Fucked Raw By My Enemies

Ivy’s pov

My husband is gay. I knew this because he was currently fucking my step-brother, Jake, in his brightly lit office on the eighteenth floor of Kingsley and Co.

They didn’t even hear the door open. Flecks of amber light shone on Angel’s tousled mocha hair as it flailed with every thrust.

His face was scrunched up in a portrait of pure, unadulterated ecstasy, one he no longer had for me.

It felt like an iron was crushing my windpipe, stealing air before I could even scream, and I stood at the door, my right hand trembled so violently against the cup of hot coffee Pamela had been so kind to get me.

It was December 31st, and Kingsley and Co. had twenty floors and only three offices on this one, mine, and the two idiots currently proving they didn’t need a fourth.

I’d come down from Father’s office, report on Italy in hand, only to find him gone and my husband very much present, thirty feet away, moaning something filthy into my step-brother’s shoulder as he rammed into him like a ferocious dog.

”Oh baby, just like that-”

Nausea rolled up my throat, threatening to explode and spill vomit all over the brown carpeted floors.

My body swayed as vertigo hit me hard, so I dug my red Louboutin heels hard into the carpet to keep myself from stumbling backwards, unable to believe what was happening right in front of me.

How could he? How could they?

Jake was bent over the desk, his black trousers pooled at his ankles beside Angel’s, and both bastards were stripped down to nothing like they hadn’t bothered to fully undress before they couldn’t wait anymore.

”Pound that ass nasty, baby. Yeah, yeahhhhh, don’t fucking stop—”

Different questions flooded my confused mind.

How long had this been going on, weeks, months, since our wedding night? Was this the true reason for the late nights? The emergency office sleepovers?

With shaky, trembling fingers, I reached into my handbag, hanging off my left forearm, fishing out my phone. The wallpaper display was a picture of Angel and me at Wisteria waterfall, beaming into the camera with raindrops from the waterfall behind us, gleaming in the sun.

That was three years ago, a few months into our marriage, and I had hoped, like a fool, that we would at least be happy with each other even though our fathers had arranged our marriage. I had hoped he was an angel as his name implied.

Turns out Angel was a devil only hiding the horns attached to his head when they sent him to me from hell.

I swiped it open and thumbed record, I would be damned if I left here without evidence.

My husband gave a low grunt; his face contorted with pleasure as he grunted. ”Look at how well you take me, good boy. You feel that? All of this is yours.”

All of this is yours?!

The brown coffee cup in my hand dented with a snap from how hard I gripped it. The black lid popped off, and with all the fury burning in my chest, I threw the black swirling hot coffee at the rutting assholes.

The steaming liquid splashed right on Angel’s back, seeping into his white shirt and Jacob’s shoulder, dousing the papers on the desk along with the sleek black laptop right next to them.

”WHAT THE FUCK?” Angel wrenched back, yanking free, snatching his ruined shirt off the floor like it might still save him.

Jake yelped, slapping uselessly at his own scalded arm.

Idiot, he had always been a blasted idiot, a greedy, self-serving, opportunistic asshole who was hell-bent on taking every single thing I owned, my father’s love, the company, and now, now my husband.

”Really, Harper?” Jacob scoffed, his blue eyes rolling in their sockets as he glanced up at Angel. ”I told you to lock the door.”

Vile venom crawled up my throat, and the urge to claw his face with my nails nearly overtook me. Let’s see if he could still roll those damned eyes when I drag him out in a freaking body bag!

”She wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow,” my sniveling asshole of a husband grumbled, tossing his coffee-soaked white shirt at my feet with a wet slap sound.

Make that two body bags.

”You’ve got some nerve,” I spat, clenching my teeth, storming forward with the phone tightly held in my right hand as I hauled the empty brown cup at his stupid head.

It landed with a light thunk on his face, smearing light drops across his pale, flabby skin. ”You both have got some fucking nerve! How dare you, Angel?! You’re screwing my stepbrother!”

”Gee thanks, Captain obvious,” Jake drawled, reaching down to pull up his pants to cover his sorry excuse for a dick.

”Are you done crashing out or should I invite the whole floor for a watch party?” A blasted smirk graced his face.

Red-hot anger brewed in my blood, the urge to scream the building down raged inside me. I could have every outlet in this city running that footage by morning, and I could run a smear campaign against this rotten sack of shit.

But even as I pictured the headline, Kingsley Heir’s Husband Caught fucking his Brother-in-law I could feel Father’s disapproval settling on my neck like a noose, I owed him a lot more than to do this.

”Now, don’t go crazy, Harper.”

My eyes boggled in their sockets. ”I’m the crazy one?”

”Tastes change, Harper, I had wanted to tell you for a long time

”You’re an insane son of a bitch! Just wait until my father hears about this!”

Jake threw his head back in a laugh, dropping into the grey chair like this was a rom-com. His shirt hung open, his hair a wreck, his lips swollen, and for one clean second I imagined clawing at his face until he was in a pool of his own blood.

”Go ahead,” Angel stepped closer, stopping just a few feet away from me, stepping right over his discarded shirt.

His hand shot out to grab the phone from my hand, but I snatched it out of his reach and threw a punch to his face. Pain shot up my knuckles, but I didn’t care.

He stumbled a few steps back, brown eyes blazing in anger. ”Oh please, you can’t blame a man for wanting something... harder! You know what? I can’t even hide it any more. You are nothing but a frigid passion-killing vanilla waste of cum, Harper. That’s all you are. All you’ve ever been for the past three years while you gallivanted around the world.”

The tears came hot and humiliating, and I hated how weak my voice sounded fighting them. ”I was in Italy trying to close a deal for this family, you told me to go-”

”And you left him. Someone had to take care of him while you were off pleasing Dad.” He tossed me a nauseating wink.

”You should be grateful he’s keeping it in the family, dear sister. That’s not cheating, it’s sharing.” Jake chirped like the nasty demon he was, his stupid lips pulled up in a mocking smirk.

Sharing.

My lips fell apart in shock, and my vision went white at the edges with fury. I turned my gaze to Jacob, my eyes narrowing into slits. ”You bottom feeding scavenger picking at the scraps of a marriage you helped ruin! Does it feel good? Being the second choice in all you fucking do?”

Jacob’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, and he made a tsking sound with his teeth.

”Maybe I’m second. At least I’m wanted.”

That was the last straw, so I lunged towards him, not caring that Angel and the freaking desk were in the way. ”I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you, Jake!”

Angel’s arm grabbed my waist, holding me back to protect Jake while the coward scrambled out of the chair, cackling.

”Let go!” I screamed, slapping and kicking at Angel until his arm loosened. I stepped away, breathing hard, anger, pain, and shame pumping through my veins.

”After tonight, you’ll be lucky if you still have your dick. We’re over, Angel! We’re fucking over.” I gripped the handle of my bag, the leather groaning under my strength.

”You’ll be hearing from my lawyers. I’m going to strip you of everything until you’re as hollow as your excuses.”

I turned to leave, but Angel’s voice stopped me, a low, manipulative drawl that made my skin crawl.

”We both know you wouldn’t dare.”

The room went ice cold, so I froze, my back to him, my heart stopping in my chest.

”Come on, Harper darling, let’s be real. We aren’t having a divorce.”

The tears were back, and my nails dug deep into my palm as I fought the tears with every part of me. I wanted to scream that he was way over his head and I was going to dump his ass.

I wanted to scream that he had no idea what was coming for him, but the words caught in my throat, because of Him.

Father already had a million reasons to be disappointed in me after what happened fourteen years ago, and this, walking away from the one arrangement that was supposed to finally even the ledger, would hand him a million and one.

I had spent years trying to claw my way back into his good graces, and I was one signature away from losing it all over a man I didn’t even want anymore.

Not yet. Not until he finally looks at me with love again.

”Exactly,” Angel chuckled behind me, stepping closer until I could feel the heat of his chest against my back. His disgusting breath whipped against my ear as he leaned in to whisper.

”You can’t ever leave me. Even if you wanted to. So, if you’re done throwing a tantrum, be a good girl and go home. I’ll join you soon—”

I spun around and drove my knee up between Angel’s thighs, digging deep into his crotch. He doubled over and crumpled down to the ground, screaming pathetically as he clutched his balls.

”I may not be able to divorce you yet, but I’ll make sure you regret this, Angel.” I said, stepping over him, ”Both of you will!” I glared harder at Jacob before turning on my heel and storming out of the office.

My heels clicked like thunder against the hard floor as I strutted to the elevator. Kingsley and Co had twenty floors, with my father’s office being at the top and Angel’s father, Anthony Braddock, on the nineteenth floor.

I slammed the button for the ground floor, taking deep breaths in and out, chanting in my head.

Don’t cry, don’t cry. He’s not worth it. Wait until you get home.

The metallic doors whirred open once I reached the ground floor, so I pasted a faux smile on my face, crinkling my eyes so I wouldn’t burst into tears, and stepped out, keeping my spine straight as a rod.

Bodies moved around me, employees in suits, walking around the lobby and tipping their heads in greeting.

”Mrs. Kingsley, good to see you.”

”Welcome back!”

”How was Italy?”

I tilted my lips into the practiced smile, heading straight for the revolving doors. Pamela’s desk sat just before the revolving doors as the receptionist, and her head whipped up as I approached, her dark eyes crinkling in the corners as she beamed up at me, immediately circling the desk.

Pamela’s voice stopped me before I reached them. ”Harper! Leaving already?”

”Yeah.” My voice came out rough, and I hated it.

”You really need to rest, you look stressed.” She pouted, holding up a white envelope like it was a peace offering. ”There’s a masked party tonight I was supposed to go to. Got a real date instead, so the ticket’s just sitting here. Cost me a grand. Want it?”

I took the envelope without a second thought, for once in years, I wanted to do something reckless. I needed to feel alive again. ”Thank you, Pam. I owe you one.”

If my husband could bury himself in my step-brother on New Year’s Eve, I could do whatever the hell I wanted tonight.

I told myself it was about revenge, and I told myself a lot of things on the drive home, that I’d go for an hour, throw back a drink, remind myself I still existed outside of being someone’s disappointing wife.

I did not expect to still be standing in a stranger’s grip five hours later, my back against an elevator wall, his hand fisted in the fabric at my hip.

”That’s the thing with all you sons of Adam,” I breathed, glaring up at him through the mask, ”you all are entitled pricks who think you can take whatever you want and never answer for it.”

His fingers tightened on my arm, hauling me flush against him until my heaving breasts crushed against his open black shirt, his bronze chest gleaming under the elevator lights.

”Mhmm. Are we?” His voice was dark honey, and it slid straight down my spine.

”Not a very nice thing to say to someone who just did you a favor.” He rocked his hips into my belly, and I felt exactly how hard he was through the thin silk of my dress, and a low moan slipped out of me before I could stop it.

”Especially when I’m feeling very entitled right now, to take what I want.”

Coffee, bourbon, and smoke clung to him, thick enough to drug my senses.

Twelve hours ago, I’d been a good wife on a plane home from Italy. Now I might be letting a stranger in a mask fuck me.

How the hell had I ended up here?