After My Fiancé Leaked My Private Photos, I Went Absolutely Mad

I heard them before I saw them.

David’s so-called “brothers” were in the next room, their disgusting voices leaking through the slightly ajar door.

“Damn, her body’s not bad,” one of them sneered.

“Too bad she’s so desperate. Trying to steal Celia’s man? Pathetic.”

“David’s a one-woman guy. He wouldn’t even look at a girl like her.”

Then came David’s voice—low, cold, detached.

“She dares to covet what belongs to Celia? She needs to be taught a lesson.”

My heart dropped. I froze outside the door, my breath caught in my throat.

“She’s ungrateful,” someone said, chuckling. “You treat her too well, David.”

David lit a cigarette, blowing smoke like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“She forced this engagement on me,” he said. “It’s time she paid for it.”

Another guy laughed. “She probably enjoyed the attention. A girl like that? Starving for male validation. No guy’s touched her in years.”

“True. Bet she thinks you leaking those photos was some twisted love note.”

The room erupted in laughter.

And me? I stood there, trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, every word cutting deeper than the last.

I’d always believed we were childhood sweethearts. We grew up together. Our families were practically woven into each other’s lives.

Even if he didn’t love me—Did he have to humiliate me like this?

“Celia loved how I handled it,” David continued, flicking ash onto the floor. “Maelis Whitmoor’s dream was to be famous, right? I’m just helping her get there.”

That was the moment my world shattered.

So the phobia of women? The rigid rules? The cold punishments?

It was all a lie. A sick cover-up. A show for Celia. I remembered the engagement party like it was yesterday.

I’d accidentally brushed his hand during the toast. He shoved me away like I was diseased.

Wine spilled down my dress. Everyone stared. I was humiliated.

“I told you not to touch me,” he hissed. “I don’t like women getting close.”

Later, he told me he had PTSD from a crazy stalker who tried to drug him. He said that’s why he couldn’t bear physical contact with women.

And I believed him. I pitied him. I accommodated him.

I lived in silence, in distance. Never eating meals at the same time. Avoiding shared spaces. Sleeping on the opposite end of the house. Tiptoeing around my own damn life.

I even helped him lie to his family.

All for what?

I ran to his study, my hands shaking as I opened his laptop. His Facebook was still logged in.

Pinned at the top—Celia Davis.

David: Don’t worry. I won’t let any woman touch me but you.

Celia Davis: Good. If you do, I’ll be gone for good.

David: She annoyed me again today. I punished her.

Celia Davis: Ugh. She’s so pathetic. Still clinging to you like some desperate fool.

David: She just loves me too much. That’s why she tricked me into this engagement.

My breath caught. Tears blurred my vision. So that’s what I was to him? A joke. A chore. An obstacle.

They thought I was cheap. That I was clingy. That I deserved this.

But if that’s what they wanted…They hadn’t seen anything yet.