Anghel de Puta

Scarlett:

The Kane house was packed, glittering like a scene out of a society magazine. A huge chandelier hanging in the middle of the room spilled warm gold across the marble foyer. Perfume and polite laughter swirled in the air — the kind of laughter that had my jaw aching from smiling too long.

It was Janet and Mark Kane’s thirtieth wedding anniversary. An event that had been planned for months. Everyone who mattered to them was here: Stephen’s colleagues from Hartley Corp, the Hartleys themselves, high-class friends, and business partners.

I’d been Mrs. Stephen Kane for four years now — wife to the Kanes golden and only son and the Hartley empire’s Chief Operating Officer. My role was simple: smile, shake hands, laugh at the right moments, and look like the perfect accessory on my husband’s arm.

And for most of the night, I’d done exactly that, despite the jabs that came rolling in from the moment I’d walked in.

“Such a shame Stephen and Gianna never ended up together,” one of Janet’s friends murmured.

“They’ve known each other forever,” another added, shooting me a pitying smile.

Gianna Hartley — Hartley heiress, family friend since birth, and my husband’s ever-present shadow — was across the room, her laughter bright enough to cut through the chatter. She wore a silk gown the color of red wine, leaning just slightly into Stephen’s side as if by instinct.

It had been like this for half the night. Glances. Whispers. One guest had even murmured, “Such a shame they never ended up together,” with me standing right there.

I forced my lips into a smile, like I always did, determined no one would see me crack.

The other half was my mother-in-law, Janet, making me run errands here and there, all while pointing out errors in everything I did.

“Scarlett, refill the tumbler.”

“Assist the waiters, why are you just standing?”

“Where are the gifts?”

“How dare you touch the gifts — you'll ruin the wrapping.”

“Serve the guests!”

By the time the night slowed, I stood at a corner, fighting the urge to scream. My chest felt tight. I needed air.

My eyes scanned the room. My husband was nowhere to be seen. Usually, men accompanied their wives at such events but mine preferred entertaining his friends with Gianna glued to his arm. Tonight, it didn’t help that we had argued before getting here.

He wouldn’t even look at me.

I slipped upstairs, into the quieter halls of the house, making my way toward the guest bathroom, the one I knew would be empty.

Except it wasn’t.

The door wasn’t fully shut. A low, muffled sound leaked through the gap — a moan, high and breathy.

“Yes...fuck... Stephen...I want your cum dripping down my legs,”

I froze, pulse quickening, the sound pricking at something deep and ugly in my chest. That voice...that name. Stephen. It could be any Stephen.

While our marriage wasn’t all roses, I believed Stephen had enough decency and wouldn’t... cheat on me.

But still, there was a traitorous tightening in my chest, urging me to take a peek. I thought about morals, privacy, but instead of turning away, I pushed the door open, cautiously.

And my world stopped.

Backing me was my husband, gripping Gianna’s hips, slamming her against the tiled wall. Her dress was bunched at her waist, his pants shoved low on his hips. Her head tipped back, eyes half-lidded as she moaned again — this time loud enough to echo.

“God… Stephen, you're bigger than last time,” she gasped

I froze, my fingers going numb around the doorknob. Last time?

Gianna’s eyes opened first. She stilled just for a second and then her lips curled into a slow, deliberate smirk like I’d just caught her reapplying lipstick instead of fucking my husband. Stephen followed her gaze, turning his head.

For a split second, he froze too. Then he swore under his breath, dragging himself out of her with a groan. Gianna bit her lip at the movement, shameless even now.

My heart lurched but I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. My brain wasn’t processing anything.

We just stared at each other. Them — adjusting clothing slowly, unhurriedly, like I was an afterthought. Me — standing there like an idiot with my whole chest caving in.

Stephen swore under his breath again, avoiding my eyes, not out of guilt but annoyance.

“Scarlett, don’t do anything stupid. Wait, let’s talk about this.” Saying this while helping Gianna straighten her dress.

I blinked, stunned to my bones by the audacity. A mix of rage, shame, and humiliation burned my chest. My eyes blurred with tears as I took a step back.

Downstairs, Janet’s voice rang out, sharp and searching. “Scarlett!” she hissed. “Where is this wench of a woman?”

Something in me cracked.

I turned and walked away, each step laden, my ears ringing, pulse in my throat and my skin cold. The music and chatter felt muffled, like I was underwater.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, Janet was waiting, hands on her hips. “Where have you been? Arielle’s been needing you to help with the boxes for nearly ten minutes. When we host an event like this, it’s all hands on deck. We don’t disappear for private breaks...”

“Then do it yourself, Janet. Don’t you have hands?!” The words burst out of my mouth before I could catch them. My voice was sharp, shaking with the pressure I’d been swallowing all night.

Janet froze, visibly startled. “Excuse me?”

My throat tightened, fury and humiliation clawing their way up. “I’m not your maid. I’m not obligated to run around catering to you like one when you treat me like I’m nothing, Janet.”

“How dare you speak to me like that?” she gasped, eyeing the people who paused to stare.

“It’s been long overdue!” I snapped, turning to walk away only stopping when Julia, Stephen's sister, blocked my path.

“Look at you,” She sneered, eyes sweeping me from head to toe. “Four years, and you still don’t know your place. If not for Stephen elevating you, you're nothing but decoration. Yet, you have the nerve to talk back to his mother?”

She leaned in, her perfume evading. “Gianna would’ve been better. At least she wouldn’t embarrass us like this.”

The words punched through me, raw and deliberate.

I swallowed hard, the weight of what I’d seen finally settling down on me like a rock. Stephen inside Gianna. Their unremorseful reactions to my presence…

I didn't need anyone to tell me that it had been happening for a long time.

My vision blurred. I was shaking.

Gianna appeared, perfectly put together except for the faint smudge of lipstick Stephen had left upstairs. Stephen was beside her, calm, not a single hair out of place. I almost laughed. He was very good at hiding the act it seems.

Janet’s gaze flicked toward the stairs, jaw tightened. “Stephen, control your wife.”

He stepped forward, closing the space between us with deliberate ease, his eyes locked on me in silent warning – not remorse, just a look willing me not to do anything that would tarnish his image.

A scoff slipped passed my lips. He cheated yet I had to act like nothing happened.

For the past four years, I'd been nothing but a loving and dutiful wife to him, keeping my head down and taking the blame, insults, and constant humiliation from him and his family, but today was the final straw.

“Why are you embarrassing yourself?” He hissed, reaching to grab my arm. “Come with me.”

I took a step back. “Don’t. Touch. me.”

The warning came out low, but it was laced with enough venom to still the air.

“Don’t cause a scene, Scarlett.” He warned, taking another step.

The sound of palm against cheek echoed before I realized I’d moved. His head jerked sideways, cheek reddening. The crowd went silent. Someone gasped.

“Don’t you dare tell me not to cause a scene!” I said, my voice trembling from the sheer force of holding myself together.

The silence between us was ice‑cold, thick enough to choke on. My palm still tingled from the slap, but my voice came out steady.

“Since you’re so in love with screwing Miss Hartley,” I said, letting my eyes cut from Stephen to Gianna, “I’ll send the divorce papers tomorrow.”

“Scarlett—”

I cut him off, my voice rising. “Let’s end this so instead of sneaking around in restrooms, she can finally take my place in this perfect little family.”

A ripple of shock passed through the crowd. Gianna’s smirk faltered. Janet’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Stephen’s jaw clenched like he was chewing gravel.

“Enjoy yourselves,” I added quietly, turning on my heel. “You deserve each other.”