She Rolled The Dice On Our Marriage And He Let Her Win Chapter 03

She Rolled The Dice On Our Marriage And He Let Her Win Chapter 03

The game was so absurd that I laughed.

I laughed until tears ran down my face.

Callum said nothing.

Bria clung to his sleeve and shook it back and forth.

“Cal, let’s just play. Say yes.”

I wiped away my tears.

“Go on,” I said. “Let her turn our child into another toy.”

“Just like our marriage.”

Callum pressed a hand to his forehead.

“I’m sorry, Bria. I can’t.”

Bria clearly hadn’t expected him to refuse. She grabbed at her own hair and started screaming, then ran down the stairs.

Callum went after her without hesitation.

As he turned, he looked back at me. His lips parted like he wanted to say something.

In the end, he said nothing.

I stared at the box of old things, at all the pieces of a life Callum and I had once built together.

A dull ache spread through my chest, heavy and sour, until even breathing felt painful.

A familiar number called.

“Miss Vey,” Mr. Harlan said, “under the agreement you made with Mr. Vey, your marriage to Mr. Rourke did not last five full years.”

“You’re to leave Briarwick and accept the marriage your grandfather arranged.”

“And once you leave, you can never come back.”

“We’ll send someone for you in three days.”

“All right, Harlan.”

After I hung up, all the strength seemed to drain out of me.

After leaving the conflict zone, I had ignored my grandfather’s objections and married Callum anyway. That was when I made the agreement with him.

Back then, Callum had been injured so badly he might never hold a scalpel again.

He had returned to Briarwick to take over his family business, drowning in work every day. I was afraid he would worry, so I never told him about the deal.

I never thought I would lose this ridiculously.

When I returned to my downtown condo, the lights were blazing.

A bad feeling slammed into my chest.

Bria stood in the middle of the living room. In her hand was the only thing my parents had left me.

My mother’s gold locket.

When I was barely old enough to talk, my father had fastened it around my neck. My mother had smiled and said it would keep me safe, happy, and loved for the rest of my life.

Callum sat nearby, his brows drawn together, his fingers tapping against the table again and again.

Other than me, he was the only person with a key to this place.

“Maren,” he said, “apologize to Bria.”

Absurd.

“Why should I apologize? What did I do?”

“You scared her today.”

I ignored him and reached for the locket in Bria’s hand.

Bria laughed, holding it by the chain and swinging it through the air.

“Callum said your things are his things. So I can play with them however I want.”

Then she let go.

The locket hit the floor and shattered.

For a moment, the room went dead silent.

Only Bria’s giggle remained.

“Oops,” she said sweetly. “My hand slipped.”

Callum froze too. He knew exactly what that locket meant to me. But to keep Bria happy, he had still taken it out and let her ruin it.

I lost my mind.

I shoved Bria away and dropped to the floor, shaking as I tried to gather the broken pieces.

“How could you?” My voice broke. “You knew what this was. It was the only thing my parents left me.”

Rage tore through me so fast I could barely breathe.

“I wish you’d both die.”

Bria shrieked behind me.

Callum’s face darkened at once.

“Over that broken thing, you want me dead?” he said coldly. “Fine, Maren. That’s impressive.”

I was so furious I nearly blacked out.

I lunged for Bria and grabbed her by the throat.

“Give it back,” I screamed. “Give it back to me.”

The next second, Callum caught me from behind. He pinned my arms down and forced me onto the couch, tying my wrists in place.

“Bria’s like a child right now. What the hell are you doing attacking her?”

“It’s just a locket. I can buy you a hundred more.”

He lifted Bria into his arms and held her like she was the one who needed protecting.

“Maren, think about what you’ve done.”

He carried Bria out, and the door slammed behind them hard enough to shake the walls.

My hands were covered in thin cuts from the broken pieces. I struggled out of the restraints, slipped off the couch, and collapsed onto the floor.

For a long time, I just sat there in the wreckage.

Then I picked up my phone and called a private women’s clinic.

“I need to schedule a termination,” I said. “As soon as possible.”