𝔅𝔯𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔫 𝔅𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔖𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 #2
𝐶𝑎𝑛 𝑏𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒
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Nitya Heer Tiwari had always been the strong one-the loyal friend, fierce and protective to her core.
But when tragedy strikes, h...
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Mature Content Ahead ⚠️🔞
The blonde woman is the one who featured in TrendTrove representing their pieces. It is a rivalling fashion store to Chanel in US.
She has a great poise to herself and the grace of a dancer to her movements but that doesn't makes me any less violent as she tries to hug my husband.
I clench my jaw tightly and if I wasn't aware my teeth will be grinded into powders.
But before I could pull off her high heels and stab it in her eyeballs, Aman moves away from her touch.
Good. I was just planning to dig a hole in his chest with the same heel of her shoes after finishing her off.
"Amber." He nods at her. I turn towards him in question.
So now they are in a first name basis? Talk about hypocrisy.
"Hey Aman." Mr Sprouse intervenes, "I have to greet the others. I am glad we met Mrs Mehra. I hope you enjoy your trip here." He smiles at me and leaves straightening his lapels.
"Mrs.Mehra?" Amber's high pitched voice blares in my ears. Ugghh she certainly lacks in the voice department.
"This is my wife. Nitya Mehra." He introduces me and I extend my hand towards her out of courtesy. Maybe she's a business partner like Mr Sprouse. I don't want to come off as rude despite her trying to hug others husbands.
She narrows her eyes at my hands and wrinkles her nose in distaste like I have gotten something that's contagious so I forget my manners and roll my eyes internally.
There's no specific time or places to sprout bitches. They are everywhere. Especially around Aman.
"We have to go." Aman says in a hard tone noticing her reject my handshake.
"Wait, Aman." She says. Why is she calling my husband Aman?
"You didn't call." She states glancing at me for a second. Like if I would care or not if she tries to hit on my husband infront of me.
The audacity.
"I don't think I should call you Ms Barlowe." Aman rejects her advances and I slide my hand into his palms, he instantly wraps it around mine.
"Atleast let's have a drink. We can talk for a bit." She glances at me, "I don't mind if she's there." She says. The soles of my feets are tempting to pull off my shoes and beat her within an inch.
"I don't drink," Aman says, his voice flat. I whip my head toward him. Why's he lying?
She throws her head back, laughing, showing off the graceful curve of her neck. "Yeah, right! Aman Mehra and drinks? They're practically best friends!" She snickers, wiping at the corners of her eyes.
