𝓣𝓻𝓾𝓵𝔂 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼

❁ Chapter Thirty Two - Fiance

I watched through the window as the woman held his hand with love and warmth, rows of tears running all the way down her face. My expression lacked emotions, but my arms flexed against each other at the anger boiling inside me.

I wanted to rip off her limbs one by one, hang them above her head and let her watch them bleed on top of her as she bled to death. I wanted to tear her apart piece by piece and sell her on the black market. Her petty ass would've made pretty money, even apart.

"She's not his fiance," Damen stated the obvious.

That was clear. If she had been his fiance, she would've worn a ring. But there was no engagement ring on her finger. Not to mention, her outfit screamed anything but taken. She wore a tight leather shirt above the knee with a blue tank top with thin straps that helped hanging it to her slim body. Her high knee boots were black with high heels.

"Though, he looks like he got himself a side chick," Jerome sang in an I-told-you-so voice.

"I'm about to rip someone's head off, so if you don't keep your mouth shut, that head might be yours, Jerome." I threatened, my voice below a growl.

The anger boiling my blood made that threat sound more serious than anything else. I couldn't be blamed. That woman claimed to be his fiance while she looked like his whore. That was mean since I was his whore too, but still...

"You gonna talk to her?" Jerome poked my shoulder, making me let out a pure animalistic growl at him.

I really wasn't in the mood of his playfulness.

"Gee," he muttered, "no need to get defensive..."

"She sounded genuinely worried when she came in." Damen ignored him, just how I did. "I think they did have some type of relationship, can't say how important it was, tho."

"I gotta talk to her." I exhaled uncrossing my arms and planting my palms on my hips. "Then I'll kill her."

Without having one of the guys talk more, I walked past them to open the door to his hospital room. Clenching and unclenching my fists, working my jaw to calm myself down, I managed to relax a bit.

The woman turned at me, hazel eyes curiously gazing me. Her curves were accentuated by her clothing, her hair was black and long, falling over her shoulders in waves, her skin was radiating. She was beautiful. I hated her, but she was drop dead fucking gorgeous.

I hated that she was beautiful.

"Are you the doctor?" Her voice, the voice that sounded so silvery and melodical rang in my ears louder. It was hard for me not to recognise the voice of the bitch who had actually slept with Reeve.

"Do I look like a fucking doctor?" I growled, crossing my arms, my anger raising to the previous level.

She frowned confused, looking me up and down. Then she rose a not interested brow. "Who are you then?"

"His girlfriend," I said shamelessly.

I could see the glimpse of hurt in her eyes as she shuddered at the word, right before she put on a poker face. She scoffed, rolling her eyes at me. "Then why am I his fiance?"