Page 18 of Vintage

"Fuck, Mrs. Rowan..." He grinned, a twisted sort of joy in his eyes, and leaned in, his tongue brushing against the salty trails of my tears on my cheek. He followed their path, a haunting caress, until he reached my eyes, pressing his lips against them as if trying to erase the pain. "Even your tears taste sweet."

He fucked me thoroughly, reaching our highs together, and filled my womb with his cum.

But I didn’t feel loved. This isn’t how he loved me.

Choking on my sobs, I let out a broken confession. Just yesterday, I was an entity forged from fury, and now... now I’m nothing but a shadow of that rage.

"I hate you, Amir."

It's true. I have come to hate him. The only man I ever vowed to love.

"You can say whatever lies you want," he hissed, his fingers digging into my jaw, his anger radiating off him like heat. "You can try to convince yourself, but you will never truly hate me, Mrs. Rowan. Your heart doesn’t work that way. It’s still beating for me, no matter how much you deny it."

In that moment, my senses were in turmoil, unable to distinguish between the deafening ring in my ears and the searing pain in my heart. But then, Ro stood tall, his jaw clenched, his eyes roving over me with a cruel smirk before he turned away.

Maybe the sound I heard wasn’t just a figment of my imagination; perhaps it was the doorbell ringing.

I couldn’t bear to confront it any longer.

Darius’s angry shouts were the only sounds reverberating through our home. There might have been other voices lurking in the background, but I was too drained and heartbroken to grasp anything beyond the overwhelming noise.

Chapter Nine

"Where is Amery?" Reese was the only friend my wife enjoyed talking to. While others weren't in conflict with her, she was particular about who she allowed in her life.

"Where have you hidden her?"

I chose to ignore her, focusing on polishing the wood with sandpaper. The deadline for this commission was fast approaching, and it was crucial to refine the piece as it entered the final stage before I could apply the beeswax finish.

Reese stomped her feet and yanked the sandpaper from my grasp, scraping her fingers against the coarse edge in the process.

She shot me a glare, and even though she must have felt the urge to soothe her hand, she merely clenched her jaw and maintained her fierce gaze. Her attempt at intimidation was clever, but it didn’t faze me.

"What do you fucking want, Reese?" I snapped, feeling out of sorts now that she had stirred the beast within me.

Stepping closer, she raised an eyebrow defiantly and exhaled sharply through her nose.

"Where Is My Friend?"

I tightened my jaw, measuring each breath that escaped my nostrils.

"That’s none of your business, because your friend is my wife." I reclaimed the sandpaper and resumed smoothing the rough edges of the wooden dragon that needed to be finished by this evening.

"None of my business, you say? Should I just stand by and let you, worse than a crocodile, do whatever you want to my damn friend? Who do you think you are to make decisions for her, Amir? She isn’t answering her phone, nor is she responding when I come to your house, and to be clear about these strange occurrences, Amery hasn’t opened her shop since the night I heard from Darius about the fight you had with her on the street!" Her voice dripped with venom, souring my mood.

I despised having to hear her concerns.

"She is Amery Shen. That girl is indifferent to everything, including her own feelings when it comes to her career, Amir. So, tell me, or I’ll have to file a missing person report—where is she?" The threat was more than just a threat; knowing Reese and her unique personality, she might actually follow through if I left her out on the streets without an answer.

"At home."

With safety glasses on, I picked up my carving pen and began to discreetly etch my name on the side, along with an emblem indicating that this piece is an original creation of mine.

"Step back, or you might get hurt by the wood chips," I cautioned her in a flat tone while continuing my work.

She complied, stepping back but still focused on her goal for being there.

"I already know that. What I want to understand is why she has shut herself away and what you’ve done to her that led to this lockdown, assuming she’s still alive and you haven’t killed her and hidden her body in your fridge."

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