Page 48 of My Ruthless Husband

Annoyance shadows his face. “Don’t act like a spoiled—”

“Don’t!” I shout. “Don’t you dare call me a spoiled princess again. Don’t you dare.” My eyes glisten as I try and fail to gather myself. “I am more than that, so much more. I am a human being with feelings you hurt over and over without an ounce of remorse.” My lower lip quivers. “Tell me, Damian. Remind me one instance where I demanded something from you.”

When I’m met with silence, I give him a sad smile, sniffling. “Can’t remember, can you? It’s because I’ve never demanded anything from you, never asked for more than your love, your time. My heart aches that you see me through such a distorted lens. I’m not a spoiled princess and you know it.”

“Control yourself,” he says with disgust and my face crumples. I draw my knees toward my chest. Burrowing my face on my folded forearms, I cry over my helplessness. I’m a pitifulwreck. A broken woman who couldn’t even carry a conversation without having a meltdown. I hate it. And I hate him.

Warm hands grip my bare upper arms, startling me. I jerk away, shoving him. “No!”

I shake my head. “No. You don’t get to break my heart and then try to fix it afterward.”

“I just wanted you to calm down. You’re already weak,” he sighs.

“And whose fault is this?”

His eyes search mine warily, and I hate it. I hate the way he looks at me like I’m some unstable woman on the verge of losing it.

“I don’t want to wait any longer. I’m ready to talk right now.”

“Very well.” He walks over to the chair opposite the bed. “Let’s start from the beginning. The day you went snooping in my office.”

“On our wedding anniversary, you mean.” I correct him.

“Semantics.”

I take a deep breath. “You need to understand something,” I begin, my voice steady but charged. “I’ve never gone through your things. Not once. That day, I went into your home office for a reason.”

“A reason?” He asks, folding his arms over his chest.

“Yes,” I grit my teeth. “I was there to hide your anniversary gift. I wanted it to be a surprise for you, something special.”

Damian merely narrows his eyes as I continue, “The door was unlocked, and I thought it would be the perfect place.” I pause, my voice tinged with bitterness. “But while I was looking for a spot to hide the gift, I found something I never expected.”

He sits stiffly, his face impassive.

“So you see, the problem here isn’t about me ‘snooping.’ It’s about the fact that I discovered you were hiding somethingcrucial, something that shattered the foundation of our relationship.”

“And what exactly did you find?” he asks, his focus entirely on me. He wants me to say it.

“Your meticulous research—about me, my family history, my dad’s business empire. You even had our schedules, our list of connections.”

“So you’re telling me you left me and ran away all because of a few files you stumbled across?”

“I knew you’d try to manipulate me. But I’m no fool, Damian. Remember when we met at that café after my summer break?” I don’t wait for his reply. “I was stunned when Hal brought me my favorite coffee and muffin—without me ever saying a word. But I was so caught up in you, I couldn’t realize how alarming that was until now. Only two people could know exactly what I order and how I take my coffee—the barista, or someone who’s been watching me.

“It didn’t take long to connect the dots after I saw those files. I didn’t pursue you, did I? You let me believe I did. So tell me, Damian... Am I right? All those ‘chance’ meetings, the moments I thought were fate... they were nothing but your calculated moves, weren’t they?”

Damian lets out a sigh. “What’s the point in answering that? You’ve already made up your mind that I’m at fault.”

I freeze. A delicate seed of hope begins to take root within me.

“Okay, then. Tell me, now. Tell me, please.” I scoot toward the edge of the bed, my arm straining where the drip is connected. “Just once.” I join my hands, intertwining them in a gesture of praying. “Tell me I’m wrong, that my accusations are baseless. I want to believe you. Despite all the evidence pointing to the fact that you married me for an ulterior motive, I still want to believe you’re not capable of this.” A tear slips from my eye. “I want to believe you’re not capable of breaking my heart so ruthlessly.”My heart aches as I replay our memories together. All those moments that felt so real.

“Those rare smiles, the way you looked at me... they can’t all be fabricated, can they? The warmth in your voice, the way you held me when I needed it most... I need those to be real. Please.” My voice cracks.

“Like I said, you’ve already made up your mind. Now you want me to deny it, to tell you your accusations are wrong. You think that’ll clear everything. But it won’t.”

“You don’t even want to try?” I ask softly.

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