Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Woman He Broke: Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

I started moving to the rhythm, letting the beat take me. I moved in sync with the drunk man, encouraging him, letting him believe I was into it. He spun around, laughing, and his hands reached for mine. At first, it felt like a harmless game. I was in control. Or so I thought.The crowd cheered, egging us on, and I felt my confidence rising. But then, the man’s grip tightened. His hands started moving in places I hadn’t invited him to, his touch no longer playful, but aggressive. His body pressed too close to mine, and for a moment, I felt trapped.Panic creeped up my spine. I glanced at Mago again, hoping—no, needing—him to step in. But he was still caught up in his own world, his attention divided between the women and his drink.The customer’s hands were all over me now, his breath hot on my neck as he leaned in closer, too close. I jerked away, but he only followed, grinning like he’d just won some sort of prize. I could feel the heat of his body pressing in, his hands now danger

*Arlene’s POV*Mago sat behind his desk, massaging his temple as he read through the financial report I handed him. The tightness in his jaw told me all I needed to know before he even spoke. The numbers were bad, worse than I expected. The newly opened bar across town had stolen not only our regulars but also our spotlight.“Our regulars are barely showing up,” I said, trying to gauge his mood. “And when they do, it’s just for a quick drink before hopping over to the new place.”Mago leaned back, letting out a frustrated sigh. “We need something more interesting than just serving drinks,” he muttered, his voice carrying the weight of his thoughts.“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” I said, trying to keep my tone professional despite the nerves twisting in my stomach. I had been preparing for this moment, waiting for him to ask for my input. “And it’s not jus

*Mago’s POV*The bar was packed, the air electric with anticipation as the first-ever gender battle began. The crowd buzzed with excitement, their cheers and whistles echoing against the walls. Arlene and I stood on opposite sides of the stage, both ready, both determined. I could see the fire in her eyes—a challenge, a promise that she wasn’t going down without a fight.I signaled to Dessa to start the music. As the first beats of the energetic track boomed through the speakers, I began my flairing routine. Bottles twirled and spun in my hands, catching the lights in dazzling flashes. The crowd roared with approval, egging me on as I tossed the shaker high into the air, caught it behind my back, and poured a perfect shot. I finished my first round with a dramatic slam of the shaker onto the bar, my signature smirk firmly in place.Then it was Arlene’s turn.She stepped forward with a coy smile, her moves smooth, c

*Mago*I yanked off my shirt, glaring at the lipstick smear Danica had left behind. She was trouble wrapped in a bombshell package—my distant cousin from Florida, with a penchant for stirring up chaos. The moment she found out I’d married Arlene—the daughter of the man who had destroyed my family—Danica decided to make it her mission to stoke the fires of jealousy.She was good at this game. It wasn’t her first time, either. She’d once orchestrated a similar drama with Marco and Janine, pushing Janine to admit her feelings for him. That scheme had been flawless, except Marco caved to Janine too quickly, and I lost my bet with Arlene.Now, the stakes were higher. I had a new bet to win, one I couldn’t afford to lose. Stuart was planning to propose to Patricia soon, which meant I had precious little time to make Arlene give up on this sham of a marriage. Danica was my Plan A. Plan B? Winning the Gender War

*Arlene*I woke to the weight of Mago’s body against mine, his arm draped over my waist, his leg tangled with mine. His steady breaths warmed the back of my neck, and I felt his chest rise and fall in rhythm against me. For a moment, I didn’t move, savoring the rare closeness. My heart hammered, caught between joy and anxiety.I glanced down, relieved and oddly disappointed to see that I was still fully clothed in the same outfit from last night. Nothing had happened. But this—waking up in his arms—was still more than I’d dared to hope for. How long had it been since I’d felt his warmth like this? Since I’d been trapped, willingly, in his embrace?I didn’t want to lose this moment, so I stayed still, pretending to sleep. I knew this was fragile, temporary. I wasn’t sure it would ever happen again.Minutes passed, and then I felt him stir. His hand flexed on my waist, and instead of pul