You are not sorry?

There are cases of extreme anger that are classified as temporary madness. 

In cases of murder under such circumstances, good lawyers can argue that the person could not be blamed for their actions in those few minutes of temporal madness.

They had genuinely been crazy at the time.

That was the exact emotion Myra felt as she saw her own father thrusting in and out of her fiancé. 

For over two minutes after that, her mind worked separately from her body.

Her limbs moved and did things her brain did not register, and the room took on a red tint.

Before that night, she always thought the I SAW RED phrase was some creative nonsense.

But tonight, as the city continued to bustle just below, Aiden’s bedroom took on a red color, like some insane TikTok filter.

She staggered into the room, ignoring the pain that burst from her ankles every time her legs twisted to the side in her high heels, from shaking so much.

She picked up the bedside lamp, yanking it with the cord, and hurled it at her father’s head. 

He narrowly dodged it, and only then did the pair notice there was a third person in the room.

They had really been going to town, deaf to the world in their lust.

“You bastards!” She shrieked in an ear-deafening scream, her body bending forward, unable to remain straight as it took all the last strength in her shivering body to scream.

She took her shoes off and hurled them at Aiden, heels first.

One caught him in the ear as he struggled to pull his pants on, and he began to bleed.

She could not even bear to look at her father.

She should not have to see him like this. She should not have to see her own biological father’s nakedness.

“You pigs!” She screamed through her tears, throwing everything her hands could grab. She ran to Aiden’s display shelf and cleared all the medals and awards to the floor.

She sent one decorative glass sculpture, flying after a ceramic one, and then a granite one. 

She aimed side stools at their large chests. 

She attacked them with every damn thing her hands could find as they ran around, desperate to get a break so they could put on their clothes.

She stumped on their clothes scattered all over the floor. 

Why did she not think to bring her gun? Why did she not bring her f*cking gun?

“Stop it, Myra.” Aiden said in a pleading voice, avoiding all the missiles she hurled at him. 

The mirrors in his room all lay shattered now, and she began to see dents in his floor to ceiling windows.

“Get a grip.” Her father finally barked. “I did not give you leave to speak to me like that.” 

Myra froze and turned bloodshot, unbelieving eyes towards him.

“What did you just f*cking say?”

“Language, Myra. I am your father.” He said strongly, finally standing straight in a tank top and suit pants.

She laughed in disbelief, and her laughter came out sounding like a Maniac’s. 

“You are nobody’s father.” She said in a quiet whisper. “How can you even look at me after what you have done?” She finally yelled. “You have no shame.” 

Her blood began to steam as she watched him stand in his usual arrogant, domineering way once again.

“Keep talking and you’ll be suspended.”

Myra gasped, one of Aiden’s medals falling from her hand. 

She stepped back in shock. 

“You’re not sorry?” The question popped out of her mouth in disbelief.

“Myra.” Aiden said gently, and she turned to look at him, and then the man who had brought her to this world. 

She bent down suddenly and picked up the medal with a sharp edge.

She ran for her father and raised the medal high to strike him before any of the men could even react.

But she was not tall enough. She barely managed to slash through his half naked chest. 

Blood sprayed everywhere as her father fell to his knees.

She raised her hand to strike again when she felt something heavy crash against her head from behind, and her body fell without a struggle to the ground.

She saw Aiden’s face floating above hers, before her eyes finally closed in darkness as a tear ran down the side of her eye.

When Myra woke up, it was morning, and she was lying on a couch in her living room. 

She tried to get up, but pain exploded in her head.

She yelped, and fell back on the couch. 

She lay that way for a while, and slowly attempted to open her eyes again.

She waited for a few more minutes to pass before she carefully sat up. 

Her vision went black for two seconds, but the pain was not as bad anymore.

She looked at the coffee table and saw an almost empty bottle of red wine, and a cup of painkillers knocked over with pills spilling out of it.

She frowned, trying to remember how she got home last night. 

She remembered herself at the farmer’s market, she remembered cooking excitedly. Did she not go to Aiden’s anymore?

She looked down to see she was in one of her comfortable Pajamas. 

She suddenly remembered Aiden’s face floating above hers, but trying to think of anything before or after that caused terrible pain to her head.

She gripped her head and groaned in pain. 

What happened to her?

She stood up and walked to the bathroom, realizing how late she was already for work. 

She let warm water run down her body in the shower for as long as she could before she hurried into her room to get dressed. 

As she pulled on a pair of leather pants, a turtle-neck shirt, and tied her hair up in a low bun, she tried to think of last night again.

But her head protested and she winced in pain. 

When she hurried to her kitchen to grab a bowl of cereal, she stopped short. 

The meal she made last night lay on the kitchen island, unpacked.

Did she really not go to Aiden’s then? Then where did the image of his face floating above hers last night come from?

She shook her head, and rushed out of her apartment without eating. 

Myra drove fast, just under the speed limit, and managed to get to the office in record time, but she was still very late.

As she hurried out of the elevator, she ran into Greg who was going out with another of her male colleagues.

“Whoah.” he exclaimed.

“I know.” She grimaced nervously. She was never late.

“The chief is in a foul mood. You are so cooked.” Greg said with a sympathetic face.

She nodded and hurried towards their office.

As she walked towards her desk, all her colleagues looked at her in surprise, and she smiled apologetically at them.

“Rough night?” Jess asked, as Myra pulled out her seat.

“I guess.”

“Myra.” She heard Aiden’s booming voice from his office and her back stiffened. She was really in trouble. 

She dropped her bag on the chair, pushed it back in and hurried to his office.

She could not meet his eyes as he walked away from his desk towards her. She stood stiffly at attention.

“Are you slacking off on purpose because your bosses are family?” He asked in a low tone.

“No, sir.” She kept her eyes on the wall behind him.

“Why are you almost one hour late for work?”

She squinted as even trying to remember anything began to make her head hurt again.

Aiden leaned down, and his face came into her line of sight. His eyes were dark and suspicious. “Where were you last night?”

“I don’t know,” She said honestly.

He barked out a bitter laugh and stepped back. “You don’t know. Are you cheating on me, Myra?”

Her eyes widened as her body slackened into ease. “God, no.”

“Then what kind of ridiculous answer was that?” He barked. 

She stiffened and looked away again. A knock came on the door and one of the officers poked his head in.

“The chief wants you, captain.”

Aiden looked from the officer to her. Then he picked up a stack of files and roughly pushed it onto her chest.

“Get to work and stop slacking around.” He barked. “I need that within the hour.”

She looked at him as tears stung her eyes. Was this really her fiancé? Why was he always so cold to her at work? 

She did not expect him to show favoritism, of course, but he never treated the rest of her colleagues like this.

“Yes sir.” She said, and briskly walked out of his office back to her desk. 

She pulled a cup of painkillers out of her desk drawer and dry swallowed.

Barely thirty minutes had passed when Aiden showed up to her desk with more files. “Are you done? Do this too.”

She bent her head in humiliation.

“How can he treat you like this for being late just once?” Jess whispered as he walked away. “Especially when you spent the night with him.”

Myra turned wide eyes to her. “How did you know?”

Jess flinched, surprised at her intensity. 

“You seemed so excited in the parking lot yesterday. And I passed you some hours later in traffic driving towards his place when I went to pick Reign up from daycare.”

Myra’s jaw fell.

“I called out to you, but I guess you did not see me. Your hair was so beautiful. You should let it down from time to time.”

A searing pain sliced through Myra’s head. And then she remembered.