Scarlett 'Arranged Marriage'

Chapter43

The pair looked up from their make out session to look at me carelessly. I was livid.

“What is this?!” I screamed. Mikayla sneered.

“You just lost your man,” she said, snottily.

I shot her a look and said, “I was talking to my fiancée. Shut it, tramp,” I said. She huffed, and he shrugged.

“She pretty much said it all. I’m with her now,” he said, nonchalantly. My mouth dropped.

“This ring,” I said, stepping forward and holding up my left hand, “says differently.”

With the speed of a cheetah, he raced forward and snatched my engagement ring from my finger. When I looked up again, he was sliding it onto hers. I was stunned.

“Not anymore it doesn’t,” he said to me. I stared into his eyes. They were the same jade green I’d fell in love with. They stared back dull and lifeless into my own, which were threatening to fill with tears.

Christian kissed Mikayla once more and walked off saying that he had to take care of something. Mikayla beamed at me as he walked away. I chased after him.

“What are you doing?” I asked hysterically. He kept walking. I reached out and grabbed his arm.

His reaction was as if I’d tried to hit him. He grabbed my arm, and twisted it behind my back. It really hurt and surprised me. No matter how rude Christian got, he was always a perfect gentlemen.

“Ahh!” I screamed, as he tried to dislocate my shoulder. He dropped me, and I fell onto the carpet. Mikayla squealed with laughter. He continued to walk towards the elevator. Before the doors closed, I slid into the elevator with him.

“Christian!” I screamed at him. He looked at me, enraged.

“Leave,” he said, with quiet malice.

“No!” I shouted. He stepped forward and slapped me. I hit the floor of the elevator hard.

“Leave,” he repeated. I stayed on the floor in shock. The hands that I held as we walked down the hallway, the hands that had comforted me when I was upset or sad, had just hit me.

He stood over me, looked down on me, and kicked me hard in the stomach. I doubled over.

“When I come back downstairs,” he said, “you better be gone.”

With that, he hit the emergency stop button on the elevator, and the doors opened up on the 12th floor. He put his foot on my stomach and shoved me off the elevator. Then, he released the button and the doors closed. I laid on that floor in pain, physically and emotionally.

I watched the numbers on the elevator. They stopped on 16; he was going to our room. I gritted my teeth, got up, and stumbled over to the staircase. With all my energy, I sprinted up those stairs and to our room. I needed to know what was going on.

I panted hard as I reached the landing of the 16th floor. Gripping the wall, I staggered towards our room. The door was cracked. I stepped inside.

Christian was standing on the balcony, heaving my things over the side and into the pool in the backyard. Kristen was in the process of asking him, “what the sam hill he was doing.” He didn’t answer her.