Fated To Three, And I Broke Them All

Chapter 145: 145-He Is A Women Beater

Verity:

"When I was asked to choose between you and staying with your stepfather, it wasn’t just about that. Under your stepfather’s protection, I was safe. If I had left with you and your brother, those videos would have been released. I would have been imprisoned for being a whore. Then you both would have been sent to the whorehouse with me. You know the rules."

She was right.

According to the laws our ancestors had made, if a woman was declared a whore, she could either be sent to the whorehouse or imprisoned.

She was allowed to choose.

But if her children were under eighteen and had no other family to take them in, they would be sent with her.

"So if you want to punish me, punish me, Verity. But please understand, I was a victim too."

As she finished speaking, I stood up from the couch.

"I came to see you. I’m glad you’re okay."

I don’t know why I couldn’t say anything else to her.

Tears filled her eyes as she looked at me, as though she wanted me to say more, as though she wanted me to comfort her.

I knew I should have.

I just couldn’t.

I picked up my bag and wheeled it outside.

The moment I stepped onto the road, guilt hit me hard.

I pulled out my phone and typed a message to her.

Me: You’re truly brave, Mother. Maybe I got that strength from you. We will meet again. It’s just that I’m working double shifts right now, but I’ll come during the holidays and spend time with you.

I hit Send, and relief washed over me.

My mother’s reply came almost immediately, as if she had been staring at our chat.

Their Mom: Thank you so much, Verity, for giving me a chance.

After reading it, I took a deep breath and continued my journey back to the place where it had all begun, the place of revenge.

When I arrived home, I was shocked to find Roman already standing outside.

It looked like he had been waiting for me.

I got out of the cab and walked toward the door.

He stopped pacing and immediately headed toward me.

"Why weren’t you answering my calls?" he asked, his eyes dropping to my wheeled bag. "Where are you coming from?" His eyebrows knitted together.

I avoided him and started unlocking the door.

"Can you please look away?" I asked, wanting to enter the passcode.

"No. I’m your boyfriend. The fact that I don’t even have a second key– do you have any idea how embarrassed I was in front of the neighbors?" he asked in one long breath, as though he was afraid that if he stopped talking, I would disappear again.

"Roman, do you want to make a scene here?" I asked softly.

He continued glaring at me before finally turning around.

I quickly entered the passcode, opened the door, and stepped inside.

The first thing that crossed my mind was to shut the door in his face.

I wasn’t ready for a confrontation, at least not yet.

But he barged in forcefully, stepping inside with a dark look on his face, his hands resting on his hips.

The way he glared at me, it was as if I had personally wronged him.

"I need answers," he demanded.

I slowly set my bag aside and turned to face him.

"Answers for what?" I snapped, watching a flicker of concern cross his face. "Because I have questions that need answering too."

The moment I said that, I could already tell he was feeling the pressure.

"Tell me something, Roman. Why is it that I go to your house, eat nothing before or afterward, and the only thing I consume is the breakfast you make? Then I come home feeling dizzy, and when I’m taken to the hospital, they find drugs in my system. Not just any drugs. Drugs commonly used to facilitate assault."

With every word I spoke, I watched his face cycle through a range of emotions.

First, he looked like he understood what I was saying.

Then he looked shocked, followed by guilty, before finally forcing an angry expression onto his face.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, taking a step toward me.

When I stepped back, he stopped as well.

"Wait– somebody drugged you?" he asked, finally reacting the way he should have from the beginning.

"Yeah, Roman. But the only thing I consumed was the breakfast at your place," I replied, reminding him again because he was suddenly acting concerned that someone had drugged me.

"What? I’m not sure. Do you think there was something in the milk I bought from the store?"

I hated how he was acting.

He looked so innocent, so clueless, so eager to help, while pretending he knew nothing.

I knew what I was about to do next could be very dangerous, but I had no other choice.

Taking a deep breath, I finally said the words.

"You did, Roman. You fucking drugged me."

The moment I screamed at the top of my lungs, I watched his body flinch.

His fists clenched. His eyes darkened.

The look on his face was terrifying.

Before he could react, I had already taken a step back, trying to put some distance between us.

It was too late.

"What the fuck did you just accuse me of?" he screamed, charging at me.

He raised his hand, and it came down hard across my cheek, nearly knocking the wind out of me.

Everything went silent in one ear as I collapsed to the floor.

My hand flew to my cheek. It felt like my skin was on fire.

The pain was unbearable.

I hadn’t even processed what had just happened before he came at me again.

He crouched down, grabbed me by the hair, and wrapped his fingers around my neck.

"Do you have any idea what you’re accusing me of?" he hissed into my face, his fingers tightening around my throat until it was almost impossible to swallow.