Chapter 7 The Moment She Snapped

• The night was silent.
• Too silent.
• No footsteps echoed down the grand halls of the estate. No music filtered through the air. The city buzzed beyond the gates, alive and chaotic. But here? Inside his empire—her gilded prison—it was still. It had always been still.
• And she had grown used to that silence, mistaking it for peace.
• Tonight, it tasted different. Like the sharp edge of a blade pressed to the back of her throat.
• She stood near the window of the master bedroom—the one she was rarely allowed to sleep in. She wasn’t allowed much. Not comfort. Not kindness. Not love.
• Only him. On his terms. When he wanted.
• And God help her, she’d always taken it. Every cruel word. Every cold touch. Every time he brought another woman home and made sure she heard the moans echoing through the walls. Because she wanted to be enough. Because some sick part of her believed she could make him love her.
• But tonight… he hadn’t even bothered to look at her.
• She heard the front door before she saw him.
• Heavy, confident steps. The scent of expensive whiskey and a woman’s perfume—sweet, floral, and not hers. Her heart stuttered. Not in fear. She had long since learned not to fear him. Pain had become her closest companion, her familiar.
• No… this was something else.
• She turned just as he stepped into the room.
• And he looked through her.
• Not at her. Not even past her. Through her.
• Like she was a ghost.
• She swallowed. “You’re home late.”
• He tossed his jacket across the armchair and loosened his tie. “Didn’t realize I needed your permission.”
• She flinched, but recovered fast. “You don’t. I was just—”
• “Just what?” he cut in, voice sharp, eyes finally sliding to her like a blade. “Waiting up for me? Hoping tonight would be different?”
• Her throat tightened. “No.”
• Yes.
• He smirked, cruel and slow. “Don’t lie, pet.”
• He called her that when he wanted to remind her what she was.
• Not a wife.
• Not a partner.
• A possession.
• He walked past her, shedding his vest, his shirt. His chest glistened with sweat. Lipstick smeared faintly along his collarbone. Someone else had kissed him tonight. Someone who meant even less than she did.
• Still, her eyes betrayed her. They followed his every move.
• God, she was pathetic.
• “I made dinner,” she whispered.
• He paused. Turned.
• “You what?”
• “Dinner,” she repeated, her voice tighter now, shame burning in her chest. “I thought maybe we could eat together.”
• He stared at her for a long beat. Then—he laughed.
• Not a chuckle.
• A deep, mocking laugh that filled the room and cut her in places his fists never had.
• “You thought we’d eat dinner together?” he repeated. “Like a real couple?”
• She said nothing. There was nothing to say.
• “You really haven’t figured it out by now, have you?” His tone turned colder than ice, than death. “You were never more than convenience.”
• Her breath hitched.
• “I married you because I needed someone to keep the Board quiet,” he continued. “Someone obedient. Loyal. Easy to control. And you were perfect. So fucking desperate to be wanted.”
• “I…” she started, voice breaking. “I only ever tried to love you.”
• He moved fast.
• Faster than she’d expected.
• In one blink, he was in front of her, towering, dangerous. He gripped her chin hard enough to bruise. “Love? Is that what you thought this was?”
• She didn’t answer. Her heart was breaking too loudly in her ears.
• “You were a warm body to fuck,” he whispered. “Nothing more. And now that I have what I need… I’m done pretending.”
• Her knees buckled, but she didn’t fall.
• She wouldn’t fall. Not yet.
• “You’re free to go. Don’t bother packing,” he said with a cruel smile. “I’ll have someone burn your things.”
• Her head snapped up. “You’re… throwing me out?”
• He shrugged. “You served your purpose. Now you’re just in the way.”
• Tears welled, but she refused to let them fall.
• Not here.
• Not in front of him.
• “Where will I go?” she asked quietly.
• “That’s not my concern,” he said, brushing past her. “You’ll survive. Or you won’t. Either way, it doesn’t matter.”
• She watched as he walked to the bed, laid down like he hadn’t just destroyed her.
• Like she was less than nothing.
• A shadow in the room.
• A stain to be scrubbed out.
• And something in her cracked.
• Not a small fracture.
• A break. Deep and jagged.
• The kind you don’t recover from.
• The kind that changes everything.
• She walked out of the room without another word. The marble floor chilled her bare feet. Her breath came short. Fast. Her chest hollowed and swelled all at once.
• She didn’t cry.
• Not until the door clicked shut behind her.
• Not until she reached the car and drove herself away.
• No guards stopped her.
• No one cared.
• And when the mansion disappeared in the rearview mirror, so did the last piece of the girl who had once believed in love.
• 👑
• Three years later, the world would speak her name with reverence and fear.
• But tonight, all that remained of her was the whisper of her sobs against the cold night air.
• And the promise she made to herself as her broken heart finally turned to ash:
• He will kneel.
• And when he does… he’ll beg for the mercy I once begged from him.
• But she wouldn’t grant it.
• Because some monsters don’t deserve saving.
• Some kings deserve to be crushed beneath the heel of the queen they created.