ZARA
My fingers tightened around the steering wheel until my knuckles ached. I sat frozen inside my car, my heart was beating erratically against my chest. Across the street, in the doorway of a strange apartment, stood my fiancé’s secretary, Bianca, wearing nothing but a red lingerie.
And behind her was my fiancé.
Ryan.
The man I was supposed to marry in one week and become his chosen Luna.
The man whose he and I’s anniversary was today.
“Honey, did you order something else?” the woman asked, taking the food from the delivery guy.
I watched as she checked the receipt, her perfectly manicured fingers brushing over the paper.
“No,” Ryan’s voice came from behind her. “Hurry up and come back inside. We’re just getting started.”
Then he disappeared from view.
Bianca however, didn’t move from the spot she was. Her gaze dropped to the receipt again, then her eyes narrowed slightly. She had seen my name.
I had ordered garlic bread and sent it to this address because I needed proof. Because after seeing the transaction for red wine and chocolates on his app, after tracing the delivery location, after three days of Ryan claiming he was away on a work trip, some foolish part of me still wanted to believe there was an explanation.
She slowly lifted her gaze and looked around, until her eyes landed on me where I was packed just across the road. I could swear that a ghost of a smile touched her lips and as she disappeared back inside, she left the door slightly ajar. As though daring me to come catch him red handed.
My throat tightened as my fingers continued to tremble.
I knew the smartest thing to do would’ve been to drive away and disappear from his life forever, but my pathetic heart needed some confirmation whatever. Even when the truth was standing half-naked in a doorway.
So I opened the car door.
My legs felt weak as I stepped out and walked towards the apartment his mistress had openly invited me into.
The red wine and chocolates sat elegantly on the center table, adding to the room’s romantic ambience.
Bianca was seated on the couch, her legs spread wide, her head tipped back in pleasure.
And Ryan was kneeling between them, licking her like his life depended on it.
The knot of betrayal in my stomach twisted even tighter and I could barely breathe. Ryan had never done that to me. He had wrinkled his nose and told me he could never put his mouth there when I requested for it. That it was disgusting and full of bacteria. But here he was, on his knees for her. Doing everything he ever shamed me for.
“Baby. Did you say your fiancée was unattractive, inexperienced and a weak Omega who couldn’t satisfy you? And you couldn’t end this even after marrying her?” Bianca sneered, staring at me mockingly.
“Yes,” Ryan’s mouth made sloppy sound against her pussy, “I’ll always come to you.”
A sharp gasp tore from my throat.
My knees nearly gave out, and I slapped my palm against the wall to keep myself standing.
That was when Ryan finally noticed my presence and he jerked away from her.
“Zara,” he called wide eyes as he leapt to his feet, “what are you doing here?”
I stared at him. At his messy hair. At the same swollen lips that had told me he loved me over the video call this morning.
“Ryan...” my voice shook as I darted my gaze between him and his mistress, “you... is this work trip you told me you were going to? ”
“It’s not what you think,” he let out the cliché phrase every cheating man says when they got caught, making the blood in my veins boils so hot.
“It is exactly what I think. You had been away for three days, claiming to be on a work trip. You had my father’s heart surgery postponed because you were too busy to send the money. You made me do all the wedding planning alone. And all this time, you were here.....” The words died in my throat. Because suddenly, I realized how ridiculous I sounded. Why was I explaining his betrayal to him? When he knew exactly what he had done.
My chest, stomach, every single part in my body was tight with pain. I was so fucking numb. So very angry. But more than anything, I was too exhausted to even argue with him.
Without muttering another word, I turned around and headed for the door.
“Zara, wait.” He called as his hand wrapped around my arm.
“Don’t touch me.” My voice came out as a low dangerous warning.
“Please, just listen to me,” he said, tightening his grip. “You’re still the one I want to marry.”
And that was when I lost my fucking shit.
I struck him hard on the face.
His head turned with the force of it, his hand flying to his cheek. His eyes widened in shock, as though he could not believe I had done it. As though sweet, obedient Zara was supposed to stand there and cry quietly while he explained why his betrayal did not count.
He tried to reach for me again and I swat his hand away, “don’t you even dare. There is no wedding anymore. Call everyone and tell them. Your family. My family. The guests. Everyone.” My voice broke, but I forced the words out. “I will not be the one to clean up the mess you made.”
His face paled.
With that, I ran out of the apartment, my legs threatening to give up beneath me as I rushed to my car. The moment I climbed inside, the tears came running down. Fast and hot.
I had been so stupid to trust him. I should’ve known. All the late night meetings with her. All the sudden work trips. The way she’d stare at him and All the times I had asked questions and he had laughed, kissed my forehead, and told me I was overthinking.
I had love him. I had trusted him. And he fucking made a fool of me. He told her I was unattractive, inexperienced and a weak omega.
My chest ached so badly I pressed my palm against it, as though I could hold the broken pieces of myself together.
I couldn’t do this alone. I needed comfort. Anything. And there was only one person I could call.
My hands trembling, I picked up the phone and dialled my bestfriend’s number. Mia.
“Where are you?” She asked her, her voice dripping with a mixture of rage and concern the moment I finished narrating everything that happened.
“I’m still outside the apartment.” I wiped my face with the back of my hand, as I turned on the car’s ignition, “But I’m leaving. I’m going to a bar. There’s one around the corner.”
I couldn’t survive the night sober. I needed to drink to numb away the pain. .
“Text me the address. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Mia said.
The bar was dimly lit and soft music played in the background. I slid onto one of the stools by the counter and gestured for the bartender to come closer.
“What can I get you?” he asked.
“Something strong please,” I told him, “So strong that I will not remember my name after taking it.”
“Got you,” he said and turned around. A moment later, he placed a shot in front of me.
I grabbed it and swallowed it in one gulp.
I kept requesting for shots after shots, until I could barely feel my face anymore. But no matter how much I drank, the image I had been trying so hard to erase refused to leave my head.
Ryan on his knees, sucking her off like his life depended on it. What he had made me feel disgusting for wanting.
He would rather be with his secretary on the night of our anniversary than be with me. He would rather kneel before her and give her head than do that to me. He said I was unattractive, weak and inexperienced.
A suddenly laugher burst from my throat, and I slammed my palm on the counter. That was so funny. Wasn’t it?
He had planned to marry me and keep me as his perfect little wife. His innocent bride. His respectable trophy. The woman he could take home to his parents, smile beside in wedding photos, and parade around like proof that he had chosen well.
And then he would keep his secretary on the side. For pleasure.
While I remained in a sexless marriage for the rest of my life. His audacity was unnerving.
What was wrong with me that made so undesirable to him? Was it my body? The small pouch on my lower belly that never seemed to go away no matter how much I tried to hide it?
Bianca had a flat stomach and Smooth skin. Maybe that was what he wanted. I was never enough for him.
I lifted my arm and sniffed myself. Did I smell bad?
Oh God. A fresh wave of humiliation washed over me and I reached for the next glass to take another shot. But before I could lift it, a hand closed around mine.
The glass was gently taken from my fingers, then the stranger beside me lifted it to his lips and drank it himself.
My eyes widened in disbelief and as I flipped my gaze at him, I froze.
The man standing beside me was devastatingly handsome. Tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a black suit that hugged his ripped body perfectly. His black hair was neatly styled, and his eyes as green as the forest.
He looked at-least ten years older, but his face could make one lose their home training without a second thought.
“Rough night?” he asked.
His voice was deep. Smooth. Masculine enough to send a shiver down my spine.
I blinked at him.
Then I laughed.
“Rough night?” I repeated, giggling senselessly. “That’s an understatement. My night is catastrophic” I hiccupped, “My fiancé, the man I’m supposed to marry in a few days, decided to celebrate our anniversary by sleeping with his secretary.”
I laughed again, “how cute right?”
He studied me for a moment, his eyes boring into mine as though he could see right through my soul, “your fiancé is an idiot. Who fumbles a beautiful woman like you?”
“Beautiful?” I hiccupped, “you think I am beautiful?”
“Anyone who thinks otherwise is a fool,” He sat on the stool beside mine, resting one hand on the counter.
My heart gave a little flutter and heat burned my cheeks.
He leaned in so close that, that I could feel his hot breath on my face. my skin prickled, the hair on my neck raised and for some reason, heat rushed to the pit of my stomach.
“What would you like me to do for you? ” he suddenly asked, “could be anything at all. I am...” his eyes dropped to my lips and lingered for a second, “at your service.”
The heat burning the pit of my stomach licked its way down to my pussy, setting it on fire. An idea sparked in my head and before I could stop myself, I leaned closer, “I want you to prove to me that I am beautiful. And desirable.”
His eyes darkened immediately, “How?”
“I want you to fuck me!” I breathed.
Mag-log in
4
Iulat
Rebyu