WORST BETRAYAL:I TRUSTED MY SISTER

The clatter of broken glass echoed through the living room as Jace hurled the wine bottle against the wall. Red droplets stained the white rug like blood splatter, but Amira didn’t flinch. She stood still, one hand gripping the edge of the marble counter, the other shielding the bruised side of her face. "You useless woman!" he barked, his voice slurred with alcohol. "You can't even serve a proper dinner without ruining my night." Amira’s throat tightened, but she stayed silent. She’d learned silence was safer. Words, even the wrong breath, could ignite another blow. She lowered her eyes, trying not to meet his drunken gaze. "I had meetings today," he continued, swaying slightly, "Meetings that actually matter. Unlike you, sitting at home playing housewife. How did I ever marry someone so pathetic?" Pathetic. That word clung to her skin like poison. She bit down on her bottom lip, hard enough to taste blood, but it kept her from crying. He hated tears.he Said they made her look weak, he Said weakness makes him angry. But she remembered. She remembered the woman she used to be—the woman who ran a chain of luxury fashion boutiques, who sat on panels and signed checks with her name in gold. Until he made her give it all up. Until he married her, moved her into his glass mansion, and slowly erased her voice. “You think being my wife means you matter?” he hissed, leaning in so close she could smell the whiskey on his breath. “I could replace you in a second. Hell—” he jerked a thumb toward the hallway “—maybe I already have.” Amira followed his gaze just in time to see a figure step out of the guest bedroom. Tanya,Her best friend,Wearing nothing but Jace’s shirt. Amira’s heart stuttered, not from surprise—she already suspected—but from the open cruelty of it. Tanya’s smirk wasn’t even apologetic. It was proud. “Didn’t expect to see me so soon, did you?” Tanya purred, tossing her hair. “But then again, someone has to keep your husband entertained.” Jace laughed. “At least she knows how to please a man.” The room spun. Not from dizziness—but from rage. Pure, cold rage that simmered under her skin like a sleeping fire. “I made your dinner,” Amira whispered, forcing her voice to stay calm. “It’s in the oven. Try not to choke.” She turned and walked away before they could laugh again. She locked herself in the bedroom, slid to the floor, and let the tears fall only when the door muffled the world. Her hand found her stomach. No bruises tonight. That was good. At least not where anyone could see. In the crib beside her bed, her two-year-old daughter Ayra stirred in her sleep. A soft sound. A soft reminder. Amira crawled toward her and leaned over the crib, brushing a hand over Ayra’s silky curls. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Mommy’s trying.” The next morning, Jace was gone before sunrise. Probably in someone else’s bed. Tanya was still there, lounging in a robe, drinking orange juice like she belonged there. “You should really fix your face,” she said casually. “The bags under your eyes? Not cute.” Amira smiled—slow, cold. “And you should fix your soul.” Tanya blinked, caught off guard for just a moment. But Amira didn’t wait for a reply. She had things to do. That morning, while Ayra played in her high chair, Amira pulled out a manila envelope from the back of the wardrobe. Inside was everything Jace never knew about. Legal documents. Copies of bank accounts. A new apartment lease under a different name. A packed passport. She had been planning this for months. Carefully. Quietly. She had played her part long enough. But she would not walk away without a scar to leave behind. Not yet. Not until she made him regret everything. Because the man who thought he owned her… was about to lose everything he ever had. And he wouldn’t even see it coming.