SHATTERED ON PURPOSE

The First Betrayal

The silence in the days following his mother's funeral was a suffocating monster, but the silent red dot painted on Rihanna's life was far worse.

Every time Marcus looked at her, he didn't just see the woman who had held him while he wept over two caskets; he saw the shadow of the Syndicate's sniper scope hanging over her head. Every text from an unknown number made his skin crawl. Every time Rihanna stepped out to go to the market or the clinic, Marcus's pulse spiked into sheer panic.

He had tried to drop subtle hints , asking if she'd ever considered moving out of state, suggesting a fresh start somewhere far away. But Rihanna was as unyielding as iron.

"Leave?" she had snapped, her voice cracking with fierce emotion as she folded his laundry earlier that morning. "Marcus, your family was just murdered. You think I'm going to pack up and run away to another state like a coward while you're here grieving alone? I am not going anywhere. We face this together."

She was too caring. Her stubbornness was going to get her killed.

Standing in the dim light of their living room while Rihanna ran an errand, Marcus made his peace with hell. If love couldn't make her leave, absolute, gut-wrenching hatred would.

***

At 3:00 PM on a rainy Thursday afternoon, Marcus set the trap.

Rihanna came home early from the clinic, carrying a bag of hot takeout food and a heart full of worry. She unlocked the front door, calling out his name. "Marcus? I got the pepper soup you liked ..."

She froze in the narrow hallway.

The takeout bag slipped from Rihanna's fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Standing in the center of the living room, pressed up against the side of the dining table, was Marcus. And wrapped around his neck was a woman in a dangerously low-cut dress.

They weren't just standing near each other; they were locked in a frantic, non-stop kiss. Marcus had his broad hands pinned to the woman's waist, tilting her head back as his lips worked ruthlessly over hers, deep and possessive. The stranger held onto his shoulders, moaning softly against his mouth, her fingers tangled in his dark hair.

The wet, intimate sound of their mouth-to-mouth contact filled the silent room. Marcus didn't pause for air. He kept kissing her with a raw, intense hunger , the exact kind of passionate focus he used to reserve only for Rihanna.

"What..." Rihanna’s voice was barely a whisper before her loud, explosive nature took over, her chest heaving as heat rushed to her face. "What the hell is this?!"

Marcus didn't break the kiss immediately. He took more extra seconds, letting his lips drag slowly across the woman's jawline before he pulled back, wiping his mouth intimately on her exposed breast .

The hired woman offered a slow, cruel smirk, casually adjusting her dress as she stepped back.

Rihanna stepped into the room like a storm, her hands trembling with violent rage. She grabbed a glass vase off the entryway table and smashed it against the wall, shattering it into a hundred pieces. "Get out! GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

"Rihanna, calm down," Marcus said coldly, stepping between her and the hired woman. His voice was flat, completely devoid of warmth. "She's leaving."

The woman gathered her purse and slipped out the door without another word, leaving the heavy scent of cheap strawberry perfume hanging in the air.

Rihanna turned on Marcus, tears of pure shock spilling down her cheeks. "Marcus, tell me I'm dreaming! Tell me you weren't just eating another woman's mouth in our home! After everything?! After I stood by you through your mother's death?!"

Every screaming nerve in Marcus's body wanted to fall to his knees, grab her hands, and scream the truth , that the woman was a paid slut , that the Syndicate was watching through the window right now. But he forced his expression to remain detached.

"I'm tired, Rihanna," he lied, looking away so she wouldn't see the agony in his eyes. "I'm stressed... and you've been smothering me. I needed a distraction."

"A distraction?!" Rihanna screamed, stepping forward and striking his chest with her fists. "I love you! I gave you everything!"

She hit him again and again, her fierce, stubborn heart refusing to comprehend the betrayal. But Marcus just stood there, taking every blow without moving, forcing himself to endure the sight of her breaking.

***

For three quiet days, the apartment was a battleground of tears and heavy silence. Marcus kept his distance, waiting for her to pack her bags and walk out the door.

But on the fourth night, Rihanna's desperate, unwavering devotion took over.

She walked into the kitchen where Marcus was standing. Her eyes were red and swollen, her face pale from sleepless nights, but her posture was resolute.

"We've been together six years, Marcus," she whispered, her loud voice reduced to a fragile, trembling murmur. "You lost your whole family two weeks ago. You're broken. You're not in your right mind... I know that wasn't you."

Marcus felt his throat lock up." No. No, Ri, don't do this..."

"I forgive you," she said, stepping toward him, her stubborn hands reaching out to hold his face. "We can fix this. I won't give up on us just because you made a terrible mistake."

She leaned in and kissed his cheek, holding him tightly against her chest.

Marcus stood frozen in her arms, tears burning behind his closed eyelids. Her love was a fortress that even a wrecking ball couldn't tear down.

As he stood in her hold, feeling her warm heart beating against his chest, a sickening horror washed over him. One strike hadn't worked. To save her life, he was going to have to do something far worse.