My Cold-Hearted Husband Wants Me Back
Chapter 46: Hubby

Chapter 46: Hubby

Back in the studio, the photographer let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head dramatically. "Lunara, you’re too stiff. Loosen up a little! Do you even know how to pose properly?"

Lunara pressed her lips together, forcing herself to stay calm. He was just doing his job. Nothing personal. "I’m sorry, sir. Let me try again." She bowed slightly.

"Here, let me help."

Before she could react, he stepped closer, his hands landing on her shoulders. At first, she told herself it was fine, he was just adjusting her posture. But then his hands lingered. A little too long.

They slid down her arms, brushing her elbows, then lower.

Her stomach tightened.

Still, she held back, trying to believe it was unintentional. Maybe he was just particular about his work. Maybe she was overthinking it.

But then his fingers pressed against her waist.

A cold shiver ran down her spine.

"Excuse me, sir?" Lunara’s eyes narrowed as she looked at him sharply.

"What?" He tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, so subtle that only Lunara seemed to notice.

Something snapped. "What are you doing?"

"What? I’m just adjusting your posture." His hand slipped lower, brushing against her in a way that made her blood boil.

Without thinking, her hand shot out, smacking his camera. The force sent it crashing to the floor.

A heavy silence fell over the studio. Gasps filled the air as all eyes turned to them.

The photographer’s face twisted in rage as he stared at his fallen camera. "Do you have any idea how much this costs?!" he snapped. "You’re paying for this. Right now!"

Lunara was still frozen in place, her hands trembling slightly.

His anger only grew at her silence. "What? You think just because the chairman recommended you, you’re better than everyone else?" He let out a sharp laugh. "Wake up. You’re just a mere model with a pretty face. That’s all."

Lunara’s breath hitched as she stared at the broken camera on the floor. Panic crept in.

"H-How much is it?" she asked, her voice unsteady.

The photographer scoffed, crossing his arms. "More than you can afford."

"How much is it?" She repeated the question, slightly annoyed.

The photographer sneered, "Do you think you can pay me back? I demand for you to pay right away and if not..." he leaned closer, "One night is enough." He whispered.

Lunara’s body tensed. Her fingers curled into fists as she took a step back.

"What did you just say?" Her voice was quiet, but there was a sharp edge to it.

The photographer smirked. "You heard me."

Lunara didn’t hesitate. Her hand flew across his face with a sharp slap that echoed through the studio.

Gasps filled the air. The photographer’s head snapped to the side, his cheek turning red. For a moment, he stood frozen in shock. Then, his embarrassment twisted into rage.

"You—!" His hand lashed out, striking her back.

Lunara stumbled, a stinging pain spreading across her cheek.

"You think you’re some big deal?" he spat. "You probably got this job by spreading your legs! Girls like you... acting all high and mighty, when we all know how you really climbed up!"

She bit her lip, holding her anger inside. Her fists clenched at her sides, trembling slightly.

Every fiber of her being screamed at her to fight back, but she knew better. Losing control now would only give him more reason to humiliate her.

Instead, she lifted her chin, meeting his glare with unwavering eyes. "Are you done?" Her voice was steady, but there was an edge to it, something like a quiet warning.

The photographer let out a harsh laugh. "Oh, look at you, pretending to be all high and mighty." He met Lunara’s sharp glare, sneering. "What? Do you think you’re innocent?"

The tension in the studio was suffocating. No one dared to move, their eyes darting between Lunara and the photographer.

He took a step closer, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. "You think slapping me makes you righteous? Makes you better?" He scoffed. "You’re nothing but a pretty face with connections. Without them, you’re worthless."

Lunara’s nails dug into her palms. The sting on her cheek burned, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter.

"Pathetic," he spat. "Acting all pure and untouchable, when we all know the truth. Maybe the chairman took a liking to you. Maybe that’s why you’re here, playing the victim."

Her patience snapped.

"You disgust me," she said coldly.

The photographer’s smirk faltered for just a second before twisting into a snarl. "Where do you think you’re going?! Pay for the camera!" He grabbed her hand harshly, squeezing it tight.

Lunara winced at the pain. "What are you doing? Let me go!"

"Pay me back, or..." His grin turned vicious. "You already know another way. I’m sure you’re used to it."

"Let me go first! I need to call my..." She paused, gulping. "Husband."

"Husband?" He let out a mocking laugh. "Are you joking? You mean your sugar daddy?"

Lunara frowned, anger flashing in her eyes. "I clearly said to my husband! And for your information, Mr. Photographer, I am married!"

He laughed, still unconvinced. "Sure, sure, whatever you say. Go ahead, call your ’lovely’ husband. But honestly? I doubt he can pay me back either."

Lunara yanked her hand free and strode toward the makeup room, her steps quick and tense. She reached for her phone, but before she could dial, the photographer’s mocking voice rang out.

"Make sure you make the call in front of me!" he sneered. "I want to personally tell your husband how much he owes me."

Sighing, she walked back out and stood in front of him. Taking a deep breath, she silently prayed that Eryx wouldn’t be busy. She had glanced around earlier, but he was nowhere to be seen.

One time, two times and finally the third ring, the call finally connected.

"Hubby."