Page 55 of My Ruthless Husband

He’s doing this on purpose, deliberately making me wait, intentionally dragging out the silence, delaying the conversation just to get under my skin.

After he lights the cigarette, he takes a long, slow drag, allowing the tip to glow a bright orange before he exhales. The smoke billows out from his lips as he leans back in his chair, still watching me.

Despite his relaxed and nonchalant posture, I can’t ignore the cold fury lurking in his eyes.

When I ask about my phone again through gritted teeth, he just watches me. After several beats, he finally lifts his hand, cigarette still between his fingers, and gestures toward the desk.

I quickly notice my phone, its lavender case clearly visible on the desk.

My brow furrows. I pause for a second, unsure of what he’s playing at. After everything that went down earlier, why would he give me my phone back so easily? But I don’t waste time questioning it—I reach for it and grab it.

There are several missed calls and text messages from Summer, all filled with concern about my safety. Without hesitation, I start typing a message to let her know that I’m safe and sound.

“Are you really?” My husband’s voice startles me from behind, and I jump in surprise. I hadn’t even noticed him leave his chair, let alone come over to stand behind me and read what I’d typed.

He snatches my phone from my hand.

I freeze, my heart sinking. “What are you doing?” I demand, panic creeping into my voice as I watch him type on my phone.

He doesn’t answer, his focus entirely on the screen. I try to grab the phone back, but he steps back out of my reach.

“What the hell, Damian? Why are you acting like a child?”

In an instant, he’s right there, he grips the back of my neck, forcing my head to tilt up. “And what the hell were you doing earlier, hmm?” His voice is icy, his expression colder.

He leans in closer, his breath a chilling whisper. “You know what’s really childish, angel? Ripping the drip from your arm and making yourself bleed just because things weren’t going your way. Now,thatis childish.”

The area covered in bandage begin to throb at his reminder. “I didn’t mean to,” I murmur, my voice tinged with regret. “I wasn’t in my senses. But you don’t care, so it doesn’t matter anyway.”

In a cutting tone, he says, “Impulsive as always.” He releases me as if touching me contaminated him. “Some things never change, do they? You were never the one to think things through. Like going after me even when I showed no interest.”

I flinch at the reminder of how crazy I was for him. Something inside me aches as he mocks my love.

“Don’t tell her. I don’t want to worry her,” I admit quietly.

“Oh, how noble of you,” he taunts, and I tremble at the open contempt on his face. “Always thinking of others.”

“Please stop.”

Throwing my phone on the desk, he takes hold of my upper arms and yanks me toward him. “Stop what?” His grip tightens painfully, and I flinch as fingers bite into my skin. “Why did you hurt yourself?” he interrogates, his face inches from mine. His eyes blaze with fury, scanning my face.

When I don’t say anything, he shakes me.

I swallow hard, struggling to find the right words. How can I make him understand the pain I’ve been going through? How do I tell him that when it comes to him, I completely lose myself and become this woman who’s forever starved for his adoration? How do I tell him that I love him more than life itself? So much so that my wellbeing doesn’t matter.

When he accused me of jumping to conclusions and running away without talking to him first, a small hope ignited inside me.

I thought maybe my suspicions were baseless. That maybe, just maybe, there was a glimmer of the man I used to love left in him.

But all I see now is the man who despises me.

Tears well up in my eyes as I struggle to explain, “I wasn’t... I thought—”

He cuts me off. “You thought what? That hurting yourself would solve anything?”

He doesn’t get it. He never will. “Why do you even care?” I finally snap, my voice filled with frustration.

“I don’t,” he declares coldly, releasing me. His icy tone sends shivers down my spine.

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