Revenge Contract

Chapter 0002

Have you ever felt like your heart has been put in a mincer? That is how I feel right now looking at them. I feel like my heart has been shredded into pieces.

I wanted to run away. To look away, but I don't want him to see me feeling jealous of him. Unfortunately, Amory's phone rang, giving me the chance to leave the room.

A lump rose in my throat as I excused myself to the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face, trying to calm the storm inside me. But the feeling of inadequacy gnawed at me, replaying Elena’s words until they stung like open wounds.

Still dazed, I left the bathroom and hurried down the corridor, so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t see the figure approaching until we collided. I nearly stumbled backward in surprise, only to find myself staring into Amory’s eyes. His gaze widened at first, then softened with concern.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he exclaimed, reaching out to steady me. His touch was gentle, but there was something in his eyes I couldn’t ignore.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, my voice betraying the worry sparked by his look.

"My grandmother was rushed to the hospital. I received news telling me she fainted. I have to get going."

"What?" Shock knocked the air from my chest, pushing aside my own worries. "Should I get Elena to come too?" I pointed toward the room I had left.

"Why would you ask her?" His hand raked through his hair, those deadly gray eyes fixed on me.

"Well, it's about your grandmother. You should let Elena know since you two are having marriage talks, she'll be your family."

"Family?" His gaze dropped to my feet, his voice low, heavy with something I couldn’t read. I reminded myself it wasn’t my place to step into his matters—I already had my own.

"Oh, right. I forgot to thank you," I said suddenly, straightening my posture. "You took great care of my husband. Thank you so much." I bowed my head slightly, respecting the weight of what he was doing for my family.

"Are you their spokesperson? Why are you thanking me and talking to me on their behalf?"

"That is… because we are family," I mumbled, searching for something to say.

"Do you think they feel the same about you?" His words struck deeper than he knew. It was true I hadn’t been cared for, but I couldn’t let him insult my family—not in my presence, not even for me.

"Mr Amory, you're crossing the line."

He stepped forward, closing the space between us. I stepped back, my spine hitting the wall. His hand shot out, gripping mine firmly. Startled, I gasped, my heart racing as his piercing gray eyes pinned me in place.

"Answer me, Emma, are you really that dense? Or are you just pretending to be dense?"

"I don't know what you mean. Please let go of my hand." My voice shook. His temper was fierce, but at least he realized it. Slowly, he released me.

I sagged against the wall, trembling as I rubbed my wrist where his fingers had held me.

"I'm sorry. I made a mistake. I shouldn't have been involved in the first place. We won't be seeing each other again. Take care."

His words fell like stones. He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the hollow silence he left behind.

I stood frozen, stunned by the sharpness of his parting words. A careless remark, yet it cut like a blade, leaving a rift between us that felt impossible to mend.

Alone with my thoughts, I struggled to make sense of what had just transpired. Why would he say something like that despite knowing we are family? Or was it just a moment of thoughtlessness?

I decide to take my leave to ask Zayn what's wrong with both of us with Amory questions swirling in my mind.

Getting into the room, I'm unable to move further while watching my sister and my husband exchanging pleasantries, a pang of jealousy surged through me like a tidal wave. His smile, warm and affectionate, seemed to light up the room in a way I hadn't seen in ages. It was a smile I had longed for, a smile that had become all too rare in our own interactions.

Amory’s words replayed in my mind: Are you really that dense? Or are you just pretending to be dense?

Tears welled, my vision blurring. I stood by the door, watching their easy camaraderie, their laughter, their closeness. It broke me.

With a heavy heart, I turn and quietly slip out of the room, my footsteps muffled by the weight of my emotions. I didn't want them to see me like this, vulnerable and broken, consumed by feelings of inadequacy and insecurity.

I needed fresh air. I needed to cry and think. The moment I get outside the tears begin to fall. It f*****g hurt and I didn't know how to numb or stop the pain. But who could I blame? I was the one at fault for falling in love with a man who didn't love me.

"Please make it stop. Make the pain stop," I beg whichever higher power is there to listen to me. There is no answer anywhere.

My hands shoot to my chest. I feel my chest constricting. I couldn't get enough air into my lungs no matter what I tried. I felt like I was slowly dying. Slowly fading not just because of seeing my husband with my sister exchanging pleasantries with an ease and familiarity that seemed to mock the emptiness in my own relationship but his smile, so genuine and affectionate, was a stark contrast to the coldness I often felt in our interactions, and also the pain of been unwanted by my parents lead me to collapse against the wall, overcome by bitter sobs.

Lost in my own misery, I was startled by the sudden commotion as a group of police officers and reporters rushed past me, their voices adding to the chaos of the moment. Instinctively, I wiped away my tears, desperate to conceal my anguish from prying eyes.