CHAPTER 143: FOUL MOOD

Aiden POV:

Even unconscious, her body still twitched faintly beneath me, raw and spent. I finally stilled, my chest heaving as I stared down at the wreckage I’d made of her.

Bruised.

Broken.

Beautiful.

I yanked the sheet over her naked form, disgusted with myself, with her, with the whole fucking world. I stormed out of her room, each step heavier than the last, my fists clenched so tightly my knuckles cracked.

Why the fuck did I have to remember? Why now?

I was finally... finally almost happy.

Finally had her looking at me not like a princess at her dog, but like a woman seeing the man in front of her.

And just when I started to believe in the fragile, stupid little thing called peace—

The past came crashing in, tearing the floor out from under me.

Maybe it was a curse. Maybe it was an abomination to love the very monster who had wrecked you once.

Maybe I was the fool.

Because the day I finally whispered that I loved her—

The day she clutched me back and said she loved me too—

That’s when the memories came slicing through.

That’s when the nightmares woke up, laughing in my face.

Now, by day, I’m tormented by her broken, trembling self—

And by night, I’m hunted down by the ghost of her past self.

The spoiled, vicious princess who had stripped me of everything,

Who had laughed while carving scars across my soul.

And worst of all—

I still wanted her.

Even after everything, I still fucking wanted her.

Maybe I was the monster all along.

It was already 5 a.m.

I didn’t even bother trying to go back to sleep.

What was the fucking point?

Even if I closed my eyes, all I’d see were snips—

Broken, flashing pieces of the tortures I endured at her hands.

Her laughter echoing through stone halls.

The bite of the whip.

The raw humiliation.

Sleep wasn’t a mercy for me anymore.

It was just another battleground.

So I showered instead, scrubbing my skin until it burned, trying to erase the invisible

stains she left all over me.

But nothing washed off.

Nothing ever did.

After the shower, I didn’t even look back toward her room.

Let her pick up whatever was left of herself.

I grabbed my keys, slid into the driver’s seat of my car, and peeled out of the driveway, the tires spitting gravel behind me.

The drive to the HQ was a blur—cold air, empty streets, my mind a goddamn warzone of hate, guilt, and raw fucking want.

The city slowly woke up around me, but inside I was already dead on my feet.

There was no peace to be found.

Not behind the wheel.

Not behind closed doors.

Not even behind her body, no matter how hard I’d tried to fuck the past out of both of us.

By the time I pulled into the underground garage of the headquarters, my hands ached from gripping the wheel so hard.

I rode the private elevator up to my floor, straight into my office.

Dropped into the leather chair like the weight of the world just doubled.

Slouched low.

Chest tight.

Eyes dead.

Every nerve still burning from memories I didn’t want, didn’t need, but couldn’t erase.

My chest felt tight.My brain was a goddamn warzone.Guilt. Hate. Lust. Regret.It clawed at me from every direction.

I couldn’t even think straight.

A sharp knock broke the silence.

"Come in," I barked, voice low and wrecked.

Tobias stepped inside, sharp in his tailored suit, holding his tablet like a shield against my foul mood.

"Sir," he said calmly, "just a reminder—the launch event for the new branch is today. You’re scheduled to attend... with your wife. 2 p.m. sharp."

Wife.

The word hit like a punch to the throat.

I almost laughed. Almost.

Instead, I dragged a hand down my face and leaned back harder in the chair.

I stared at him for a beat, then laughed bitterly.Perfect. Just fucking perfect.

Pretend we’re a loving couple, smile for the cameras, charm the investors.After I spent the whole goddamn morning breaking her body and spirit.After she lay twitching and half-conscious, bruised and used the way she once used others.After I hated her.After I loved her.After I didn’t even know who the fuck I was anymore.

I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my jaw, feeling the rough scrape of stubble.

Pretend.

Smile.

Play the loving husband.

Shake hands, cut ribbons, and sell a lie to the media.

After what I did to her this morning?

After the way she whimpered and broke and fucking shattered under me?

And the sick part was, a darker voice inside me whispered she deserved every second of it.

It was still nothing compared to the years of hell she dealt out like candy.

My mind flashed to her again—

Bruised.

Spent.

Eyes glassy.

Panting and twitching in the aftermath of my anger, my hatred, my need.

My mind, unhelpfully, flashed back to her—Bent over, begging, shaking—Taking everything I gave her and still fucking dripping wet for me.

My jaw clenched hard enough to ache.

Would she even be able to walk properly?

More so, balance in the ridiculous heels expected at these shows in her condition?

A humorless smirk twisted my mouth.

That would be a sight.

Part of me wanted to cancel.Say fuck it.Burn the whole charade down.

But no.There was too much riding on this launch.Money. Reputation.Power.

Good luck, princess.

You wanted a slave to kiss your feet in a past life?

Now stumble behind him in public, wearing the bruises he gave you.

"Fine," I said after a long, heavy beat. My voice was rough as gravel. "Get the car ready for 1 p.m."

Tobias only nodded—ever the professional—and left without asking questions.

Smart man.

I sat there alone for a long time after, staring at the skyline.

The city buzzed below like a nest of ants, clueless to the storm brewing above.

The man I’d become.

The woman she was.

The wreckage we left in each other’s hands.

I was supposed to hate her.

I was supposed to make her pay.

But fuck me, when I touched her, all I wanted was to ruin her and worship her in the same breath.

And that —

That was the real abomination.

Pretend to be the perfect couple.Pretend I hadn’t wrecked her hours ago.Pretend I hadn’t loved her before remembering all the reasons I was supposed to destroy her.

What a fucking joke.

*********

The hours dragged like corpses.

Emails.

Phone calls.

Meetings.

I went through the motions, but the monster inside me stayed wide awake, pacing under my skin, snarling at every fucking thing that crossed my path.

Everyone noticed.

Of course they did.

Assistants who usually met my gaze dropped their eyes like cowards.

Senior managers stumbled over their words during presentations, drenched in nervous sweat.

Even Tobias kept his distance, only handing me documents at arm’s length, never lingering unless absolutely necessary.

The tension in the building was suffocating, thick enough to choke on.

Good.

Let them choke.

Maybe they thought I’d snapped over the pressure of the launch.

Maybe they thought I’d lost my mind over business.

Idiots.

It was her.

It was always her.

The little witch in the other wing of my house.

The one who had the audacity to look at me with broken, wet eyes this morning as if she was the fucking victim.

I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth hurt.

Because of her, my mind was a goddamn battlefield.

Because of her, I couldn’t even sit through a fucking board meeting without imagining my hands around her throat—not to hurt her this time, but to steady her, to hold her up when she swayed in those fucking heels she was probably struggling to wear right now.

The two sides of me tore at each other inside my ribs.

Hate.

Want.

Rage.

Need.

I signed off on papers without reading half of them, tossed my pen so hard across the desk it clattered to the floor.

Every cautious glance from an intern, every stammered report from a department head, it all added fuel to the fire under my skin.

They knew something was off.

They felt it radiating from me like heat off a bomb about to blow.

And somewhere deep down, a darker part of me reveled in it.

Good.

Let them be afraid.

Let them feel a fraction of what I felt trapped inside my own goddamn mind.

They didn’t need to know the details.

They didn’t need to know that I was haunted not just by her but by the seven slaves she once laughed at, by the cracked lips and broken backs, by the screams she caused with a wave of her royal little hand.

If she hadn’t existed, maybe I’d be normal by now.

Maybe I wouldn’t be a man made of broken glass and sharp edges.

Maybe I wouldn’t have to wonder every second if I should kiss her or kill her.

Maybe... maybe.

Maybe didn’t mean shit.

Tobias tapped lightly on my doorframe, sensing the wrongness in the air but too professional to comment.

"Sir," he said carefully, "we have to leave for the event in an hour."

I didn’t even answer.

Just stared at him until he cleared his throat and left, wisely not asking if I was alright.

Because I wasn’t.

I hadn’t been alright for a long fucking time.

And now that she was back in my life, bleeding into my nights, my sheets, my mind—

I was worse than ever.

And it was her fault.

All her goddamn fault.