chapter 8

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Never

Sandra’s heart was hammering against her ribs like it wanted to escape her chest.

Please don’t open it. Please don’t open it.

That was the only prayer she could form, a silent mantra repeating over and over as Ryan bent down slowly, fingers brushing against the white paper on the polished floor.

From where she stood, the paper looked like a loaded gun. One wrong move, and everything would blow up.

She wanted to blink and make it disappear. She wanted to run, snatch it from his hands, burn it before his eyes could read the two words that would shatter her carefully built wall of secrets.

She closed her eyes tightly, her nails digging crescents into her palms. It’s over. He’s going to know. Everyone’s going to know.

Ryan unfolded the paper with maddening slowness, one crease at a time.

Sandra’s breath caught. The room had gone deathly quiet. Even the music from the party seemed muffled, distant, like she was underwater.

Then

Tune. Tune.

Ryan’s phone rang, sharp and sudden, cutting through the tension like a knife.

He glanced at the screen, frowned, and without another look at the paper, he dropped it onto the floor and walked away to answer the call.

Sandra exhaled so hard she felt dizzy. Her hand flew to her chest as if to hold her heart in place.

Gosh he nearly saw it.

The relief was short lived.

Jasmine had already moved. Her eyes were locked on the paper on the floor, curiosity and malice burning in them. Before Sandra could react, Jasmine bent down and picked it up.

Sandra’s blood ran cold.

No The word tore out of her throat before she could stop it.

She lunged forward, desperation giving her speed. Her fingers closed around Jasmine’s wrist as she yanked the paper away, crumpling it in her fist.

She didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to. She just turned, determined to get away before Jasmine could see anything.

But Jasmine wasn’t done.

With a sudden, vicious pull, Jasmine grabbed the back of Sandra’s dress and yanked her backward.

Sandra’s balance shattered. The world tilted.

Thud.

The back of her head slammed against the marble floor. Pain exploded through her skull, white and blinding. A groan escaped her lips as she lay there, clutching her waist, her vision swimming.

Jasmine’s mocking laughter rang out, loud and cruel. Look at her. Pathetic.

Tears burned at the corners of Sandra’s eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of them. Not in front of him.

She struggled to sit up, one hand pressed against her aching waist, her body trembling from more than just pain.

Then

Kpaa.

The sound echoed through the silent room.

Jasmine staggered back, clutching her cheek, eyes wide with shock. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. The sting of the slap had stunned her into stillness.

When her vision cleared, she turned to face Sandra, and what she saw made her take a step back.

Sandra was standing. Barely. Her eyes were bloodshot, her jaw clenched, her entire body shaking with barely contained rage. Her hand was still raised, fingers trembling.

But beneath the anger at Jasmine was something deeper. Something darker.

If not for Ryan’s cruelty. If not for his betrayal. If not for the way he made me feel worthless in my own home… what right do you have to throw me to the ground?

The thought burned in her chest like acid.

Sandra’s voice came out low, cold, and dripping with venom. You think you can touch me? You think you can humiliate me in my own house?

Jasmine’s mouth dropped open. She still had her hand on her cheek, tears already forming but they weren’t from pain. They were calculated.

And then she saw him.

Jasmine’s expression shifted instantly. Her tears fell freely as she spotted Ryan approaching from across the room.

Sandra, Ryan’s voice was sharp, urgent. He rushed to Jasmine’s side, pulling her gently into his arms.

He wiped her tears away with his silk handkerchief the same one he’d given Sandra on their wedding day. The one she’d kept folded in her drawer for two years, untouched.

His eyes searched Jasmine’s face, filled with concern that Sandra hadn’t seen directed at her in years.

She slapped me, jasmine sobbed, pointing a trembling finger at Sandra. I was only trying to help her up after she fell. And she… she hit me.

Sandra stood there, spine straight, arms crossed. She didn’t defend herself. She was tired of defending herself.

Ryan’s eyes snapped to Sandra, cold and furious. The venom in his gaze could have cut glass.

You dare hit her? His voice was low, but it carried across the room. You dare lay a hand on her?

He turned to Jasmine, his tone softening instantly, almost tender. Honey… what punishment would you like her to have?

Jasmine sniffled, leaning into him like a child seeking comfort. She wiped her fake tears and clung to Ryan’s arm, her eyes flicking to Sandra with a triumphant glint.

I want her to kneel, Jasmine whispered. And apologize to me. With a glass of wine.

Ryan smiled. It wasn’t kind. It was cold, calculated.

He walked to the bar table, picked up a crystal wine glass, and poured red wine into it until it was half full. He didn’t look at Sandra as he handed it to her.

Kneel and apologize to her with this glass of wine, he said. It wasn’t a request. It was an order. His voice left no room for refusal.

The room went silent. Guests watched with bated breath, some with pity, most with cruel amusement.

Sandra stared at the glass in his hand. The red liquid swirled like blood.

Kneel. For her. For the woman who ruined my marriage. For the woman he loves more than me.

The humiliation was suffocating. It pressed down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

For a second, she almost did it. Almost bent her knees just to end this nightmare. Just to get out of here without another scene.

But then she thought of the paper in her pocket. The tiny life she was protecting. The child who would never know a father who made their mother kneel for another woman.

Her head snapped up.

Sandra took the glass from Ryan’s hand. Her fingers were steady now. Calm.

She raised her head slowly, meeting his eyes without fear.

Then, without a moment’s hesitation

Smash.

The glass shattered against the marble floor, red wine spraying across Ryan’s expensive shoes and Jasmine’s white dress like blood.

Pieces of crystal scattered everywhere, sharp and dangerous.

The room gasped.

Sandra stood over the broken glass, her chest rising and falling with controlled fury. Her eyes were red, but not from tears. From fire.

Never, she said. The word was quiet, but it cut through the silence like a blade.

Never will I kneel for her. Never will I apologize for defending myself. And never… will I let you break me again.

Everywhere stood calm