He Loved Her, Not His Wife

Aniya POV:

Donnie was sitting by a hospital bed, carefully peeling a grape. On the bed, propped up by a mountain of fluffy pillows, was Bella. She had a small, decorative bandage on her forehead and was watching a movie on a large screen. She was fine. A few scratches, maybe a bruise. Nothing like my broken bones and internal injuries.

Donnie didn' t even look at me as I lay bleeding and broken on the floor. His focus was entirely on her.

"Is the grape sweet enough, baby?" he asked, his voice dripping with concern.

Bella wrinkled her nose. "It' s okay. But I' m kind of hungry for something else. I want that special bird' s nest soup from The Jade Pavilion. The one that takes six hours to make."

Donnie looked up, his eyes finally landing on me. There was no concern, no pity. Just cold, hard command.

"You heard her," he said, his voice flat. "Go make it."

I stared at him, my mind struggling to process the sheer cruelty. He had his men drag me from a surgical table, a woman with broken ribs and a fractured leg, to make a snack for his mistress.

The injustice of it all-the car accident, being left for dead at the auction, and now this-it all coalesced into a single, explosive point of rage.

The dam of my composure, built over five long years of silent suffering, finally broke.

"NO!" The word was a raw, guttural scream torn from the depths of my soul. "I will not!"

I pushed myself up, ignoring the searing pain that shot through my body. Tears of agony and fury streamed down my face.

"Donnie, are you insane?" I sobbed, my voice trembling. "I am your wife! Your legal wife! I have broken ribs, my leg is fractured! I was about to go into surgery! And you drag me here to cook for her?"

I pointed a shaking finger at Bella. "Look at her! She has a scratch! And you treat her like a queen while you treat me like… like trash! How can you be so cruel?"

I was a mess. My hair was matted with dried blood, my hospital gown was torn, and my dignity was in shreds. But I didn' t care. I had nothing left to lose.

Donnie watched my breakdown with the detached curiosity of a scientist observing an insect.

Bella, however, looked annoyed. She covered her ears. "Donnie, she' s so loud. She' s giving me a headache."

Instantly, Donnie' s attention snapped back to her. He stroked her hair, his expression softening. "I know, baby. I' m sorry. I' ll make her be quiet."

He turned back to me, his eyes now glacial. "Are you refusing my order?"

The threat was unspoken but hung heavy in the air. The memory of the car crash, of his lawyer' s cold warning, sent a shiver of pure terror down my spine.

I looked at his handsome, merciless face, and my heart, which I thought had already turned to dust, somehow managed to break all over again. The fight went out of me, replaced by a cold, hollow despair.

"Donnie," his assistant whispered from the doorway, looking pale. "The board is demanding an explanation for the canceled merger call. They' re threatening to…"

"Tell them to wait," Donnie said, his eyes still locked on me. He then gave an order that made my blood run cold.

"She' s being disobedient. Take her to the cold storage in the basement. Let her cool off until she remembers her place."

The bodyguards moved toward me.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head in disbelief. "Donnie, please…"

They grabbed my arms and began to drag me out of the room. The pain was unbearable, but the cold finality in Donnie' s eyes was worse. He was capable of anything.

They shoved me into a large, walk-in freezer. The door slammed shut, plunging me into frigid darkness. The cold was immediate and brutal. It seeped through my thin gown, biting at my skin. My teeth chattered uncontrollably. The pain in my leg intensified, a sharp, throbbing agony in the freezing air.

I was going to die here. He was going to let me freeze to death.

My survival instinct, a primal force I didn't know I possessed, clawed its way past my shattered pride. I didn' t want to die. Not like this. Not for him.

I pounded on the metal door with my fists, my voice raw. "Okay! I' ll do it! I' ll make the soup! Please, let me out!"

The door opened. They dragged me out and threw me into the hospital' s industrial kitchen. My body was numb, shivering violently, but I moved on autopilot.

Every movement was excruciating. I leaned against the counter for support, my broken ribs screaming in protest. My hands shook so badly I could barely hold the knife. But I did it. I made the goddamn soup.

When it was done, I limped back to Bella' s room, carrying the bowl with trembling hands.

Donnie took it from me without a word. He didn' t look at my new bruises, at the blood that had started to seep through the bandage on my leg again.

"You can go now," he said, his tone dismissive. He gestured to the bodyguards. "Take her to surgery."

As they pushed me onto a gurney, I felt the last tear I would ever shed for Donnie Winters slide down my cheek.

Lying on the operating table, as the anesthesia began to pull me under, I made a vow.

I would survive this.

And I would never, ever let him hurt me again.

It was over. The love, the hope, the marriage. All of it.

Dead.