Page 76 of The Pakhan's Forced Bride

I stare at her, watching, waiting.

Belle’s eyes are glittering with tears, but I won’t fall for that.

“Crying? Fake tears? Or are they real? Real because you got caught? You slipped up when you went to see him. I can’t believe you told me you’d be home waiting for me. And last night, when I came back from the warehouse, you comforted me after being a part of the devastation that took my men’s lives. How sick is that? You gave me your body to take away my hurt. Are you soulless?” I snarl, stepping closer to her as anger wells inside me.

She brushes away a tear and shakes her head. I wait for her to defend herself. To tell me I’m an asshole for accusingher of these things. But she doesn’t. In my mind, I’m pleading, begging, desperate to hear her tell me I’m wrong. My body is shaking as panic and anxiety rush through me.

The one thing holding me together right now is the desperate need to believe that I’m wrong about her. That’s all. It’s the last thread. A hope that’s quickly fading away.

Belle takes a step backward, creating distance between us. Her face is distorted with emotions, her lips pressed together, and her eyes flooded with tears.

My heart sinks lower, into the pit of my stomach, shattering even more when I understand that she isn’t going to tell me I’m wrong. She isn’t going to defend herself.

“I’m leaving,” Belle says, barely a whisper, her voice broken.

She speaks softly, not even sounding angry.

She turns to walk away from me, and I want to stop her. I want to shout for her to wait, to come back, to stay.

But I can’t.

The anger is in control right now, not me.

She goes upstairs to pack her things, then I listen from the living room as she leaves. The front door closes behind her. And the house falls silent and cold. Void.

For a long time, I couldn’t move.

I shake my head, clenching my jaw, standing in place with my hands clenched into tight fists at my side.

She betrayed me.

She shattered my trust.

I was a fool not to realize that something that good could never be real.

***

She’s been gone for an hour.

I take a shot of vodka, not knowing what to do with myself.

An hour turns into two.

The anger fades, and reason slowly slips into my thoughts.

What I said to her was beyond cruel. I didn’t even give her a chance to explain anything, to say anything. I just tore her apart with my words. Harsh, nasty words.

Why was I so cold?

Sitting on the edge of the sofa, I hang my head in shame. The harshness of my words was a direct reflection of the pain I was in.

And the only reason the pain was so intense is becauseI have feelings for her.

I let out a heavy breath of air when the truth slams into my thoughts.

“Dammit, Ardalion,” I groan, disappointed in myself. I let her walk away. The most incredible thing that has ever happened to me—I treated her like shit and then let her walk away.

Now that I know what’s really going on with me, I have to fix it.