Chereads / The Devil’s Kind of Romance / Chapter 25 - Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter 25 - Chapter Twenty-Three

Shattered Vows: Trapped in the Shadows of Deception.

As Max busied himself, removing the items from his shopping bag, I watched him intently, a quiet curiosity simmering beneath my gaze. Why, I wondered, did he always speak so vaguely about his business dealings? He only ever referred to "contracts," never offering details, never inviting my questions.

When his silence persisted, I gathered my courage and spoke.

"While you were out, some men came looking for you," I said, my voice careful.

Max froze. His head snapped toward me, his face a canvas of alarm. "What did you say?" he demanded.

"I said, some strange men came asking about you," I repeated.

A shadow fell over his face as he urged me to recount every word of the encounter. I complied, though my voice trembled as I spoke.

"There were three of them," I began. "One of them was... large, with a horrifying scar across his face. They asked where you were, but I told them I didn't know. They warned me to tell you this: failing to fulfill your part of the deal would have serious consequences."

Max's face darkened further with every word I uttered. "They said you were given an assignment. That you haven't completed it. Max, what business are you involved in? What assignment are they talking about?"

For a moment, he was still, a statue carved from tension and dread. Then, slowly, he met my eyes, his expression unreadable.

"Forget about them. I have nothing to do with those men," he said flatly.

"Max, stop lying to me," I implored, my voice breaking. "Why can't you just be honest? How am I supposed to trust you if you keep me in the dark? My life—our lives—are in danger, and you're acting as if nothing's wrong!"

His lips pressed into a hard line as my words landed. He glanced away, avoiding my gaze.

"I don't know what you mean, MMA," he muttered.

His evasion was the final blow. Tears blurred my vision as I shook my head. "I can't do this anymore, Max. I'm done. I'm leaving you. I'm leaving this marriage. I'm leaving you."

Max's reaction was not one of regret or desperation. Instead, his face contorted in fury. "You want to leave me?" he roared, his voice a storm threatening to engulf me. "After everything I've done for you? Do you even understand how much I've sacrificed for this marriage?"

"All I ever asked for was the truth, Max!" I shouted back, my anger flaring.

"And I gave you everything, and yet you stand there ungrateful, threatening to walk away!" His voice thundered, filling the room with venom.

Our argument spiraled into chaos, the air between us thick with rage and despair. My resolve unwavering, I marched to the wardrobe and grabbed my valise, throwing open the lid to pack my belongings.

But before I could finish, Max stormed toward me. With a ferocity that took my breath away, he shoved me backward. I crumpled to the floor, pain shooting through my ankle as I landed awkwardly.

He loomed over me, his shadow swallowing the light. "You're not leaving me, MMA," he said coldly. Reaching into the wardrobe, he seized my passport, my phone, and every document of value.

I stared up at him, tears streaming down my face. "You... you're not the man I married," I whispered, my voice trembling. "What happened to you, Max? What happened to us?"

His expression softened for a fleeting moment, but it was quickly replaced by steely resolve. "You made me do this," he said, his tone devoid of emotion. "You pushed me to this point. But I'm telling you now—you're not stepping out of this hotel again. This is where you'll stay."

He turned to leave, pausing at the door. "Don't bother trying to call for help. This hotel belongs to a friend of mine. Nobody's coming for you."

When the door slammed shut behind him, the silence was deafening.

I lay on the floor, cradling my injured ankle, my tears pooling on the cold tiles beneath me. For the first time, I felt truly abandoned, adrift in the wreckage of the life I had built with Max.

My thoughts turned inward, the voices of Sarah, Jummai, and Adiaba echoing in my mind. They had warned me. They had tried to open my eyes to the truth about Max, but I had ignored them. My heart had led me astray, blinded by lust disguised as love.

With effort, I pulled myself up, limping toward the wardrobe to find an ointment for my injury. As I lay back on the bed, the pain in my ankle a dull throb, I prayed that when Max returned, he would tell me this was all some cruel joke—a momentary lapse of judgment.

But deep down, I knew the truth. My world was crumbling, and there was no one to save me.