Page 40 of My Ruthless Husband

The midday sunlight streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the opulent space with a warm, golden glow. The air is filled with a subtle hint of freshly cut flowers.

My eyes drift toward the head of the table, where my husband is sitting with an air of authority. The soft glow of sunlight highlights his profile, casting a gentle halo around him.

His beauty is so captivating, it’s easy to mistake him for an angel. I certainly did when I first laid eyes on him. But astime passed, I recognized the darkness that lingers within his handsome features.

I stare at his fingers which are wrapped around his phone and feel the heat rising, tinting my cheeks red. Only moments ago, those same fingers were caressing my cheek, trailing down the curve of my throat. Shame trickles through me as I try and fail to evoke hate for this man.

His dark head tilts up and his eyes land on me. The icy detachment leaves me grappling with the ache in my chest.

No time in this world would be enough to get over the failure of my first love. And every time I glance at him, the betrayal slaps me across the face.

“Do I need to carry you to the chair or can you handle sitting down yourself?”

“No need for that.” I say before taking the chair opposite him at the far end.

“Good. It’s better when you don’t act like your true self.”

Every muscle in my body tenses. “My true self?”

“Entitled little princess.”

I flinch, then quickly mask the hurt with a forced smile. “You know me so well, husband.”

That makes his jaw tick.

Is he disappointed that I didn’t take the bait? Did he expect me to lash out, to give him something in a fit of rage that he could twist and use against me later?

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I do, don’t I?”

I lower my eyes, focusing on the soup in front of me. Just as I lift a spoon to my lips, his voice breaks through the silence. “Does it run in the family?”

I freeze, the spoon suspended in mid-air. The color drains from my face as I set it down slowly. “What?”

“This,” he gestures toward me. “This. Using people when it suits you, then discarding them when you’re bored.”

I frown, genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You claim to love me, yet you walked away without a second thought. After everything I’ve given you—the luxurious lifestyle and everything money can buy... So why did you run?”

When I remain silent, he presses on. “How did it feel, living without all the luxury this past month? How did you manage without the cards, the chauffeur, the car?”

I begin to tremble. Damian watches, his eyes not leaving me.

“I’m surprised you didn’t rush back to Daddy. Then again, it would have been pointless, wouldn't it? He doesn't want you.”

My chin wobbles. “That’s not true.”

“No?” he taunts. “Come on, River. You know your father. He loathes you. He’d slam the door in your face the moment you showed up.”

“Shut up.” I bite my quivering lower lip.

“You’ve always been unwanted—”

“Stop it!” I cover my ears. “Please! Stop!” I shout desperately.

He’s never been this cruel before—never openly attacked me or disrespected me. He was distant, yes, indifferent, but never like this. But now he has changed. For the worse.

Did I really leave my father for this? Did I truly go against everything I knew, everyone who cared for me, just for this man—this man who’s now treating me worse than anyone would treat their sworn enemy?

---