While My Husband Cheated I Married His Powerful Brother novel Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Chapter 9 My Wife

The first day, she screamed.

She screamed until her throat was raw. She beat her fists against the door until her knuckles bled. No one came. The walls were thick, and no one would hear her scream.

The second day, she stopped screaming.

She sat on the floor with her back against the wall and her knees drawn up to her chest and she tried to remember how to breathe. She was thirsty. So thirsty. Her tongue felt like sandpaper. Her lips were cracked.

She thought about the baby.

Don’t let me lose this one, she whispered. Please. Don’t let me lose this one too.

She did not know who she was talking to. God. The universe. Her mother. No one answered.

The third day, she stopped thinking.

Her consciousness came in waves. She would be awake for a few minutes, then drift into something that was not quite sleep and not quite waking. Time lost its shape. The room spun around her. She saw things that were not there. Her mother’s face. The face of the baby she had lost. Dorian’s gray eyes.

She heard the lock click.

She thought she was dreaming.

Hands grabbed her arms. Dragged her across the floor. Her hip scraped against the doorframe. She tried to open her eyes. The light was too bright. She closed them again.

She was in the living room. She knew this because the floor was different. Carpet instead of wood which was softer. She felt someone’s hands on her, pulling her upright. She tried to push them away. Her arms would not work.

"Look at you."

Xiomara’s voice. Close to her ear.

"Three days without food and you’re already half dead. Pathetic."

Veyra forced her eyes open. Xiomara was standing over her. She was wearing a silk robe. Her hair was perfect. Her nails were the same deep red as on the plane.

"You think you can take pictures of me?" Xiomara said. "You think you can record me?"

She slapped Veyra across the face.

Veyra’s head snapped to the side. The pain was dull, distant, like it was happening to someone else.

"I wish you had died so that Caspian will be mine alone."

Another slap on the other cheek.

Veyra tried to speak. Nothing came out.

Xiomara grabbed her hand. The one with the cane. She pressed her heel into the back of it. The heel was thin and sharp. It ground into the skin, into the muscle and into the bone.

Veyra screamed.

She tried to pull away. Xiomara pressed harder. The pain was no longer dull. It was bright and hot and it filled her entire body.

"Stop," Veyra gasped. "Please—"

"Please?" Xiomara leaned closer. Her breath smelled like wine. "That’s not what you said on the plane. On the plane, you were so brave. Slapping me. Pouring champagne on me. Where’s that woman now?"

Veyra tried to hit her. Her arm would not cooperate. She was too weak. Too tired. Too hungry.

Xiomara grabbed her hair. Wrapped it around her fist. Pulled her head back.

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