He Regrets After The Countdown To Our Divorce

Melissa's POV

"Honey, do you like how my outfit looks for the signing?"

It was a gentle question, more like a soft attempt at getting his attention, a small moment of warmth that I should've known better than to expect.

What I got in return was a hot, undiluted slap that stung my skin and echoed through the room and I'm turn sent ripples down my spine. My head snapped to the side and abruptly my breath caught somewhere between shock and resignation. This was my husband - or rather, the man who wore the title like a crown but treated me like an unpaid servant.

I pressed my palm to my cheek, feeling the sting spread. His eyes burned with the same disgust I'd seen too many times to count.

"Don't act coy with me," Tony sneered, his voice sharp enough to slice through the whole room. "Just because you tricked my mother into marrying me doesn't mean I'll allow trash like you to carry my child."

His words landed harder than his hand. My lips parted, but no sound came out. As I wouldn't dare to talk back to him.

But then, who was even thinking about carrying his child? I thought bitterly. If anything, I would rather sign to carry the child of a mentally deranged stranger than have his. The thought made me almost laugh - not because it was funny, but because that's what pain does when it has nowhere else to go.

If not for my sister's condition three years ago - if not for her needing surgery we couldn't afford, then I would never have agreed to this contract marriage. Never!

Three years. Three years of swallowing pain like breakfast. Three years of silence, of long sleeves hiding bruises, of faking smiles so people wouldn't ask questions. I'd learned how to hide the evidence well. Makeup on the neck and concealer over the cheekbones. Sleeves that covered my wrists no matter the weather.

If one gets used to things they never wished for, then I suppose I had gotten used to this one - to the sharp words, to the cold nights, to being invisible in my own home.

Sometimes, I'd lie awake wondering if I had forgotten what genuine peace even felt like. I used to hope he'd change. That maybe one morning, he'd look at me and see a person instead of a burden. I'd give him "one last chance" over and over again, like a fool clutching at smoke. But the truth has a way of showing itself - Tony Morgan would never change. And I finally understood that he didn't deserve my love, not even the smallest piece of it.

As I stood there, still clutching my cheek, a familiar voice broke through the tension.

"How long will you continue to treat your wife like that?"

It was Mrs. Morgan - Tony's mother - the only person in this family who ever looked at me like I was human. Her voice carried a mix of disappointment and quiet authority. "You know she's the reason Morgan Group rose from nothing to number one. She's far more valuable than anyone else in that company."

Her words made me blink. Not because I hadn't heard them before as she often reminded him of my worth - but because, deep down, I knew it changed nothing. Every time she defended me, it only made him hate me more.

Tony rolled his eyes, the corner of his lip curling in mockery. "Please, Mum," he said with a short laugh. "Spare me that speech. You know I could've done it all without her."

The lie slipped off his tongue so easily.

I turned my gaze away, trying to steady my breathing. He would rather die than admit I was the reason Morgan Group had survived its worst years as pride was the air he breathed.

Mrs. Morgan sighed in a manner that it carried years of exhaustion. "I have seen what you're capable of," she said sharply. "You and I both know it's not much. Without her, the company would've crumbled long ago."

Tony's jaw tightened, his forehead twitching in barely contained anger. The vein on his temple pulsed, and I braced myself for another outburst. He hated being told the truth about me, especially by his mother.

For a second, I almost stepped between them - not out of love but habit. Whenever he looked ready to explode, I instinctively tried to calm him, to take the blame. It was ridiculous how quickly victims learn to protect their abusers.

Mrs. Morgan crossed her arms. "Now, take her to the signing," she ordered, her tone firm and final.

Tony turned to her, his eyes flaring. "Take her?" He let out a harsh laugh. "Mum, she isn't worthy of that from me. I'm the CEO and she's just some overhyped engineer who got lucky. I'll show you what real strength looks like someday."

He stormed out without another glance, the slam of the door echoing behind him.

I didn't move for a moment. My ears still rang from the slap, and the humiliation still burned in my chest. But more than that, I felt the weight of Mrs. Morgan's worried gaze on me.

"Ma'am," I finally said softly, forcing a small, shaky smile. "It's fine. I'll go to the signing myself. I wouldn't want to keep our clients waiting."

She opened her mouth as if to argue but then stopped. Maybe she saw it too - the way my eyes looked hollow, the way my body had learned to fold in on itself whenever Tony was near.

"Melissa..." she whispered. "You don't deserve this."

Her words were kind, but I didn't know what to do with them. Kindness felt foreign now, like a language I'd forgotten how to speak. I just nodded. "Thank you, ma'am." Then I turned toward the door, clutching my files that I would use to seal the deal with the clients.

As I walked down the long hallway, my heels clicking against the marble, my thoughts swirled.

Three more days.

Three more days until the contract expired. Three more days until I could walk away without owing him or his family a thing.

The thought gave me a strange kind of peace that felt fragile, but enough to keep me moving.

Besides, I told myself, I had done everything right. I'd played the role of the perfect wife even when it tore me apart. For three years, I had cooked his meals, cleaned his house, smiled beside him in board meetings, and pretended not to notice when he came home smelling like other women. I'd done my duty not necessarily because I loved him, but because Mrs. Morgan believed there was still something left in him worth saving.

I had believed her once.

But no matter how much I tried, Tony always found a new reason to hurt me - a wrong tone, a late reply, an outfit he didn't like. He'd twist anything into an excuse.

And yet he wouldn't feel any atom of remorse or even apologize.

Still, I stayed.

Not because I was weak, but because I had a promise to keep to my sister. Her surgery had saved her life, and that was the only good thing that came out of this nightmare. Every slap, every insult, every night I cried into my pillow, were the price I paid for her heartbeat.

I inhaled deeply, adjusting my sleeves as I stepped out of the house and into the cool air. The faint breeze brushed against my cheek, making the pain flare again, but at least it reminded me that I was still here. Still breathing, of course.

As I reached my car, I paused for a second, staring at my reflection in the tinted window. The woman staring back didn't look like me anymore. Her eyes looked tired, her skin pale, her smile faint and practiced.

I whispered to her softly, almost like a prayer, "Just three more days, Melissa. Three more days and you'll be free."

Then I got into the car, started the engine, and drove off to another day of pretending everything was fine.

Melissa's POV

"Per the contract, I built Morgan Group into a tech powerhouse. But its growth is fragile. This is a ten-billion-dollar deal locked in stability for the next decade," I explained to our latest clients, my tone professional yet calm. The polished conference room lights reflected off the glass table.

A small thought flashed through my mind, Although Tony wouldn't admit it, this is one thing I'll always be proud of. Something I can finally beat my chest for.

"Yes, ma'am," one of the men across the table said with a respectful nod. "Everyone in this field knows how good you are. That's why our boss sent us here."

I smiled faintly, used to hearing words like that. Compliments like these had become routine, almost mechanical, from first-time clients. Still, they meant something. They reminded me of the one thing Tony could never take away-my competence.

I leaned forward slightly to pass a document, and then afterwards to read and sign the final section.

Just immediately, my phone buzzed on the table. One glance at the screen, and my chest tightened and I noticed that the caller was Tony.

A chill ran through me. I didn't even have to think and so I grabbed the phone immediately. The last time I missed his call during a signing, he'd accused me of "flirting with clients." I could still remember the blow that followed and the taste of my own blood as I tried to explain.

He never listened.

I pressed the phone to my ear. "Hello..."

His voice exploded before I could finish. "King's Presidential Villa! Get your worthless ass over here right now, you bitch!"

My throat went dry. The clients exchanged confused glances, and I forced a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "Excuse me, please," I murmured, turning slightly away.

"Tony," I whispered, careful not to let my voice shake. "I'm in the middle of an important signing. Can this wait just a little? I'll meet..."

"Disobeying my orders, bitch?" His voice rose even louder, venom seeping through every word. "If you're not here in ten minutes, consider yourself dead meat."

The line went dead before I could respond.

For a moment, all I could hear was the faint buzz of the fluorescent light above me. My mind scrambled to make sense of it-why he'd called, what could possibly be so urgent but deep down, I already knew it didn't matter. When Tony said ten minutes, he meant it.

I took a deep breath, forcing my heart to steady. It must be something important, I told myself, though I knew that was wishful thinking. Still, I couldn't risk testing his patience now. The contract of all of these had a clause that has stuck to my mind in the past three years-obedience without conditions. And Tony loved using it to remind me of my place.

But then, that familiar whisper of hope pushed through the fear. Just three more days, I reminded myself. Three more days, and this nightmare will end and I'll finally walk away.

A throat cleared in front of me, dragging me back. One of the clients shifted in his seat. "Everything okay, Mrs. Morgan?"

I forced a nod, the corners of my mouth lifting into a tight smile. "Yes, of course. I apologize. That was... urgent."

"Should we proceed?" another asked, politely but with a flicker of irritation.

I wanted to-God, I wanted to finish this deal.but my mind was already racing through traffic routes, calculating time. From here to the villa was a seven-minute drive, maybe less if I sped. He'd already given me ten minutes.

My pulse drummed against my throat.

"I'm sorry," I said finally, closing the folder in front of me. "Something unexpected came up. We'll need to reschedule and then the HR will reach out to you soon."

Before anyone could respond, I was already standing. Their disappointed faces blurred as I gathered my files and phone, whispering a quick "thank you" before hurrying out. The elevator doors closed behind me, and only then did I let out a shaky breath.

Three days, I repeated to myself. Just three more days.

The drive to King's Presidential Villa felt longer than it should have. My grip on the steering wheel was tight and my knuckles pale from the pressure. The car stereo hummed quietly, but my thoughts drowned out the music.

Every red light felt like a countdown. Every passing second, I imagined what his face would look like, which would probably be tense, furious and ready to explode.

When I finally arrived, the guards recognized the car immediately and waved me through to the reserved parking.

As I stepped out and went towards his usually reserved space here at the Kings presidential Villa, the sound of faint music floated through the hall. I followed the noise quietly, my heels clicking against the marble floor. With each step, the voices grew louder and of course his voice among them.

"Everyone praises Melissa," Tony was saying, his words slurred slightly. "Even my mother treats her like royalty. But deep down, she knows everything she has is because of me. I'm the only one that truly matters in the Morgan group of companies!"

I paused by the doorway, my stomach twisting. That was a typical Tony-bragging, drunk on attention and self-importance and to think that it was almost predictable.

I should've turned around. But instead, I pushed the door open.

The smell of alcohol hit me first. Then the sight of Tony in a tailored suit, laughing too loud, tossing bundles of money into the air like confetti. The people around him cheered, their glasses raised, feeding his ego.

My heart sank. So this was why he'd called me here-so I could watch his little show.

I took a small breath, trying to keep my tone calm. "I'm here," I said finally, my voice low but steady.

He turned, eyes narrowing. For a moment, I thought maybe-just maybe-he'd say something civil. But instead, a sharp sting exploded across my cheek.

The force threw me slightly off balance. I stumbled back, catching myself against the edge of a wall. The crowd went quiet, their laughter dying into awkward silence. Someone gasped and some others whispered.

A single tear slipped down my face, uninvited. I wasn't even sure if it was from pain or from the humiliation that came with it.

Tony smirked, his tone dripping with disdain. "Took you long enough. Did you crawl here like the snail you are?"

I blinked rapidly, trying to hold back more tears. The room blurred for a moment, but I forced myself to stand tall. I'd been through worse. I wasn't going to crumble here, certainly not in front of them.

I checked the time on my phone, my voice trembling just a little. "I was four minutes late."

His expression darkened. "Four minutes too long."

He turned back to his friends, laughing as if nothing had happened, leaving me standing there with my cheeks burning, heart pounding and dignity slowly bleeding out of me.

I pressed my palm gently against my face, feeling the warmth of the slap seep into my skin. Inside, my thoughts whispered the same silent prayer they always did:

Just three more days, Melissa. Three more days, and you'll finally be free. It wouldn't last forever.

Melisa's POV

I managed to look up, holding my cheeks from the hot slap I just received like a gift from him. The sting spread across my skin like wildfire, and for a second, all I could hear was the ringing in my ear and the faint murmurs of people around. My chest tightened, but I forced myself to keep my voice steady.

"The company which was 'signing venue' is not very close to here. But I care to know, why the urgent call?" I asked, trying to keep my tone polite, even though my voice trembled slightly. Maybe I just wanted to confirm if the slap was really necessary, but deep down, I already knew the answer. It was never about reason with Tony-it was about control.

He didn't even blink or flinch. His expression stayed cold, like he hadn't just raised his hand against me in front of people. "You know, nothing much." He paused, then clapped his palms together dramatically, pretending like he'd just remembered something. "Oh! Anyway, you're right on time, right? My shoes are dirty."

He leaned back lazily on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, and then, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, he placed his right shoe on a seat in front of him. "So, I called you over to... lick them clean."

For a moment, I thought maybe I misheard him. Maybe it was the ringing in my head or even the chaos of disbelief clouding my brain. But when I looked around and saw the way the people in the room shifted uneasily, trying not to make eye contact, I realized he meant every word.

My lips parted, but nothing came out. That wasn't just an insult-it was an open humiliation and myy heart sank. Must he belittle and degrade me every single time, just to prove a point?

He snapped his fingers sharply. "Sophia!"

My eyes followed the sound of his voice. The said 'Sophia' stood beside him, dressed like she belonged in his world of filth-short dress, bright red lips, and an air of arrogance that made my stomach turn. She smirked when he called her name and immediately leaned forward to light his cigarette, having her manicured fingers brushing his chin.

Of course, she was here. The same last who'd sent me those smug glances at every company event, the one who acted like she had already replaced me in every way that mattered.

Tony inhaled deeply and exhaled right in my direction and then the smoke hit my face. "C'mon! What are you waiting for? Start licking immediately." He snapped.

His voice cut through my frozen thoughts like a blade. My heart pounded so hard I thought the whole room could hear it. Now, it seemed like I could feel everyone's gaze on me, waiting, watching. That's what he wanted-to make me small. To make me a show out of all of these.

He grinned, his eyes glinting with mockery. "Everyone is waiting to see how you do it. Don't keep us waiting so long."

My throat burned. "Tony, are you serious now?" I asked softly, my tone cautious but firm enough to show disbelief. "I left an important signing for this?"

I hadn't even finished before his eyes darkened. He moved towards me with the kind of rage that made people flinch away from his path. I could already feel it coming before his hand even touched me.

In one swift motion, he grabbed me by the arm and yanked me closer, his breath hot against my ear. "More important than me?" His voice was venom. "Who the hell do you think you are? Do you think Morgan Group needs you?"

His grip tightened, and I tried to steady my breathing, but he pushed me so hard that I stumbled backward. The sound of breaking glass filled the air as I crashed into a table. Dozens of wine glasses shattered around me, the liquid spilling down my clothes and seeping into my hair. My hands stung with cuts, but I didn't even feel them-not over the humiliation.

Gasps echoed around and I could feel their eyes piercing through me. Some turned away while others whispered behind their hands. But no one moved to help me.

Tony took a drag of his cigarette, leaned forward, and blew the smoke right in my face. "Look at you," he sneered.

I stayed there on the floor, frozen. I heard someone whisper, "Isn't Melissa a tech titan now?" Another voice followed, hushed but curious. "Isn't she his wife?"

And then another, sharper one said, "Why is he so cruel to her? Isn't he afraid she'll leave?"

I almost laughed bitterly. If only they knew.

Tony turned to face them, smirking like their words amused him. "A tech titan? Don't make me laugh." He gestured toward me like I was nothing more than a cheap trick. "That's way too out of her league. She's just a product of Morgan Group's money. Throw enough cash, and anyone could do what she does. Even better."

His words stabbed deeper than any slap could. I wanted to scream at him, to remind him how many nights I stayed awake fixing his mess, how many projects I saved when he was too busy entertaining girls like Sophia. But I said nothing.

He crouched slightly, his shadow looming over me. "You? To leave me?" he said, mocking the murmurs he'd heard. "You heard them, right? That you would leave me? I could bet my life you wouldn't ever dream of that."

I met his gaze this time. My lips trembled, but I didn't look away. Inside, though, my thoughts were on fire. You don't even value your life, Tony to have bet with your life that I can't leave you. But soon enough, you'll know what it feels like to lose everything you think you own.

But of course, I didn't dare say it out. At least, not yet.

He grinned again, a cruel, knowing smile. "You can't leave Morgan Group, and you know that." He grabbed my chin and lifted it roughly, forcing me to look at him. The pressure hurt, but not as much as his words. "You're addicted to the life I've given you. You don't even have the guts to walk away from me."

He squeezed harder before finally letting go. My face burned, but my pride hurt more.

When he turned away, I wiped the corner of my lip where his hand had pressed too hard and at the same time, my mind screamed. Everything tied to him disgusts me. The company, the name, this fake life. I don't care anymore.

But I stayed silent. You know, I had to. Three more days. Just three more days.

"All right now!" Tony's voice boomed again, sharp and taunting. "Back to what we were saying before you tried to prove stubborn. I think I've placed you where you belong."

He went and rested his leg back on the seat, tapping his shoe lightly against it. "Come on," he said again, voice dripping with mockery. "Crawl over here and lick my shoes."

The whole room went silent as I stared at him, my chest rising and falling and anger simmering around everything that has to do with my existence. Should I finally break it all out now-every truth, every secret, every plan I've kept hidden-or should I hold on for a few more days and let time do my revenge for me?

But on second thought, I decided, 'The wait will be worth it.'

Because when the countdown finally ends, Tony Morgan will learn that the woman he thought he owned was never his to begin with.