out of Blackwell Enterprises, my heels hitting the pavement so hard it echoed in my ears. Damian’s voice still burned in my head, “Get your useless self over here right now, you bitch.”
My hands were shaking as I flagged down a cab. He sounded furious, and part of me prayed it was something serious, something that justified calling me in the middle of a billion-dollar signing.
By the time I got to the address he sent, my lungs felt like they were on fire. I ran through the front door… and froze.
Music. Laughter. The smell of whiskey and expensive cigars.
And there he was, Damian. Leaning back on a velvet couch, drink in hand, surrounded by his friends. Women in glittering dresses draped over him like ornaments. The bass of the music thumped through the floor, matching the rage building inside me.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” one of his girlfriends hissed, her eyes sliding over me like I was dirt. “Damian’s little puppy.”
I ignored her. My voice came out tight. “I’m here, Damian.”
He stood slowly, his eyes cold and unreadable. Then, without warning, his hand landed a hot slap on my face.
The slap echoed louder than the music. My skin burned instantly, my vision blurred for a second. I bit down hard on my lip and forced myself not to react, not here, not in front of everyone.
“What took you so long?” he growled. “Did you crawl here like a dog?”
My voice shook, but I kept it together. “The meeting was far from the company. I came as fast as I could.”
He smirked, his eyes gleaming with cruelty. “Oh, that meeting again. You think I care about your stupid signing?”
He took a sip from his glass, then stepped closer.
“My shoes are dirty,” he said darkly. “I called you here to lick them clean.”
I froze. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. His friends laughed. One of them even took out his phone to record.
The humiliation burned so deep it almost felt like fire under my skin. But I remembered the first rule of the contract, obey Damian unconditionally.
- Writer
