Nyra's Point Of View
"How wide is your asshole?"
Ethan's eyes widened, like he'd just realized he'd gone too far. "Nyra, stop…"
"Stop?" I laughed, sharp and humorless. "Oh, Ethan, we're just getting started." I stepped closer, my heels clicking against the hardwood, each sound a punctuation mark in the sentence of his ruin.
"I know I hurt you," he said, his voice cracking like a boy caught stealing. "And I'm sorry, but—"
"But?" I cut in, my voice dripping with venom. "But what, Ethan? But you had to fuck him in our bed? But you had to let me walk in on you two, like some sick joke?"
My fingers twitched at my sides, itching to wrap around his throat. "Answer the damn question," I spat. "Is it so wide your brain escaped through it? Is that why you're this stupid?"
His face paled. "Nyra—"
"No," I hissed. "You don't get to say my name like that. Not after this." My chest heaved, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. "You know what?" I said, my voice dropping to a whisper, the kind that makes men lean in just to hear the threat. "The worst mistake I ever made was giving myself to you."
Something flickered in his eyes… guilt, maybe, or the ghost of what we'd once been. But then he opened his mouth again, and the words that came out destroyed me.
"I love him, Nyra."
The room tilted.
For a second, I thought I'd misheard. "What?"
"I love Max."
My gaze snapped to the man still sprawled on the bed, his dark eyes locked onto me with something like pity. Pity. Like I was the one who should be ashamed.
A laugh bubbled up in my throat, bitter and disbelieving. "Oh," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "The dog has a name."
Ethan's face twisted in fury. "Stop calling him that!"
The rage in his voice shocked me. This was the man who'd just been inside me, who'd whispered promises in the dark, who'd let me believe in us. And now he was snarling at me like I was the enemy.
"Why?" I shot back, my voice rising. "Because it's the truth? Because that's what he is? A dog you let fuck you in my bed?"
Ethan's hands clenched into fists. "I was only with you because my dad threatened to disown me!" he shouted, his voice breaking. "He said if I didn't marry you, he'd cut me off from the family business! You think I wanted this? You think I wanted you?"
The world stopped.
For a second, I couldn't breathe. My vision swam, my knees buckling like I'd been hit. The pain was physical, a knife twisting in my gut. All this time, I'd thought… what? That he loved me? That I was enough? That we were real?
And now he was telling me I'd been nothing but a transaction.
A lie.
The rage that surged through me was white-hot, blinding. Before I could think, my hand flew out, cracking across his face. The sound was satisfying. So I did it again. And again. My palm stung, but I didn't care. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to break him.
"Nyra!" Ethan's voice was desperate, but I didn't stop.
I was about to land the fourth slap when a hand grabbed my wrist… Max's. He yanked me back, hard, and I stumbled, my heel catching on the rug. I crashed to the floor, my head slamming against the edge of the nightstand. Pain exploded behind my eyes, sharp and bright.
My hand flew to my forehead, coming away slick with blood.
For a second, the world went silent.
Then I looked up.
Ethan was frozen, his face a mask of horror. "Nyra…"
But he didn't move, he just stood there.
And that was the moment I realized… he wasn't mine anymore. Maybe he never had been.
Something dark and dangerous uncoiled in my chest.
I pushed myself up, my body moving on instinct. My fingers closed around the first thing I touched… the heel of my boot, discarded in the heat of the moment. Without hesitation, I swung.
The first hit caught Max across the cheekbone, the crack of leather against flesh echoing through the room. He snarled, his hand flying to his face, but I didn't give him time to recover.
I swung again, harder this time, and then my other foot lashed out, my stiletto heel driving deep into his chest. He gasped, doubling over, and I felt a savage thrill at the sound.
"You can have him," I spat, my voice a blade. "Filth."
I grabbed my purse from the dresser, my movements sharp, jerky. I didn't look at either of them as I turned toward the door.
But then I stopped.
Because the living room was there.
Our anniversary decorations… fairy lights twinkling like a mockery, the banner I'd hung myself, the stupid heart-shaped balloons. The cake, still untouched on the table, the icing reading "Forever Us" in cursive I'd painstakingly chosen.
Something inside me snapped.
I stormed into the living room, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My hands shook as I reached for the first decoration… a string of lights, and yanked. The plugs tore from the wall, the bulbs shattering against the floor like tiny explosions. I grabbed the banner next, ripping it down, the paper tearing under my fingers. The balloons were next, my nails digging into the latex until they burst with a sound like gunshots.
And then there was the cake.
I stared at it for a long moment, my chest heaving. "Forever Us." The words blurred through my tears.
With a snarl, I grabbed it.
The plate was heavy in my hands as I stormed back into the bedroom. Ethan and Max were still there, Ethan now cradling Max against his chest, his eyes wide with something like fear as I kicked the door open.
"You'll regret this, Ethan," I said, my voice deadly calm.
Max smirked, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "You can do nothing."
I looked at them both… Ethan, my almost-husband, the man I'd loved, the man who'd just gutted me. And Max, the dog he'd chosen over me.
A slow, dangerous smile curled my lips, as I gripped my purse tighter. "Oh, darling," I purred, "wait and see."
And then I hurled the cake.
It hit Max square in the face, frosting and sponge exploding across his skin, dripping down his cheeks like tears. Ethan gasped, but I didn't stay to watch.
I turned on my heel and walked out.