Belittle Me Now And Cry Later

Chapter 5

The maids giggled. Mrs. Sterling smiled with satisfaction.

And something inside Marcus died.

Not completely there was still a tiny spark of life, of fight, buried deep. But most of him the part that had hoped, that had loved, that had believed in goodness and gratitude that part withered and turned to ash.

"You know what the saddest part is?" Marcus asked, looking around at all of them. "I would have done it all again. Even knowing how it would end, even knowing how you would treat me, I would have donated that bone marrow. Because that's who I am. That's who I was raised to be someone who helps people in need, who values life above all else."

He turned toward the door, his soaked clothes clinging to his body, his entire form radiating exhaustion and defeat.

"But I'm done now. I'm done begging. I'm done hoping you'll find even a shred of human decency. My mother is dying, and I won't waste her final hours listening to you people pat yourselves on the back for being cruel."

"Good," Mrs. Sterling said. "Finally, he's being smart. Get out, Marcus. And don't come back."

Marcus walked toward the entrance, each step feeling like it required an enormous amount of effort. Behind him, he could hear Zachary and Lily laughing about something, could hear Mrs. Sterling calling for the maids to clean up the water he'd tracked in and throw away his belongings into the trash box.

They had already forgotten about him. He wasn't even worth their attention anymore.

As Marcus reached the door, Zachary called out one last time.

"Hey, Marcus? Make sure you take your trash with you when you leave!"

At that moment Zachary followed him.

However but before Marcus could fully process the depth of his defeat, before he could even begin to comprehend what his next move should be, he felt it a shift in the atmosphere, a sudden tension that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up despite the cold rain.

Zachary's expression had changed. The mocking smile had vanished, replaced by something far more sinister. His eyes had gone cold, deadly, filled with a calculated malice that went beyond simple cruelty. This wasn't about humiliation anymore. This was about something else entirely.

"You know," Zachary said softly, his voice carrying easily through the sound of the rain, "I don't think we're quite finished here."

As if summoned by those words, figures emerged from the shadows around the estate's entrance. Five of them no, six massive men in dark suits, their builds suggesting years of brutal training and violence. They moved with the fluid grace of predators, surrounding Marcus before he could even think to run.

These weren't ordinary security guards. Marcus could tell that immediately. These were professionals bodyguards, enforcers, the kind of men who made problems disappear quietly and permanently. Of course someone like Zachary wouldn't travel without protection. Of course a billionaire heir would have killers at his beck and call.

Marcus's exhausted mind struggled to understand what was happening. He turned slowly, looking at the ring of men closing in around him, then back at Zachary's cold smile.

"What... what else do you want from me?" Marcus's voice came out hoarse, broken.

"Haven't I done everything you wanted? I've signed the divorce papers. I'm leaving. I'm not part of this family anymore. What else is there? What more can you possibly take from me?"

Zachary descended the steps from the entrance with deliberate slowness, each footfall echoing with authority. The rain didn't seem to touch him one of his men held an umbrella over his head, keeping him perfectly dry while Marcus stood soaked and shivering.

"What more?" Zachary repeated, as if the question itself was amusing. "Marcus, you haven't been dealt with yet. That's what more."

"Dealt with?" Marcus stared at him in confusion and growing fear. "What are you talking about? I'm leaving. I'll never come back. You'll never see me again—"

"No, no, no," Zachary interrupted, shaking his head slowly. "You don't seem to understand the severity of what you've done tonight. You came here and made a scene. You embarrassed Lily in front of the household staff. You disgraced her with your pathetic begging and your disgusting appearance. Do you think that's acceptable?"

Before Marcus could respond, Lily herself appeared at Zachary's side, immediately pressing herself against him, her arms wrapping around his waist in a gesture of such intimate familiarity that it made Marcus's stomach turn. How long had they been together? How long had she been planning this?

"Yes," Lily said, her voice taking on a whining, victimized quality that Marcus had never heard before. "This is exactly how he's been disgracing me all along, Zachary. For years, I've had to endure this—him showing up, making demands, acting like I owe him something just because he donated bone marrow. It's been humiliating."

Zachary's expression darkened even further. His jaw clenched, and Marcus could see a vein pulsing at his temple. "Years of this? Years of him treating you like this?"

"What if my associates had been here tonight?" Zachary continued, his voice rising with manufactured outrage. "They were supposed to arrive any moment my business partners, my friends, important people. What if they had seen this spectacle? What if they had witnessed this... this trash... making demands of you? Making demands of my Lily? Do you have any idea how that would have reflected on me? On us?"

Marcus wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, wanted to point out that he was the victim here, that he was the one whose wife had been cheating on him, whose life had been destroyed by these people. But fear kept his mouth shut. There was something in Zachary's eyes something dark and dangerous that told Marcus this situation was about to get much, much worse.

"For that transgression," Zachary said, his voice dropping to something quiet and menacing, "your punishment will be determined by how you answer one simple question."

He took another step closer, until he was just a few feet from Marcus, close enough that Marcus could smell his expensive cologne so close.

"Have you ever touched Lily?" Zachary asked, each word precisely enunciated. "Have you ever laid your filthy hands on her body?"

Marcus blinked, confused by the question. "What... what the hell kind of question is that? She's my wife, for crying out loud! We're married or we were. Even if we didn't really have a normal marriage, there were still times when—"

"SHUT UP!" Lily's shriek cut through the rain like a knife. She pulled away from Zachary, her face twisted with disgust and fury. "Just shut your disgusting mouth right now!"

She turned to Zachary, her expression immediately softening into something between distressed and coy. "Touched me? Like that? Never. I would never allow such a thing, not with him. The only times he ever touched me were completely innocent holding my hand occasionally, maybe helping me out of a car once or twice. That's it. That's all. I swear to you, Zachary, nothing else ever happened between us."

Marcus stared at her, stunned not by the lie itself but by how easily it came to her, how naturally she twisted reality into whatever narrative suited her needs. They had been married for three years. Three years of living in the same house, of sharing the same space. And yes, their marriage had been cold, had been more business arrangement than romance, but there had been moments brief, painful moments when Marcus had still hoped that love might develop between them.

All of it, apparently, had been meaningless. Worse than meaningless it was now being weaponized against him.

Zachary's entire body had gone rigid. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw working as though he were grinding his teeth. "Even holding your hand," he said slowly, "even that small contact with his filthy skin touching yours... that alone deserves punishment."