Broken ✔

Chapter Fifty-One

Song: P-Square — Chop My Money Remix ft. Akon & May-D.

*Unedited*

"Slow down, slow down, my ribs hurt!" I yanked my hand away from his, wrapping an arm around my ribs.

He stopped, turning back to glare at me. "They weren't hurting when he had you against the wall."

"What... how does that relate to you dragging me around?" I bent over slightly to catch my breath, resting my weight on my uninjured leg.

"You keep forgetting that you came here..." he trailed off, looking down the hall to see if anyone would hear, then he came closer to me, "for a reason, and it was not to be a cheating bitch."

"I'm not cheating on anyone."

"Don't act like you don't know what I mean! That," he pointed to the room that we just came out of, "right there was someone's husband!"

"What is it to you?"

"Did you ever consider how that would make her feel?"

I scoffed. "You're not my moral compass, leave me alone."

He averted his eyes with his lips pressed into a thin line. "You're just a whore," he didn't wait for me to reply before he started walking away quickly.

I waited to catch my breath and was about to follow him and insult him back, when the queen herself appeared in my line of view. I don't think she realised that I was there, she nearly walked past me before she really looked and saw who I was.

"You..." she took a breath like she was mentally preparing herself to talk to me, "where's the chief?"

I really really didn't like this girl. Maybe I just never liked girls who were close to Michael, but I hated her even more than all the other girls. No one with a British accent had the right to rule over anyone in my country. Heck, her ancestors colonised and brutally murdered our people. Her being the queen was such an insult and a harsh reminder of everything we've been through.

"Why don't you find out yourself?"

"You were just in there with him."

"And?"

She sighed and came closer to me, folding her arms. "I can sense that you don't like me, and I don't particularly know why—"

"You don't know why? Maybe it's because you have the audacity to call yourself a 'queen'. You are not and will never be queen of anywhere in this country or in the whole of Africa."

"What are you talking about?" She frowned. "Maybe my accent is a bit misleading? I'm Ghanaian born, I studied in the United Kingdom but I am very African."

Well... how could I have expected that Michael would let a foreigner be queen? He was stupid, but not that stupid. I felt stupid too but I wasn't about to let that show. "There is nothing wrong with the education here."

"I never said there was," she sighed, "I studied in the UK just because I got a scholarship and my family wasn't doing so well then. We're back on our feet now but I can't just get rid of my accent like that."

"I didn't ask for your family's history," I retorted, trying to leave.

She didn't let me leave, of course. She grabbed my arm just as I was about to walk past her. I quickly snatched it back and turned around to glare at her.

"Look, you must be the sweetest person ever, and at one point, the most important person in Michael's life based on the way he talks about you, but please, allow him to move on. You two aren't good for each other, you'll never work! All you're doing is causing each other heartache. Just look at you and your boyfriend, you obviously have something special—"