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After You Broke Me,I Became Untouchable Novel Cover

After You Broke Me,I Became Untouchable

Marian Pruitt believed her husband, Herman James, was a devoted, frugal man sharing a cramped rental with her. But an anonymous tip leads the police officer to a multi-million-dollar estate, searching for a captive fiancée. Just as Marian dismisses the absurd accusation as a mistake, a petulant voice echoing from the luxury garden shatters her reality. Faced with undeniable proof of Herman’s double life, Marian must confront a shocking web of wealth, secrets, and ultimate betrayal.
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Chapter 3

Marian forced herself to stay calm, keeping her voice flat. :“It's nothing……”

Before she could finish, Herman stormed over, his face dark with rage.

Her chest tightened. She thought he'd found out.

Instead, he seized her wrist.

“Did you tell Sandra about us?”

She froze, unable to process the question.

“She's gone! No one can find her anywhere! Do you have any idea she's pregnant? She can't handle this kind of shock. How could you be so vicious?!”

Sandra was pregnant?!

Before she could think it through, the pain clamping down on her wrist made her gasp. She shook her head.

“I don't know what you're talking about! I never said a word to her!”

“Still lying! Go! Find her and bring her back right now! And apologize! If anything happens to Sandra or that baby, I will never forgive you!”

He dragged her toward the door without giving her time to put on shoes.

Marian stumbled out of the villa and into the car as it tore off.

Herman burned through every connection he had before they finally tracked Sandra down to a seedy bar tucked in a dark corner of the city.

The lighting was low and suggestive, the air thick with liquor, perfume, and sweat.

Shadows tangled in every corner, laughter mingling with whispers.

Through layers of pulsing neon haze, Marian spotted Sandra on the stage immediately.

Barefoot, Sandra dropped to her knees in front of the pole and rose again like a cat, all sinuous provocation, drawing wild screams and sharp whistles from the crowd below.

She looked nothing like the innocent girl she usually played. Heavy makeup, a cigarette pinched between her fingers, trading easy flirtation with the men around her as if she'd done it a thousand times.

Marian could feel the fury radiating off Herman beside her. His knuckles were white, his jaw locked so tight the muscle twitched.

He couldn't hold back any longer. He charged onto the stage in long, violent strides, ignoring the uproar around him, and yanked Sandra hard into his arms. Those eyes, burning with rage, swept the room like a threat aimed at every man who dared look her way.

Sandra shoved against his chest and broke free, her expression mocking. “What do you care?”

Herman's face went ashen. He snatched the cigarette from her hand and crushed it, his voice a low snarl:“You're carrying my child. How the hell do I not care?!”

Sandra laughed, but her eyes reddened almost instantly.

“A child? You have Marian Pruitt. What do you still need me for?”

She clapped both hands over her face, her shoulders shaking violently, tears spilling in heavy drops.

“You're with the one person I hate most in this world. I should have known. You only did this to punish me for leaving you back then. And I was stupid enough to still hope.”

She wrenched out a crumpled termination report and hurled it at Herman.

“You did this. You killed our baby!”

Herman grabbed the report, his eyes raking over it. He staggered back half a step as though the ground had been knocked out from under him.

Marian had never seen Herman lose control like this. His eyes were raw red, and tears fell without warning.

A sound tore from his throat, strangled and barely human.

“How dare you……that was my child too!”

The next second, he lunged forward like a man unhinged, scooping Sandra up despite her thrashing and cursing, and carried her out. Ruthless. Absolute.

A bodyguard locked onto Marian from behind, gripping her arms and forcing her into the car after them.

They returned to the villa.

Herman turned his head. “Brenda.”

A woman descended from upstairs.

Brenda Marsh had been the late Mrs. James's most trusted enforcer.

Back when the old Mrs. James cleaned house, no one could count how many mistresses had their faces ruined by those hands.

Herman's gaze settled on Marian, heavy and cold.

Brenda understood at once.

She closed the distance in quick strides, seized a fistful of Marian's hair, and wrenched her toward the door. “Shameless little homewrecker, showing your face here? Have you got no shame? Young as you are and already whoring yourself out as some man's side piece!”

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