Chapter 5 - THE UNFORGIVABLE TRUTH
A collective gasp sucked the air right out of the ballroom.
Zariah’s words weren't whispered; they were broadcast across the silent room like a public execution. Michael flinched as if he had been struck across the face with a riding crop. He knew what she was hinting at. He knew the dark, ugly secrets buried beneath the glittering facade of his successful real estate career—the embezzled funds, the forged documents, the predatory loans, and above all, the medical fraud he had orchestrated to convince Zariah she was infertile so she would never leave him or demand a fair share of his burgeoning empire.
"Zariah," Michael hissed, his voice trembling with genuine terror as he lunged forward, grabbing her wrist. "We need to talk. Privately. Right now. Don't do this—"
Before Michael’s fingers could fully tighten around her wrist, Joon’s hand shot out like a striking viper.
Joon caught Michael’s wrist in a grip of iron. The sound of bone grinding against bone was almost audible. Michael let out a sharp, choked gasp of pain, his knees sagging as Joon applied just enough pressure to remind him of the absolute abyss that separated them.
"Never," Joon whispered, his voice dropping to a low, lethal register that only Michael and Zariah could hear, "touch what belongs to me again. Do you understand?"
"I—yes! Yes, let go! Please!" Michael whimpered, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes as the pain radiated up his forearm.
Joon released him with a flick of his wrist, sending Michael stumbling backward into a towering tiered wedding cake. The massive structure wobbled violently, snowy white frosting and delicate sugar flowers sliding down the sides before crashing onto the expensive carpet with a wet, heavy thud.
Chloe shrieked in horror, staring down at the ruined cake that had cost more than a working-class family's annual salary. "Our cake! Our wedding! You ruined everything!" she screamed at Michael, her face contorted in absolute rage.
Zariah looked at the mess on the floor, then up at Michael, who was now covered in white frosting and public humiliation.
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"Don't worry, Michael," Zariah said sweetly, resting a comforting hand over her heavy belly. "You always did have terrible taste in foundations. It was only a matter of time before the whole structure collapsed."
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