Ex Husband's Worst Nightmare

LAUREN

Samantha knocked sharply on the door, her presence already filling the air. Before I could even reach for the handle, she shoved it open, barging in with two heavy suitcases.

"Move," she snapped, not sparing me a glance as she shoved me aside. I stumbled back, barely catching myself against the wall.

"What the hell, Samantha?" I shot back, fury rising.

She didn't care. "Help me with my luggage," she ordered coldly, her eyes scanning the mansion like she owned it.

I grabbed the suitcase, teeth clenched, following her upstairs. Every step she took radiated superiority, and it made my blood boil.

We walked back downstairs and Raymond, my husband, was already sitting on the couch. I couldn't ask him why Samantha was in our home.

I dare not.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Samantha sneered, already unzipping one of the suitcases. "Or are you going to do something useful for once?"

"Lauren, cook for Samantha," Raymond said, his voice steady, but edged with impatience.

I froze in the doorway, staring at him. "Honey, we have a maid," I muttered, my voice barely a whisper. I couldn't believe this was happening.

Raymond's expression darkened. He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest as if he was trying to decide how best to make his point. "Are you saying I don't know what I'm saying?"

A cold dread pooled in my stomach. This wasn't a request-it was an order. He was making sure I knew my place.

I swallowed, bracing myself. "I'm not your servant, Raymond."

"I said cook, Lauren," he growled, his voice a low growl filled with authority. "Get your damn hands to work."

Samantha's laugh rang out, sharp and mocking, as she lounged on the couch, enjoying every second of my humiliation. "Do as he says, dear," she sneered. "It's not like you have anything better to do."

I bit back the words, fists clenched. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. I forced myself to the kitchen, step by step.

Time dragged. Every second felt like a punishment, each one a reminder of how far I'd fallen. My husband ignored me, and Samantha, once my sister, had become my worst enemy.

I finished cooking, hands trembling, heart racing. There was no escape. I had to face them.

But the sight in front of me was enough to knock the air out of my lungs.

Raymond was on the couch, shirt half off, pants unzipped. Samantha was on top of him, moaning as if it were normal. No maids around-though even if they were, it wouldn't matter. This wasn't an accident. It was deliberate.

I froze, heart racing. The plate slipped from my hands, crashing to the floor with a deafening smash. I stood there, shaking, feeling smaller than ever in my own home.

Before I could even comprehend what I had just witnessed, Samantha's eyes locked onto mine, and she moved with surprising speed. She quickly pulled on her clothes, a mocking smile curling at the corner of her lips. "If that plate drops or breaks, you're in trouble, Lauren," she sneered, her voice dripping with malice.

I opened my mouth to say something-anything-but the words died in my throat. I was suffocating. I wanted to scream, to run, to destroy something. But there was nothing I could do. I had no power here.

"Samantha, Raymond is my husband," I finally managed to whisper, my voice barely audible, but thick with disbelief.

She shrugged nonchalantly, not even bothering to hide the venom in her tone. "And so?" she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, as if it meant nothing. "What does that have to do with anything?"

I could feel my heart pound in my chest, the blood rushing to my head. I felt like I was suffocating, like the walls were closing in on me.

"Where is the food I asked you to prepare?" Raymond's voice cut through the air, as harsh and demanding as ever. "I just finished having sex. I'm hungry."

I couldn't look at him, but my legs moved before I could stop them. I grabbed the plate, hands trembling, and stormed back to the living room. I slammed it down in front of Raymond. He didn't even glance up. His fingers brushed mine, dismissive, like I didn't even exist.

Samantha snickered, her voice sharp. "Go on, pour me the juice. I am thirsty."

I slammed the glass down in front of Samantha. She didn't even look at me, just took a slow sip, relishing every second of my discomfort.

I stood frozen, unsure of what to do next.

"Sit," she ordered, her voice cold, sharp. "Eat what's left. You're not too good for it, are you?"

Her eyes drilled into me, full of disdain.

I forced the food down, feeling it like ash. My hands shook, but I refused to let Raymond see it. His cold gaze never left me, waiting for me to crack. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

He grabbed his car keys, the command following quickly. "Come on, Lauren. We're going to see my mother."

I wanted to refuse, but the words wouldn't come. Before I could react, Samantha cut in. "No, let me go with you, Raymond."

He shot her a look, his voice sharp. "We're not going to see her. She's coming with me to donate blood. Will you go?"

Samantha just shook her head. "No I wish to, but I am fragile, let her do it."

I felt my chest tighten, my mind screaming. But I swallowed it down. I couldn't argue. "I'm not donating blood, Raymond," I said, voice strained. "I haven't eaten for days."

His lips twisted into a cruel smirk. "But you just ate our leftovers," he mocked. Then, without warning, he yanked me by the wrist, dragging me toward the door. "Get in the damn car, Lauren."

Before I could protest, Raymond yanked my hair, the sting sharp and unforgiving. I bit back a scream, refusing to give in.

The ride was suffocating, the silence thick. Samantha's presence hung over me like a shadow, mocking me in silence.

At his mother's house, Raymond didn't wait. He shoved me out of the car, dragging me inside. His mother sat there, cold eyes scanning me.

"So, you're the one my son chose," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "Even though I don't like you, I don't have a choice and I hope you're ready to do what's required."

I nodded, the needle piercing my skin. The pain blurred, the moment suffocating. I stared at the wall, refusing to show weakness.

Hours later, it was done. Raymond didn't speak. We drove back home in silence, the weight of it all crushing me.

As we pulled up, Samantha was already waiting at the entrance, arms crossed, her smile sharp.

"How does it feel, Lauren?" she sneered. "To be nothing more than a tool in your marriage? I am going to take everything that belongs to you dear sister, you don't have to be greedy"

"What do you want? Why can't you just stop bothering me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Divorce, give your husband to me, tell them you are engaged with another man, tell them you cheated on him and to pay him back you are giving him your sister, lie, just do anything." Samantha shot back at me.

I scoffed. "My reputation-."