Let me Hate you by Anjaani (top reads txt) 📖

Wife or Whore?

Feeling humiliated, she walked out of the room.

“Rat, jerk, idiot, devil, bastard,” she murmured while rubbing her grumbling stomach and continued with cleaning the file cabinet; However, she was feeling dizzy; she didn’t step out again, fearing another outburst from Amaan.

During the entire meet, Amaan was furious, recollecting her disheveled look and how everybody was staring at her. Though he masked his emotion, he was eagerly waiting for the meet to end.

Once the meet was over, he searched for Asmaira and finding her still in the same look. He lost his cool. Pulling by her arm, he dragged her to his cabin, slamming the door loudly. He roughly threw her on the couch.

What did I do now? She was immediately thinking of an answer.

She was already dizzy due to hunger, and Amaan’s throwing her on the couch worsened her situation. She closed her eyes to overcome her dizziness.

“Do you have any sense, or you forgot to use your brain?” Amaan shouted at her.

With no strength to answer, she lay on the couch.

Mistaking her silence as her stubbornness, he pulled her up and said, “What the hell is wrong with you? If not for yourself, think about my family’s reputation. How dare you come like that in front of others?”

“I am sorry, please; you are hurting me,” Asmaira whispered, still ignorant about her mistake.

“Look at me when I talk,” he jerked her again.

By then, she lost her consciousness and fell into his arms. He froze when the moment Asmaira’s body touched him. He forgot to react. Her head was on his chest. He took time to realize the situation, and when he did, he immediately called Tara.

“Asmaira, wake up,” he said while patting her cheeks; that is when he noticed her skin was hot.

“Shit! Such a nuisance she is,” he cursed.

Initially, he thought to confront her about what happened in the meeting, but looking at her fever, he had no option but to drive her back home. He hated the feeling that was rising when he carried her in his arms.

No wonder Raina was always concerned about her, he cursed, looking at her pale face.

When Fariya noticed Amaan carrying Asmaira, her first reaction was, “What did you do to her?”

“Ma, relax; she just fainted and has a fever,” Amaan said indifferently.

When Asmaira woke up after a few hours, she noticed she was on the bed, and she was wearing a different set of clothes. While she was contemplating who changed her clothes, Amaan entered the room, and looking at her terrified expression, he smirked.

He could read what she was thinking.

“No need to say thanks,” he snickered.

“Thanks for what?” Asmaira questioned.

“For changing your clothes,” he immediately added.

“What!” She stopped dead hearing Amaan.

Holding tight to her quilt, she screamed at me; yes, this time, she screamed, having enough of his ill-treatment.

“How dare you touch me?”Asmaira shrieked.

“Dare? Then watch me.” With that, he started marching towards her in anger. 

She dared to shout; maybe she forgot her place. He thought.

Seeing that she had only angered him, she crawled back, not knowing what to do next. He roughly grabbed her shoulders, making Asmaira close her eyes in pain.

“Look at me when I talk,” he grabbed her hair, forcing her to look at him.

“First, you dare to enter a conference room in your immodest look. Didn’t you see how everybody was looking at you? Though I let you go, now you dare to raise your voice. Yes, I changed your clothes. Isn’t that what husband do?”

“You are not my husband, and you have no right to touch me,” Asmaira meekly tried to fight back, holding her tears which already welled up.

“Oh yeah? Then what are you doing in my house, in my life and especially in my bed?” pausing for a second as if thinking, he added, "as far as my understanding goes, either a wife or a whore will lie on any man’s bed. If not a wife, are you my whore?”

Asmaira gasped in shock. She stopped and looked into his deep emerald eyes with a hurt look. He deliberately humiliated her every day, yet she endured, and today he called her a whore.

To add more to her misery, he said, “Though I have seen the whores better than you.”

“I am waiting for an answer,” he reminded her by pulling her hair.

Lowering her eyes in humiliation, she replied in a low voice, “You are my husband.”

“Wrong answer, sweetheart,” he mocked her.

“Your wife,” she whispered, still not looking at him.

“What?” purposefully he asked.

“I am your wife,” she sighed in defeat.

“Gosh! Though you are pathetic for my taste, still I have to live with you,” having said that, he pushed her back in disgust.

“Now get your filth off my bed and change the bedding and get my coffee in 10 minutes; because of you, I have stalled my work.” He didn’t even look at her sorrowful face and started working on his laptop.

You can do it for Asmaira; you have to do it for Raina, she consoles herself.

When she walked out of the room, she bumped into Maya, carrying a food trolley with her giving her a surprised look.

“Ma’am, you are awake; I just stepped out to get your food. Madam asked me to make you a soup.”

“I’m fine,” suddenly Asmaira thought.

“Maya, who changed my clothes?”

“I changed, Ma’am. Was there something you are looking for in your clothes?” Maya replied, noticing the change of emotion on Asmaira’s face.

“No, no. I am heading to the kitchen. Let’s go,” she beamed, knowing the truth.

Meanwhile, Amaan was waiting for his coffee and his next strike on Asmaira; however, a maid served him coffee to his dismay. When he inquired, he was told that Fariya is with Asmaira.

Shit! That little witch got lucky this time. He thought.

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