Julia stepped out of the hospital, the grand mansion loomed before her like a silent giant. She should have felt relief and joy, yet a knot twisted in her stomach, leaving her uneasy and restless.
Housemaids rushed to her side, their faces bright with concern. "Help Julia," Victor's curt order sliced through the air.
Her husband's eyes were glued to his phone screen, his fingers tapping rapidly. "A-Are you not going to be with me? I mean… I thought we would finally have some time together," she asked, heart sinking.
"The servants are here. They will take care of you," he said, barely looking up. "I need to handle the company."
"Is this about the employee who stole from the company?" she pressed, her voice trembling. The mess of their canceled honeymoon loomed like a dark cloud over her head.
His gaze dropped, eyes darting away. "Y-Yes. You know I need to be hands-on. You understand that, don't you?" He avoided her eyes like they were burning.
She lowered her eyes, feeling a chasm of distance between them. This was supposed to be their time, a moment to share, yet he felt like a stranger standing miles away.
Disappointment welled up inside her, spilling over. "I know that's important to you," she said, frustration sharp in her voice. "But it's our honeymoon! Everything's ruined, especially after... what happened. I promised to tell you everything when we got home, right? Are you leaving again? I have something important to tell you,"
Annoyance flickered across his face. "What is it? Can't it wait until later or tomorrow?" he snapped, "I knew it. You wouldn't understand; you don't know about business. You have no ambition, just happy to stay this way. That's why your life isn't moving. You're stagnant,"
Heat rose to her ears, anger bubbling within. The housemaids had slipped away, perhaps sensing the tension. "No ambition? You really speak to me like that, Victor?" she shot back, voice rising. "We just want different things in life! You say I have no ambition? Not all dreams are about career or making money. I have many dreams, just different from yours. And why, is being stagnant bad? Is life a race where you must always move forward? Since then and until now, has there been no change in my life?"
Julia stared at Victor in disbelief, her heart racing. Was this really him speaking? How could he say this after knowing all her struggles? Instead of sitting beside her, asking what happened, he stood like a king, looking down at her. He knew about the syndicate that took her, yet he treated her like she was beneath him.
Victor's eyes widened at her reply, surprise flashing across his face. She had always stayed silent, allowing him to continue without question, but today was different. She felt the fire inside her, and she couldn't let him walk away unchallenged.
He had already disappointed her too much. If he hadn't abandoned her during their honeymoon, she wouldn't have suffered so painfully!
He coughed awkwardly, shifting his weight. "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. I'm just tired from the company. You know being a CEO comes with a lot of responsibilities," he said, his voice lacking sincerity.
Silence filled the room, and warmth crept into her eyes. She had hoped for comfort and support when she returned home, but it never came. All she wanted was for him to listen, to be her rock, to embrace her as they began their marriage. Why did asking for this feel like a burden to him?
She turned to walk up the stairs, but he caught her wrist, holding her in place. "Are you mad? Just that, and you're already angry? You're so petty, Julia. You know I'm tired, and you give me that attitude?" His grip felt heavy, leaving her feeling trapped.
A deep breath filled her lungs, pushing back the anger. Now, she was the petty one? She was the one being unreasonable? How could he think that?
She had known about this side of Victor for a long time. Ignoring it had become a habit because no one was perfect. She believed marriage would change things, would mend the gaps between them.
The frustration bubbled inside her; he had no empathy for what she had endured. "I'm not angry, Victor," she managed to say, forcing her voice to stay calm.
He nodded, seemingly convinced. "Very good, you're overreacting. I might get home late today, so don't worry, okay?" he said, brushing off her concern.
She shook her head in frustration. When would she become his first priority?
To end the conversation, she simply nodded. She walked up the stairs while Victor remained glued to his phone, lost in his own world.
Stepping into their master bedroom, a sense of strangeness washed over her. The spacious room, so modern and beautiful, felt cold and distant. The large glass window let in too much light, and the big walk-in closet stood silently, as if judging her. Why did it feel like she had no claim to this space?
With heavy steps, she approached the edge of the bed and sank onto the soft surface. She longed for a serious talk with Victor, just the two of them. A heart-to-heart. They had never had that kind of conversation, not even when they were dating. Victor always shied away from deep feelings.
Flopping onto the plush mattress, she closed her eyes tight, willing sleep to come. But no matter how weary she was, sleep eluded her, leaving her wide awake with thoughts swirling.
Confusion clouded her mind; Victor seemed so distant. Was the company truly his only focus? If he's busy fixing things with the man who steal money, couldn't he hire someone to handle it, given his wealth? What about the police? Hadn't they been involved in this mess?
Didn't her abduction matter to him? Did the company hold more value than her life? She felt small and unimportant, just a forgotten detail in his grand plans.
Her vision blurred as tears brimmed in her eyes, the weight of loneliness crashing down on her. In that moment, she felt utterly alone, like no one cared, like she had lost her place in the world.
Dante's face flashed in her mind, and she froze. She had searched for him in the hospital, wanting to see how he was doing. But when the nurses told her he had been discharged, shock washed over her. They hadn't even said goodbye; that thought ached deep within.
Guilt settled in her chest. Maybe Dante would blame her for pushing him into something he didn't want to do. What happened between them had been so traumatic. She whispered a silent prayer, hoping he would be okay and that they could both heal from their shared pain.
Deep down, she accepted that her path would never cross with Dante again, and maybe that was for the best. She didn't want the memories of their past struggles to haunt her anymore.
Thoughts swirled endlessly until sleep finally claimed her. The sound of the door creaking open jolted her awake. Blinking away the haze, she glanced at the clock on the wall; it was 12:30 in the morning! Victor just got home? My God!
"What happened to the company? To the person who stole from you?" she asked bitterly.
A satisfied grin spread across his face as he peeled off his polo shirt, draping it over the chair. "Everything's going smoothly. No problems. Soon, everything I want will come true," he proclaimed confidently.
A deep frown creased her forehead. What did he truly want in life? He had never shared that with her. It seemed he had it all already.
"That's good to hear. Can I talk to you seriously now?" she asked, her tone shifting to match her seriousness.
Victor nodded eagerly, his good mood apparent. He perched on the edge of the bed, an odd glint in his eye as he looked at her. "Sure, but after I do what I need to…" he grinned, his fingers brushing against her legs.
"Victor, I'm serious. I need to talk to you," she urged, trying to keep her voice steady despite the tension in the air.
He didn't relent, his grip tightening as he pulled her closer, holding her wrist firmly. Panic surged in her; she didn't like this, especially after everything she had endured. Victor had to understand what had happened to her first!
In a sudden rush, she pushed him back, causing him to stumble slightly. Irritation flickered across his features. "You're being so dramatic, aren't you? Isn't this what you want? This is what you were begging for on our wedding night. Now I'm doing it. Don't you want it?" he retorted, irritation in his voice.
Resentment bubbled up; her patience was running thin. "It's not that I don't want it. I want it, Victor! But we need to talk first. You need to know what happened to me. I'm asking for your understanding," she pleaded, her voice softening as desperation crept in.
He shot up from his seat, exasperation written all over his face. "I already know what happened to you. The bus you were on was ambushed, and everyone was threatened. You were among those trapped. I understand; what more do you want to say?" he snapped.
She stared at him, disbelief creeping into her expression. Was this merely a small matter to him? If that "bitter" incident hadn't happened to her, shouldn't he be concerned about her? He still should, right? What if she had post-traumatic stress disorder? Why was he brushing off her feelings like this?
"It's not just that, Victor! That's not all that happened to me! The night that was supposed to be the first day of our marriage!" she shouted, her voice echoing in the room.
"Fine! Tell me, what else happened to you?"
She took a deep breath and looked at him seriously. "I'm no longer a virgin. I was put in a situation where I had to choose between my body or my life,"
Julia watched as Victor's face turned pale, his eyes widening in shock.