He Punished Me for Erasing Her Ink, by Carving His Rage Into My Flesh Chapter 03

He Punished Me for Erasing Her Ink, by Carving His Rage Into My Flesh Chapter 03

The bracelet Adrian had bought me with his very first paycheck was now bent out of shape in my hand.

Tears poured down my face.

One drop after another landed on that gold-plated bracelet.

The thin layer of gold was a mockery at my ten years of love.

So his sincerity had been worthless from the very beginning.

I picked up the bracelet and used the last of my cash to take a cab back to the estate.

At the door of the main bedroom, I heard my husband’s low, post-coital drawl from inside.

“Every time I’m with her, I can’t even enjoy myself. If I’m a little rough, she starts to bleed.”

“You’re so much better. I don’t have to handle you like glass.”

I clenched my fists and threw myself against the door.

“Adrian Blackwell! You murderer! You killed my mom!”

His voice came back sharp and annoyed.

“Claire, I’m not bailing out your family’s company. Don’t use melodrama to solicit sympathy.”

Tears covered my face, and I could barely speak through my sobs.

“I never lied to you. But what about you?”

“Even the gold bracelet you gave me was fake. Was anything between us ever real?”

Adrian went silent for a few seconds. When he spoke again, there was confusion in his voice.

“Claire, what the hell are you talking about?”

Inside the room, I heard the rustle of clothing, as if he had started to get up.

Then a woman’s giggle muffled his movement.

“Adrian, just another half hour,” Isla whined. “I haven’t had enough yet.”

“Fine,” he said. “Whatever you want.”

After that, no matter how I pounded on the door or cursed them, nothing dampened their fire.

My rage seemed to excite them even more.

The movements inside grew rougher, and her cries grew louder.

Tears kept falling, one after another.

I curled up on the floor and gasped my husband’s name under my breath.

Adrian.

Could you give me back the man who used to love me?

I didn’t know how long passed before the door finally opened.

The first thing I saw was our framed wedding photo on the nightstand.

Two wet handprints had been smeared across the glass, obscuring our joy.

In that instant, I understood exactly what position they had just used.

When Adrian saw the tears spilling from my eyes, a flash of guilt crossed his face before hardening into stone.

He reached out, as if to catch me.

But Isla suddenly grabbed his hand and pressed it to her belly.

“Adrian, you’re incredible,” she said sweetly. “I feel so full of you.”

“I’m only twenty-two. I’ll get pregnant soon. Unlike Claire, who can’t even give you a baby. What kind of woman is that?”

After saying that, Isla looked at my stomach with contempt.

I couldn’t process what I was seeing.

My voice trembled. “You had a vasectomy…”

Adrian glanced at me from the corner of his eye. His look was calm, but it was a death sentence.

“I had a vasectomy reversal, Claire. My family has built an empire. I need a child to inherit it.”

My heart, already riddled with holes, was shattered into dust.

Without the startup money I had given him, what empire would he have had?

Our first child had been lost because my body wasn’t strong enough to carry to term.

Back then, Adrian had prayed in a church with bloodshot eyes and sworn he would never put my life at risk like that again.

He was the one who found me a protective pendant and said it would keep me safe for the rest of my life.