My Broken Voice, My Undeniable Power

Chapter 4

Word Count: 689 | Released on: Today at 18:26

room and slammed the door shut, locking Fa

layer of toxic skin. I pulled a heavy, black, custom-made silk evening

gilded double doors of the Plaza

plush carpet, instantly becoming the absolute cente

ess, impenetrable smile onto my face. I played the

uscles in his jaw were ticking. He was still s

olding court. She wore a violently bright red, dee

behind their champagne flutes. Their eyes darted back

filled to the brim. She locked eyes with me and began

of eyes watching my every move, I couldn't take a single step backward. Growing up in the

ly, her ankle buckled. She threw her upper b

k champagne sloshed out and hit

e fabric. It plastered the heavy silk directly agai

least five cell phones discreetly rise into the air

yes went wide in a cartoonish display of ho

at the massive, sticky stain ruining

ush the liquid off my skirt. As she lea

r voice dropping to a venomous, triumphant whisper

nails. But the smile on my face did not cr

s drag over her smug, gloating face w

ron. I waited for my husband

acle. He frowned, his eyes dark wi

ver my soaked chest. He didn't reprimand

step away from me. He

out his immaculate silk pocket square, a

ed her, his voice low. He completely ignored

ransformed into open, cruel snickers. Their

ssie's fingers. The very last, microscopic

shed a single drop of champagne off my col

derful even

Chapter End

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My Broken Voice, My Undeniable Power

Baxy Koseluk Modern

“The camera flashes felt like a firing squad, dragging me back to the night I lost my baby five years ago. My husband, Faron, sat in the front row, his hand on his mistress Kassie's thigh, utterly ignoring my public humiliation. This was the thirtieth time he'd made me a joke, and it would be the last. For three years, I played the dutiful Blackwell wife, shielding Faron from his endless affairs. At a press conference, a reporter's question about his yacht booking with Kassie shattered my facade. Faron, smiling at his mistress, completely ignored me. The last filter I viewed him through instantly shattered. Later, Kassie deliberately spilled champagne on me at a gala. Faron, instead of helping, tenderly wiped it from her. She hissed, "Faron said you just lay there. Fucking you is like fucking a dead fish." This venomous taunt, after thirty public betrayals, snapped my sanity. Chained by my mother-in-law's threats, my pain was expected. My silence demanded. But I was finally done. With a cold, empty void, I slammed the folder shut. I dropped the family crest. "Have a wonderful evening, Faron," I said, turning and walking out. I left him and his suffocating charade behind.”