Chapter Six

NOORIA

“What the actual fuck, bitch!" Fiona walks into our shared office, a look of disbelief marring her pretty face. “You got married? To Valentino Delucca? And you didn't tell me?"

I sigh as she flops into the one of the seats opposite me. She doesn't look happy and honestly, I didn't expect her to be. She's my best friend and she still doesn't know about Marcus. If there's one thing Fiona hates, it's being confused.

I shake my head as I stare down at my phone, at the picture of Me and Valentino in the courthouse. Valentino has me by the waist as he devours my lips in a brutal kiss. Next to it is another picture of our marriage license.

That's it!

No caption, no explanation, nothing!

My parents have been blowing up my phone, trying to get through to me but I haven't taken any of their calls. If their text messages are any indication, Baba’s mad as hell.

I'll have to go there eventually to get my work stuffs and laptop and other belongings, but that'll be later.

“Why didn't you tell me?" Fiona whines, leaning in.

“ I'm sorry, Fi. Everything just happened so fast, I didn't have time to even think it through."

“Tell me everything."

And I do. From the graduation, to Marcus cheating, to Faiza getting me drugged and sending me to her finance's room, to the sex and the media in the morning, to Baba forcing me to marry the sultan's son and finally Valentino showing up at our home and threatening me to marry him.

By the time I'm finished she's staring at me with an expression of both shock and excitement.

“Oooohhhhh, girl!" She screams holding her hands together in front of her. “You hit the jackpot girl! Valentino Delucca is every woman's dream!”

I shake my head. " Not mine, Fi. He was my sister's fiance remember?”

She rolls her eyes and throws her hands in the air. " She didn't want him remember? Now he's YOUR husband and you have something most girls would kill for."

I sigh and shake my head, knowing that this marriage is nothing but an arrangement and he's only interested in having a baby with me. I'm nothing special like Fiona is trying to make it seem.

" He doesn't like me or anything like that, Di,” I tell her. " Faiza won't marry him and he needs someone to breed him babies like a fucking rabbit so after the scandal I'm the best option.”

She rolls her eyes as she rises to her feet and heads to her side of the office. She takes a seat at her desk and pulls open one of the drawers and starts shuffling in it

Her phone rings and she instantly picks it up, her eyes narrowing at the caller id. An argument rises between her and her dad who if I'm guessing correct, wasted a huge sum of money on gambling. AGAIN!

Fiona Meadows has been my best friend since forever and the strongest person I know. She's looked after her gambler dad, six of her siblings ever since she was nine. We've been working at SKYLINE for two years ever since we graduated from college. But unlike me, she didn't further her studies.

I envy her and her sense of freedom. Her life is shit but at least she's not kept on a leash by her parents and told what she can and can't do.

I'm not on a leash anymore, I guess. I'm someone's wife now. But I guess that's another type of leash, especially when my husband is Valentino Delucca.

The thought barely settles when the office door flies open with a violent bang.

Marcus storms in, an SKYLINE employee trailing desperately behind him, clutching at his sleeve. “Sir, you can’t just barge in here—security is on the way!”

“Get the fuck off me!” Marcus snarls, shaking the man loose like he’s nothing. His eyes lock on me immediately—wild, bloodshot, filled with a rage that makes my stomach drop. His shirt is wrinkled, hair sticking up in every direction, and he smells like he’s been drinking since yesterday. He looks unhinged.

The small crowd that was already lingering in the hallway because of Fiona’s earlier scream, eager to hear some gossip grows fast. Heads pop up from cubicles, phones come out, and whispers ripple through the open-plan office like wildfire.

“You cheating slut!” Marcus yells, marching straight to my desk and slamming both hands down so hard my monitor shakes. “You couldn’t even wait one fucking day? I make one mistake and you run off and marry that mafia piece of shit? Valentino Delucca? Are you serious right now?”

I push my chair back, heart hammering against my ribs. “Marcus, get out. This isn’t the place…”

“Not the place?” He laughs, the sound ugly and broken. “You let the whole world watch you get fucked by him the same night I was with Sarah and suddenly *I’m* the bad guy? The internet is blowing up with pictures of you—bruises on your neck, you in his bed, that courthouse kiss like you’re some kind of whore in heat!”

Fiona is on her feet instantly, stepping between us. “Marcus, you need to leave. Now. Before I call security myself.”

He doesn’t even look at her. His glare stays pinned on me. “I was going to apologize, Nooria. I was going to fix it. But you? You spread your legs for a criminal the second you had the chance. You were supposed to be mine. The good Muslim girl everyone respected. And now you’re his wife? His *property*? You’re disgusting. A filthy, backstabbing slut who opened her thighs for the first dangerous dick that looked her way!”

The crowd is thick now, engineers, accountants, even the receptionist from the front desk. Phones are recording openly. Someone mutters, “Is that the guy from the scandal?” Another voice whispers, “She really married Delucca?”

Heat floods my face, shame and anger twisting together. “I didn’t cheat on you,” I say, voice shaking but loud enough for everyone to hear. “You cheated on *me*. On our couch. On graduation day. While I was still happy to share my news with you. I dumped you, that’s it. I didn’t owe you anything after that.”

Marcus leans in closer, spit flying. “Bullshit! You were texting me that morning, acting all innocent, and by night you’re letting Valentino Delucca fuck you raw. You think I don’t know what those bruises mean? You liked it, didn’t you? You liked being treated like a whore. That’s why you married him so fast; because you’re nothing but a desperate little slut who…”

“Enough!” Fiona snaps, shoving his shoulder hard. “You cheated. You got caught. She dumped your annoying ass. Move on before you make this worse.”

But Marcus is beyond listening. He rounds on me again, voice rising to a shout that echoes through the entire floor. “Admit it, Nooria! You were never the innocent girl you pretended to be. You were just waiting for an excuse to spread your legs for someone richer, someone more dangerous. Valentino probably laughed when he found out you were still a pathetic virgin before he ruined you. And now you’re parading around with his ring like you didn’t betray everyone who ever cared about you! He was your sister’s fiance for fucks sake.”

My hands are trembling. Tears burn at the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. The crowd is murmuring louder now—some people looking uncomfortable, others filming with glee. I can already see the new headlines forming in real time.

I open my mouth to respond—something, anything—but the words stick.

Then a single, deafening gunshot cracks through the office.

The sound is so loud it feels like it punches straight through my chest. Marcus’s eyes widen in shock. His mouth opens, but no sound comes out. A bright red bloom spreads across the center of his white shirt, right over his heart.

He staggers backward one step. Two. His hand flies up to the wound like he can hold the blood in. It pours between his fingers, dark and fast.

Then his knees buckle.

He collapses hard onto the carpet, body twitching once before going still. Blood pools beneath him, soaking into the gray fibers in a growing circle.

For one frozen second, the entire office is silent.

Then chaos explodes.

Screams rip through the air. Chairs scrape backward. People run in every direction—some toward the exits, some ducking behind desks. Fiona lunges for me, grabbing my arm and yanking me down behind my desk with her. Her body is shaking against mine.

“Oh my God—oh my God—” she keeps repeating.

I can’t breathe. My ears are ringing. All I can see is Marcus’s lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling, blood still leaking from the corner of his mouth.

“I really hate when people don't get the memo about not touching what is mine," a deep masculine voice sighs.

That voice.