My other failed attempt at sex ended in absolute disaster. Julian completely lost his mind. He grabbed the bedside lamp and slammed it violently at me. A sharp shard of glass sliced across my forehead, and warm blood began to trickle down my cheek. Meanwhile, he curled up in the corner of the room, clutching his head in agony, whimpering over and over again: “I’m sorry… Vivian, I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.” Three years ago, during that horrific house fire, he had pulled me out of the flames. In doing so, his lower body was severely burned. The doctors told us he would never be able to perform as a normal man again. Since then, every failed attempt at intimacy became a trigger that sent him into a violent spiral of rage and self-loathing. I thought this was a psychological trauma he just couldn’t overcome. So, no matter how many times he ended up putting me in the hospital, I never blamed him. I even begged my father to give him an executive position in our family company. I showered him with shares, luxury apartments, and supercars, doing everything in my power to make up for what I felt I owed him. Until tonight, when I went to pick him up from a club because he was wasted. Outside the VIP lounge, I heard a voice laughing from inside: “Yo, Julian, I thought you were impotent? How did you manage to keep your cute little secretary in bed for three days straight?” Julian let out a lazy, arrogant chuckle. “I lied to Vivian, obviously.” “A simple lie, and she’s been so consumed by guilt that she’d give me anything. I’ve practically beaten her half to death, yet she’s still too guilty to divorce me. She’s even planning to sign over her family inheritance to me.”
“Julian, babe, let me go. What if your old lady shows up and catches us? She’ll kill me.” The girl speaking was his secretary, Chloe. She was twenty-two, a fresh college graduate—young, soft, and pretty. As she spoke, she snuggled deeper into Julian’s chest. The lounge erupted in dirty jokes and cheers. Amused by her clingy act, Julian pinched her cheek affectionately. “Are you really that scared of her?” “Don’t worry. With me here, nobody touches you.” “Besides, once I get my hands on her family’s company, I’m divorcing her anyway.” Chloe sniffled, putting on a victim act. “Last week, I just made Vivian a cup of coffee, and she poured the whole scalding mug over me in front of everyone, accusing me of trying to hurt her.” She was talking about last week, when I had a severe allergic reaction and went into anaphylactic shock because she secretly put dairy milk in my coffee. I almost choked to death on my own swollen throat in the ER. At the time, Julian rushed to the hospital and screamed at her. When he threatened to fire her, I was actually the one who begged him to let her keep her job. But now, the man’s eyes darkened with lust as he gently wiped away her fake tears. “Don’t worry. She already drank the wine spiked with the aphrodisiac tonight. In a bit, we’ll watch her writhe in desperate heat while we completely ignore her. Let’s consider that payback for you, okay?” Chloe’s eyes lit up, but she quickly feigned worry, tugging at his arm. “But what if she finds out? What if she makes a scene?” “Find out?” Julian’s scoff pierced through the loud bass of the music, stabbing straight into my ears. “I slip drugs into her warm milk every single night before bed, and she hasn’t suspected a thing. She actually thinks she’s just having a severe hormonal imbalance.” “Last night, she was crying in my arms, telling me she couldn’t control her physical desires anymore but was terrified of triggering my PTSD from the burns. She was literally shaking with guilt.” He paused, his voice dripping with amusement. “Honestly, watching her play the tragic, guilty wife is the funniest thing ever.” I froze outside the door. My blood turned to ice, coldness sweeping from my toes straight to the crown of my head. All those agonizing, shameful nights where I was tormented by unnatural heat. All those times I locked myself in the bathroom, sobbing under a freezing shower to wash away my desperate, uncontrollable physical urges. It was all him. He was gaslighting me. He knew exactly how guilty I felt after the accident, and how terrified I was that my sexual needs would hurt his fragile ego. Even tonight, I was on antibiotics and told him I couldn’t drink alcohol. But he just said, “Vivian, it’s Chloe’s birthday. Don’t be a party pooper.” Because I didn’t want to upset him, I drank it. Now, my stomach was churning violently. I bit my lip so hard it bled, running straight to the hallway restroom before I let out a gut-wrenching sob. I cried until my eyes ran dry, my heart shattered into a million jagged pieces. Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a custom ringtone. I picked up. Julian’s deep, soothing voice came through: “Viv, aren’t you back yet?” I took a few deep breaths to steady my voice. “Almost there.” “Have you been crying?” He was always incredibly sharp at reading my emotions. But the attention that used to make my heart flutter now felt like a cold blade twisting in my chest. “No.” Through blurry eyes, I stared at my reflection, remembering our years together. Since his discharge from the hospital, we had slept in separate rooms. Even at my most miserable moments, I only blamed myself for not being able to save him from the fire. Once, when he was drunk and about to fall, I tried to catch him, only for him to fly into a rage and throw a heavy glass bottle that left a permanent scar on my shoulder. Even then, my guilt only made me want to give him more. I begged my father to bring him into our company, giving him stocks, properties, and luxury cars. I turned a broke college student into the powerful CEO he was today. My best friend had warned me: “Vivian, you need to watch out. Men change when they get money. A guy in Julian’s position will have young girls throwing themselves at him left and right.” Back then, I had replied with absolute confidence: “He would never betray me.” I had given Julian my unconditional, blind trust. Yet, the girl he cheated on me with was the very secretary I had personally hired for him. They met because of me. And now, they were treating me like a brainless clown in my own company. I let the freezing tap water run over my hands. The biting cold was a harsh reminder that everything I believed in was a lie.
Taking one last deep breath, I pushed open the door to the VIP lounge. The loud laughter died down instantly. Chloe was sitting on Julian’s lap, the two of them locked in a passionate kiss. Julian slowly pulled away from her, spitting an ice cube into a glass. There wasn’t a single shred of guilt or panic in his eyes. He slid a slip of paper toward me on the table, offering a casual explanation: “We were playing Truth or Dare and I lost. You weren’t here, so I called you. But even if you were here, I can’t have physical contact with you without triggering my anxiety, so Chloe had to step in and help me complete the dare.” Everyone’s eyes locked onto me. Some were curious; others were dripping with mockery. I smoothed out the crumpled paper and read the messy handwriting: [Pass an ice cube using only your mouth to any member of the opposite sex in the room for one full minute.] My eyes stung, the words blurring together. I looked up at the stranger standing in front of me. He had the perfect excuse and the perfect prop. I couldn’t even find a logical reason to scream at him. But I knew we needed to get out of this loud, toxic room to talk. “I don’t feel well,” I said softly. “I want to go home.” In the past, no matter how important the event was, the moment I said those words, he would immediately stand up and leave with me. But this time, he simply turned and pointed at a bucket overflowing with ice cubes nearby. “Your face was really flushed when you were drinking earlier. I had the waiter bring this ice bucket.” “If you’re feeling too hot, just dump some ice water over your head to cool down.” My throat felt incredibly tight. I didn’t move. “I’m on antibiotics and I have a cold. I can’t do ice water.” “Just take me home, Julian.” The unnatural heat in my body was spreading, making my eyes well up with tears. “Please, Julian,” I whispered, practically begging. Our eyes locked. For a split second, a flash of surprise and hesitation crossed his face. We had been together for years. Even when he accidentally threw things at me and left me bleeding, I had never shown this kind of vulnerability in front of his friends. His hand, which was playing with a lighter, paused. But Chloe quickly cut in. “Vivian, are you still mad at me about the allergy incident? Fine, I’ll drink this whole bottle of whiskey to make it up to you.” She reached for a bottle of Macallan. It was newly opened. Julian immediately grabbed her wrist, stopping her, before turning a cold, accusing glare on me. “Vivian, stop throwing a jealous tantrum here.” “It’s Chloe’s birthday. She hasn’t even blown out her candles yet. Don’t ruin her night.” I stood frozen, watching him reach out to gently ruffle Chloe’s hair. “Don’t worry about her,” he murmured to Chloe. “She’s just not feeling well. She’s not targeting you.” Chloe instantly beamed, her tears vanishing. She wrapped her arms around Julian’s sleeve, looking up at him with adoration. “Julian, you’re the best.” Then, she shot me a smug, triumphant look from under her lashes. The atmosphere in the lounge bounced back to life. A waiter wheeled in a massive birthday cake. Everyone started singing the birthday song. Julian stood right next to Chloe, a warm smile playing on his lips. I shrank back into the shadows of the corner sofa, my body burning up from the drug. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. Across the room, Julian was looking down at Chloe as she made a wish, his gaze filled with a tenderness he hadn’t shown me in years. The moment she blew out the candles, he reached out, scooped some frosting, and playfully smudged it on the tip of her nose. “Julian! How could you! You ruined my makeup!” The girl squealed, laughing as she scooped up a handful of frosting and smeared it across his cheek. They laughed and flirted, looking exactly like a deeply in-love, normal couple. And I was just a useless spectator sitting in the dark. Watching the man I loved with all my heart cherish another woman. Julian seemed to feel my gaze, occasionally casting a brief, scanning glance toward my corner.
Chloe started cutting and handing out the cake. When the last plate was gone, she turned to me with a look of fake horror. “Oh my gosh, Vivian, I’m so sorry! I didn’t order a big enough cake. We ran out.” She wrung her hands, biting her lip. “I… I can give you my slice if you want.” But Julian grabbed her wrist, answering on my behalf. “No need. You’re the birthday girl, why should you give yours up?” “Besides, Vivian doesn’t even like sweet things.” During our first year together, Julian had spent hours making a mango cake for me. I couldn’t eat it because of my severe mango allergy, so he simply assumed I hated sweets altogether. Back then, I was so touched by his effort that I didn’t care. Only now did I realize that in all these years, he had never bothered to actually learn my preferences. Amidst the noise, a hand with clean, well-defined fingers suddenly offered me a plate of cake. The cake had been carefully cleaned; every single piece of mango had been meticulously picked off. “You drank on an empty stomach. Eat some of this to coat your stomach.” I looked up. It was Liam—Julian’s best friend. As I took the plate, I suddenly grabbed Liam’s collar and pulled him down toward me. One of the guys in the room noticed and hollered, “Hey, Julian, looks like the drug is hitting your wife. She’s mistaking Liam for you!” The entire room quieted down, everyone’s eyes darting between me and Liam. Julian didn’t even stand up. He just kept pouring himself shot after shot. He cast a lazy glance at us, completely unfazed. “She’s just out of it. She’ll realize it’s not me in a second and push him away.” “Trust me, Vivian hasn’t let another man touch her in years. But since I can’t touch her either, watch how well she tries to hold herself back. It’s actually pretty entertaining.” Now that I was drugged and “out of it,” Julian didn’t even bother to hide his malice anymore. The heat in my body clashed with a sudden, roaring wave of fury. I stopped fighting the urge. I leaned up and pressed my lips firmly against Liam’s. Time seemed to stop. The teasing and whispering in the lounge died instantly. The silence was deafening. Just as my breathing started to turn shallow and heavy, a loud crash shattered the quiet. I pulled back. Julian had swept an entire tray of glasses onto the floor. Before I could even process what was happening, Julian yanked me out of Liam’s reach and pulled me into his arms. His usually cold, distant eyes were now burning with a mixture of rage and hurt. For a split second, I was transported back to when we were teenagers. That was the exact jealous, possessive face he made when he saw other boys writing me love letters. Back then, he quit his beloved basketball team just so he could ride his bike and escort me home every single day after school. “Vivian, I hate seeing you with other guys,” he had whispered into the evening wind back then. I thought I understood him. Because of his rough childhood, he was always insecure, craving love and validation. So, when he told me he was impotent after the fire, I made sure to come home early every day. I cut off all male friends. I even let him check my phone whenever he wanted, just to give him a sense of security. Now, Julian’s raspy, dark voice vibrated in my ear. “Vivian, where are your suppressants?” He was talking about the pills he usually forced me to take to “control my hormonal issues.” “I’m not taking them today,” I whispered, pushing against his chest. “They’re bad for my health.” I forcefully wrenched myself out of his grip, stepping back. “Besides, you said physical contact with me triggers your panic attacks. You should stay away from me.” He froze. I blinked back the hot tears stinging my eyes. “You said you couldn’t touch me. But you seem perfectly fine now. Are you cured?” “I… I think my body is finally starting to accept you again,” he stammered, looking flustered. “Let’s just go home. I’ll take care of you.” He grabbed his coat and tried to drape it over my shoulders, pulling me toward the exit. “Julian…” Behind us, Chloe suddenly whimpered, clutching her lower stomach. Her face was deathly pale. “My stomach hurts so bad… I think the cold alcohol triggered my cramps. It hurts…” Julian stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at me, then looked back at Chloe. If this were yesterday, I would have been 100% confident that I was his priority. But now, my heart just felt heavy and hollow. I was drugged and weak. Chloe was having cramps. In the end, he turned around and rushed to support Chloe. The girl leaned heavily into his chest, looking at me with a pitiful, apologetic expression. “Vivian, there’s nothing going on between Julian and me. Please don’t kiss other guys just to make him mad.” “Besides, Liam was probably just too polite to reject you. He’d never actually touch you.” “Julian, go take care of Vivian. Don’t worry about me.” She coughed weakly. Julian tightened his grip around her waist, rubbing his neck uncomfortably. “Vivian, Chloe’s cramps get really dangerous. I have to take her to the hospital first.” “If you don’t want to use ice water, just take some of your meds. You’ll get through it once the peak passes.” My tears finally spilled over. Meeting my gaze, he looked away guiltily, adding, “I’ll come back for you as soon as I drop her off. I know you’re not the type to get petty over this.” I gripped the edge of the sofa, my nails nearly tearing the fabric. I looked at him and said, very calmly, “Don’t bother. Let’s get a divorce.” But when I looked up, all I saw was his hurried back as he carried Chloe out of the door. He ran so fast. Fast enough that he didn’t even hear what I said.
With their departure, the party quickly dispersed. I collapsed onto the sofa, my body curling into a tight ball as the drug ran rampant through my veins. As my consciousness started to slip, a pair of warm, strong arms wrapped around my waist. Liam lifted me effortlessly. The slight cool touch of his shirt made me crave more. The car sped through the night, eventually pulling up to my driveway. Inside the house, Liam immediately turned to search the cabinets. “I’ll find your medication.” I grabbed his hand and pinned him against the front door. Our noses brushed, our hot breaths mingling in the dark. “I don’t want meds,” I whispered. “I want you.” The hand resting on my waist stiffened. After a long, agonizing pause, his fingers slid under the hem of my dress, tracing my spine upward. The sheer heat of his touch made me shiver. Just before we crossed the line, my phone started ringing off the hook. Julian’s messages began flooding the screen one after another. [Where are you?] [Vivian, did you lock yourself in the bathroom with cold water again?] [The doctor said my condition is improving. I can force myself to hold you tonight if you need me to.] Reading his charity-like tone, I let out a mocking laugh and wrapped my arms tighter around the man in front of me. The phone kept ringing, incredibly annoying. I shut it off completely and threw it onto the rug. Liam paused, his chest heaving as he stared down at me. “He doesn’t deserve you, Vivian. Leave him.” Before I could answer, he leaned down and captured my lips. “Actually, even if you’re just using me to get back at him… I don’t care.” That night, the marriage bed I had shared with Julian creaked under a different weight for a very long time. By the time I was completely exhausted, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. The next morning, I was violently shaken awake by a heavy, aggressive banging on the front door. “Vivian! Open the door! You ran home and turned off your phone? Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?” “Open up! I’m here to help you get through the after-effects!” Julian’s breathless, angry voice echoed through the door. As I tried to sit up, a strong, heavy hand clamped around my waist, pulling me back down. “Don’t go,” Liam murmured, biting my earlobe softly. I gently pushed him away and slipped into a silk robe. “I have to. I need to end this once and for all.” I opened the front door. Julian’s eyes swept over me. Then, his gaze locked onto the dark, unmistakable bite marks and bruises clustering around my collarbone. Shock and explosive rage washed over his face, shattering his usual cold, arrogant composure. “What the hell is that?” I looked down at my chest casually. “I got bitten.” Julian pushed past me, balling his fists as he stormed into the bedroom—only to come face-to-face with Liam, who was walking out of the master bathroom with a towel around his waist. “What the hell did you two do behind my back?!” Julian roared. Looking at his trembling, furious face, I said nonchalantly: “Exactly what you and Chloe do when you think I’m not looking.”
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “439546”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster
Leave a Reply