6.

“Adrian?”

My voice cracked, weak and trembling, the name tearing from my throat like glass. My eyes stung as the scene before me burned into my brain.

Adrian was there inside Kira. My cousin’s back was arched, her nails digging into his shoulders, her laughter mingling with his guttural moans. They didn’t even stop when I opened the door.

Adrian looked at me. He looked and yet he didn’t stop. His thrusts grew rougher, Kira’s moans and whimpers blend with the sound of his own primal groans, filling the room.

She kept shaking as she came. Adrian followed, groaning in orgasm, his body jerking in ways he’d never with me.

I couldn’t breathe. My hand clutched the doorframe, nails cutting into the wood. My legs trembled, refusing to move. When it was over, Kira rolled lazily off his body, a satisfied grin curling her lips. “Oh, don’t look so shocked, cuz.”

Adrian pulled on his trousers, but instead of guilt, there was only irritation in his eyes. “What are you doing here, Emily?” His voice cut sharp as glass. “Spying? You really have no shame.”

The words knocked the air out of me. “Adrian… how could you? With my cousin?”

Kira draped a robe across her shoulders, strutting toward me like she owned the house. Her perfume, sweet and suffocating, filled my nose. “Correction, darling. He was mine first. You were the consolation prize.”

I shook my head violently. “No Adrian is my husband. You...”

“Your husband?” Kira laughed, kissing his cheek as though to claim him in front of me. “Adrian was only playing house with you until I returned. Tell her, love.”

Adrian’s face hardened, voice laced with contempt. “Did you really think I married you out of love? Our families wanted to strengthen their ties and that forced me to you. You know what you are Emily? A placeholder.”

Kira’s smirk deepened, her eyes glittering like venom. “And with that weight and round face… you were always second best.”

The words pierced me deeper than any blade.

“Adrian, please don’t do this.

He sneered. “You’re barren. Pathetic. A wife in name only. Stop humiliating yourself and sign the divorce papers.”

Tears blinded me. “And yet you call me a slut when it’s you both defiling our vows!”

Kira gasped dramatically, then slapped me across the cheek. I staggered back, my skin burning. She raised her hand to strike again.

“Enough!”

I grabbed her wrist mid air, my palm trembling, then shoved it aside. This time, I slapped her instead. The sharp crack echoed through the room.

“Emily!”

The new voice froze me. My heart stilled.

Vincent.

He stormed in, eyes blazing, his presence pulling all air from the room. His gaze locked on me not Kira, not Adrian me. Before I could explain, Kira flew into his arms, sobbing prettily. “She slapped me, Vincent!”

I gasped. “She...she...”

Vincent’s hand clamped around my wrist like iron, jerking me away. His grip hurt, his eyes colder than I’d ever seen. “Have you no shame, Emily? Attacking your own cousin in front of her husband? In front of everyone?”

Husband? My stomach dropped. He knew. He knew they were together.

“Vincent, you don’t understand...”

“I understand enough.” His jaw tightened. “You’ve embarrassed this family for the last time.”

Before I could argue, he dragged me from the room, my pleas ignored, my wrist throbbing.

Outside, the night air hit me like a slap, but Vincent didn’t slow. He shoved me into his car and slammed the door.

“Vincent, you’re hurting me!” I cried, clutching my wrist.

“Shut your mouth before I shut it for you,” he growled, slamming the engine to life. “You will do as I say.”

The car sped through the city lights until it screeched to a stop outside an upscale boutique. I blinked, confused. “Why are we here?”

His glare cut me down. “You’ll pick up Kira’s dress. My gift to her. Then you’ll deliver it and apologize for disgracing her.”

My lips parted in disbelief. “Apologize? For...”

“For everything.” His voice was final, brooking no defiance.

He strode ahead, leaving me to stumble behind. Inside, while the staff fussed over him, I stood in the corner like a shadow, holding my aching wrist.

When he handed me the bag, his lips curled cruelly. “Try not to ruin it. And wipe that pathetic look off your face...everyone’s staring. You’re embarrassing me.”

I bit my tongue until I tasted blood.

We stepped outside. Vincent answered a call, distracted, while I shifted the heavy garment bag in my arms. My vision blurred from exhaustion, the pavement tilting.

The world tilted...my knees buckled...

Strong hands caught me.

I gasped, my face pressed against a solid chest, my senses flooded with sandalwood. My heart raced as I looked up...into steel-gray eyes colder than winter.

He steadied me, his grip unyielding. “Careful now,” he murmured, voice low and smooth. “One wrong step and you could become history.”

Heat rushed through me at the weight of his gaze. My lips parted, words caught in my throat.

“I...I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He studied me, then pressed a water bottle into my hand. His fingers brushed my chin lightly, almost mockingly. “Its okay Pretty little Darling,” he said, the words laced with dark amusement.

His eyes lingered, then he released me, walking away as though I’d already been forgotten. But I hadn’t forgotten. Not for a heartbeat.

By the time I staggered back to Vincent, my heart was still racing. “You’re so slow,” Vincent snapped. “Always dragging your feet. Useless.”

I swallowed the sting of his words, clutching the dress tighter.

When we returned home, I handed the gown over to Kira without a word, then escaped to my room. My body ached, but I had barely collapsed on the bed when shouts erupted downstairs.

My name. Again.

I rushed down, nearly colliding with Vincent at the foot of the stairs. His hand shoved me aside, his expression dark with fury.

In the center of the room, Kira wept dramatically, clutching the dress against her chest. Adrian’s arm curled protectively around her.

“She ruined it!” Kira wailed. “The gown is destroyed! I can’t wear it now.”

Guests whispered, their eyes turning on me with judgment. My heart sank, dread coiling in my stomach. I didn’t need proof. I already knew.

Kira had framed me. Again.