Chapter 175 - 0175: You Ruined It, Graham

Chapter 175: Chapter 0175: You Ruined It, Graham

Elena’s Point Of View

His threat hangs in the air like a noose, tightening around my neck with every second that passes.

"And just let even a scratch be found on my siblings."

My fingers dig into his chest, my nails biting through the fabric of his shirt, my voice a growl, raw and uncontrolled.

"And I’ll kill you with my bare hands, Graham."

I can’t believe he’d stoop this low. He knows the fear that lives inside me, the trauma that clings to my skin like a second shadow. He knows about the way my mother used me, controlled me, broke me piece by piece until I no longer recognized my own reflection. He knows about the way I fought to free my siblings, clawing them out of her clutches, sacrificing years of my own life to give them something she never could... safety.

He knows because I told him, once, in the dark of our bedroom, when I still believed he was the one person on earth who would never use my scars against me. And now he’s using it against me anyway, twisting the one wound that never healed into a weapon he can hold to my throat.

He’s weaponizing the single thing that terrifies me more than anything else in this world, and some small, shattered part of me wonders if he ever loved me at all, or if I was simply another asset to be managed, another variable to control.

"You’re pathetic, Graham."

The words tear from my throat, bitter and broken, my gaze burning into his. He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t care. All I see is the cold, ruthless man who thinks he can own me, control me, bend me to his will, as though I’m a possession to be managed rather than a person to be loved.

Somewhere beneath the fury, a quieter grief stirs, mourning the man I once thought he was, the version of him I fell in love with before the mask slipped. I turn away, my body shaking with rage, with betrayal, with the sheer exhaustion of fighting a battle I never asked for.

I just want out. I want to breathe air that doesn’t taste like him. I want to leave this house, this life, this man behind forever, and never look back at the wreckage he’s made of everything I trusted.

My fingers close around the doorknob, the metal cold beneath my touch. One twist. One step. Freedom, so close I can almost taste it.

I turn the knob, and the door swings open.

But it’s not empty.

Three men fill the doorway... hulking, faceless, dressed in black, their presence suffocating, their eyes cold and unfeeling. My breath catches, my heart pounding against my ribs like a trapped animal desperate for release. For one dizzying moment, the hallway seems to tilt beneath my feet, the air too thin to fill my lungs.

"What the heck is this, Graham?" My voice cracks, sharp and disbelieving. "You’re holding me hostage?"

I step back, my pulse roaring in my ears, my mind racing through every possibility and rejecting each one as too monstrous to be true. No. No, this can’t be happening. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Not after everything. Not after the years I gave him.

"Take her to her room." Graham’s voice is ice, cold and commanding, cutting through the tension like a blade. "Lock her in. She’s not leaving."

The words hit me like a physical blow, my stomach twisting, my knees nearly buckling beneath the weight of his betrayal. I search his face for some flicker of hesitation, some sign that this is a bluff, a cruel test he’ll call off any second. I find nothing but resolve, cold and immovable as stone.

"Graham!"

The largest one moves fast, ruthless, his hand clamping around my wrist, his fingers digging into my skin like a vise. I scream, jerking back, but he’s too strong, too fast, his grip absolute. Before I can react, he yanks me forward, flinging me over his shoulder like I’m nothing, like I’m cargo, property, a thing to be moved and stored away without ceremony or care.

"Let go of me!" My fists pound against his back, my voice raw with fury. "Let me GO!"

The world tilts, spinning as he turns, my stomach lurching as I’m hauled up the stairs, my legs kicking, my fingers clawing at his jacket, his skin, anything to make him stop. Every jolt of his footsteps sends a fresh wave of nausea rolling through me, humiliation burning hotter than the pain in my ribs.

"Graham, you bastard!" My voice breaks, desperate, pleading. "LET ME GO!!"

The men don’t speak. They don’t flinch. They just move, efficient and relentless, dragging me kicking and screaming toward the guest room, the place that was never home, the place that was always a cage disguised as hospitality. I claw at the memory of every night I spent believing this house was mine, and I hate myself a little for ever having been so foolish.

"Lock the door." Graham’s voice follows me, cold and final, the sound of a man who’s already decided my fate without asking for my consent. "Make sure she’s guarded. Always."

I thrash, my body twisting as I try to break free, my screams echoing through the house, bouncing off the walls like a curse that will haunt this place long after I’m gone.

"LET ME GO!!"

The man’s grip is iron, his shoulder digging into my stomach as he carries me up the stairs, each step jarring my ribs, each breath coming in ragged, panicked gasps that burn my lungs. I twist and thrash, my fingers clawing at his back, my nails tearing through the fabric of his shirt, my voice raw from screaming until it feels like shredded paper in my throat.

"Let me GO!"

My fists pound against his spine, but it’s like hitting a wall - solid, unyielding, cold, utterly indifferent to my pain. The hallway blurs, the chandelier light flickering above me like something out of a nightmare, the walls closing in, suffocating me with the weight of my own helplessness. Somewhere in the haze, I register the absurdity of it all: chandeliers and marble floors, the trappings of a life that once felt like a fairy tale, now the backdrop to my own imprisonment.

"Graham, you coward!" My voice breaks, desperate, pleading, but he doesn’t care. He never did, not really, not in the ways that mattered.

The guest room door swings open, and I feel the shift in the air, heavier, thicker, charged with the stench of betrayal and fear. My suitcases sit already inside, my purse tossed carelessly onto the bed, as though they’re mocking me, taunting me with the freedom I’d almost tasted moments before. The sight of my own belongings, packed and waiting, tells me everything I need to know: this was never a spontaneous act of desperation. He planned this.

The man drops me unceremoniously, my knees hitting the hardwood with a crack that sends pain shooting up my legs. I gasp, scrambling to my feet, my hands outstretched as I lunge for the door, but the second man shoves me back, his hands rough on my shoulders.

"Stay put."

"Fuck you!" I snarl, spinning around, my teeth bared like some cornered animal. Before I can think, I lunge at him, my teeth sinking into the flesh of his arm. He roars, his body jerking back, but I don’t let go. I bite harder, tasting blood, feeling a savage satisfaction in his pain, however small, however fleeting, a single moment of power reclaimed in a night that has stripped me of everything else.

"You bitch!" His hand cracks across my face, the force sending me stumbling back. Stars explode in my vision, my cheek burning, but I don’t stop fighting, even as my body screams at me to surrender.

The sudden heavy thud of the door swinging open echoes like thunder through the room.

Graham stands in the doorway, his eyes wild, his jaw clenched so hard the muscles in his face tremble with barely contained violence. The sight of the man standing over me, his hand still raised, snaps something inside him. In a flash of pure, unbridled fury, Graham lunges forward, his fist connecting with the guard’s jaw with a sickening crack that echoes off the walls.

The guard stumbles back, grunting as he hits the dresser, but Graham doesn’t stop. He grabs the man by his collar and slams him violently against the wall, his face inches from the man’s bleeding mouth, his voice a murderous snarl that I barely recognize.

"How dare you touch her?!" Graham roars, his eyes black with rage, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Who gave you permission to lay a single finger on my wife?! You piece of shit!"

He throws the guard toward the hallway, pointing a trembling, lethal finger at him.

"You’re fired! Get the hell out of my house before I put a bullet through your head! Get OUT!"

The guard scrambles up, clutching his bleeding face, and hurries down the hall without a backward glance. Graham slams the heavy oak door shut behind him, the lock clicking back into place with a definitive snap that feels like a coffin sealing shut.

The sudden silence in the room is deafening, broken only by my ragged breathing and the sound of my blood dripping onto the floor from my split knuckles. The irony isn’t lost on me - that he’d defend me from another man’s cruelty while orchestrating a cruelty of his own far greater than any slap.

Graham turns around, his chest heaving, his eyes locking onto mine. All the terrifying rage he’d directed at his guard melts away into pure, frantic desperation the moment his gaze sweeps over my bruised cheek and bleeding hands, as though my pain has stripped him bare of every ounce of the tyrant he’d been seconds before.

For a fleeting instant, I almost see the boy I first fell in love with, the one who used to trace circles on my palm and promise me forever like it was a fact of nature.

"What else are you going to do, Graham?!" My voice cracks, hysterical, wild as I back away until my spine hits the cold wall. "Tie me up? Gag me?!" I sob, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps, my chest heaving like I’d run a marathon I never chose to enter. "You spineless BASTARD!"

"Elena, baby, please," Graham rasps, stepping toward me with his hands held out, his voice threadbare with something that might have once passed for love. "Look at me. Please just look at me."

"Don’t call me that!" I scream, my voice breaking on a sob. "Stay away from me!"

He doesn’t listen. He closes the distance between us in two strides. Before I can scramble away, his long arms wrap around me, pulling my shaking body flush against his chest.

"Don’t touch me!" I shriek, struggling frantically against his hold. I beat my fists against his chest, my shoulders twisting, my legs kicking out as I try to break free from his suffocating grip. "Get your hands off me, Graham! Let me go!"

But he’s stronger, much stronger, his body a fortress I cannot hope to breach. He absorbs every blow, his arms tightening around my waist like iron bands, pinning my flailing wrists against his chest, trapping me against him until I can barely move, until my resistance feels like nothing more than the futile thrashing of a bird against a cage.

"Shh, stop fighting me, please," he murmurs into my hair, his voice trembling, desperate, completely broken in a way I’ve never heard before. "Just listen to me for one second. You will understand, baby. You will understand why I’m doing this. You are my wife, Elena. You are my wife, and nothing can ever change that. Not a piece of paper, not my mother, not anyone."

"I hate you!" I sob, my head thrashing back and forth, my cheek burning against the fabric of his suit jacket. "I hate you, I hate you!"

"No, you don’t. You’re just angry," Graham pleads, his hand coming up to cup the back of my head, holding me firmly against him while his other arm locks around my waist like he’s afraid I might dissolve into smoke if he lets go. "You’re angry, and you have every right to be. But you love me, Elena. I know you do. Once you calm down, you’ll realize how much we both love each other. You swore it to me, remember? You said you would only love me for eternity."

A harsh, tragic laugh escapes my throat, tearing through the tears running down my face.

"That was before you cheated!" I spit, my voice rising to a raw, ragged scream. "That was before you brought another woman into our bed! That was before you ruined whatever it was that was between us! You ruined it, Graham! Not me! You killed it!"

My words hit him like a physical blow, his grip loosening for a fraction of a second before he tightens it right back, his chest rising and falling violently against mine, as though he’s drowning and I’m the only surface left to cling to.

"We can fix it," he whispers, his voice cracking, eyes brimming with unshed tears as he looks down at me with something that resembles genuine anguish. "You’re just angry right now, that’s all. Once you calm down, we will sort this out, okay, my love? We can rebuild everything. Just stay. Just promise me you’ll calm down."

"I don’t love you anymore, Graham," I whisper, my voice dropping into a cold, dead register that cuts right through his frantic begging. I look straight into his eyes, letting him see every ounce of the hollow void he had created inside me over years of quiet destruction. "I no longer love you."

Graham freezes, his face draining of all color as though I’d struck him harder than any fist ever could.

"No, no, don’t say that. You don’t mean that."

Before I can pull away from his loosened grip, he leans down and covers my lips with his.

It’s a desperate, possessing kiss, heavy with the scent of whiskey and the dark, terrifying need to reclaim what he’s losing. My entire body goes rigid. I freeze in his arms, paralyzed as a traitorous thrill of familiarity washes through my nerve endings. For a split second, my body reacts to the sheer history of his touch... the familiar warmth of his lips, the scent of his cologne, the memory of six years spent wrapped in his arms thinking he was my protector, my safe harbor, my home.

My lips part instinctively, kissing him back for one agonizing heartbeat, falling into the ancient muscle memory of loving him despite everything I know now.

Then the floodgates open.

The memory of Lilian’s smirk flashes behind my eyes. The image of her hand resting on her swollen belly. My mother-in-law’s mocking laugh ringing through the foyer. The cold prenup. The guards dragging me up the stairs like a prisoner. The years of agony, feeling broken and useless while he quietly replaced me with someone who could give him what I supposedly couldn’t.

Revulsion, hot and violent, flares through my veins, drowning out every trace of that treacherous warmth.

I slam my palms flat against Graham’s chest and shove him with every remaining ounce of strength in my body.

Graham stumbles back, caught completely off guard, his heels catching on the edge of the rug as he loses his balance and crashes heavily against the wall, his eyes wide with shock at the force of my rejection.

I wipe my mouth aggressively with the back of my hand, my body shaking so hard my teeth chatter, my gaze burning into his with absolute disgust.

"Stay away from me!" I scream, pointing a trembling finger at him as tears burn hot down my bruised cheeks. "Don’t you ever touch me again!"