1

Samantha

"Thank you, Lauren. We're done for today," I said, fighting back a yawn. I'm super tired.

Thank God it's Friday.

I can go home and rest. No work to bother me.

"Have a good afternoon, Mrs Collins," Lauren, my secretary, smiled briefly before walking out of my office.

I finished up working on my desktop before logging off. I grabbed the important files and put them in my bag. My phone rang as I was tidying up. I smiled when Jackson's name flashed on the screen.

"Hey," I put him on loudspeaker as I walked around.

"Are you busy?" he asked.

"Uh, just cleaning up stuff. I'm leaving the office in a minute," I said.

"Good," he said.

"Why do you—" I trailed off when he hung up. Weirdo. I went on with getting everything I'd need before leaving. I passed by a few employees, and they greeted me. "Have a good day," I said to the guard by the door as he opened the door for me.

"Thank you, ma'am. "You have a good day as well," he said, bowing a little.

Right in front of the door, Jackson was leaning against his sports car, wearing shades. He was yet to notice me.

"You said you were coming out in a minute. "I've been waiting for 11 minutes," he complained right away. I rolled my eyes.

"Hello to you too, bitch," I greeted. He gave me a death glare, and I stuck my tongue out at him. He took off his glasses and eyed me for a split second before pushing himself off of the car. He opened the passenger door.

"Hop in," he said.

"My car's over there." I pointed at my car, where my driver, Jordan, is waiting for me.

"He'll take it to your house; it's fine," he persisted. I pouted, walking over.

"But I wanted to go and rest. I'm tired," I whined, looking up at him.

"Oh, you poor cute thing," he said, mocking me.

I got in, and he took my bag to the back before getting in as well. He eyed his watch for a second before pulling out into the road.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked him.

"To the woods," he joked, smirking. "Got any last words? For your loser of a husband, perhaps?"

"Hey, don't talk about him like that," I said quietly, looking outside the window.

"Whoa, I didn't hit a nerve, did I?" I ignored Jackson, leaning against the window and closing my eyes. The soft purr of the engine lulled me into a deep slumber.

"Samantha?" I hummed when I heard a voice calling my name. "Samantha?" Someone shook me awake. I blinked my eyes open and looked around.

"What happened?" I found myself yawning as I looked at Jackson.

"You've been overworking yourself again, have you?" Jackson eyed me sideways.

"It's work. "It's bound to happen," I said, drawing another yawn.

"You're not always this tired, Samantha. Not even your husband wears you out like that."

"Well, thank you for reminding me my sexual life is a road kill," I mumbled getting out of the car with a grumble. Jackson chuckled under his breath, catching up to me. "Why are we here anyway?" I looked up at the restaurant.

"You have to eat," was all he said.

We walked in the familiar place, tables surrounding the place with barely a passage to walk through. Jackson led me to a private area. Our private area.

Michael was already seated at the table. He stood up when he saw us and pulled out the chair for me. "What happened?" He eyed me. I groaned.

"Do I look that bad?" I asked instead.

Michael sat down in front of me. Jackson was right next to me, on my left. There was an empty space on my right. It's only fair that Michael wanted to be as close to Jackson as possible. Their chairs were almost touching. I love their relationship. They are open and affectionate with each other.

And very kinky.

I shook the thought out of my head.

"I already ordered. Is that okay with you?" Michael asked me.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm starving." I grabbed the glass of wine and took a sip.

"So what's wrong with you?" Michael enquired. I eyed him briefly.

"What do you mean?" I asked him. "There's nothing wrong," I shrugged.

"You're lying to us, Samantha?" His brows furrowed, pointing at himself.

The three of us were friends from way before. From when our parents became friends and introduced us to each other. We hit it off since then. Michael and his mother moved here from Brooklyn because of his abusive father. His mother had been hiding Michael from the moment she found out she was pregnant.

Hence why she ran and started a new life in another city. The best decision she made for the both of them. And thank God, Michael wasn't there to witness it all.

Jackson's parents were divorced, and he'd been staying with his mother until he and Michael started their business. Now they both live together in a huge mansion. flashy, if you ask me. My house is modern and not over the top. I liked my space like that.

We were blessed with an unbreakable bond. Being the only girl in the group, I was their princess. Always. They treated me like royalty. Never a day where they mistreated me.

My two gentlemen.

We had a rocky situation when I married my husband, Martinez. He was jealous of them and constantly accused me of cheating with one of them. Granted, I spent my time with them – the majority of it. I still made time for Martinez and the business.

I wasn't going to abandon my friends now that I'm married. Michael and Jackson don't like Martinez that much. I love Martinez. That's all that matters.

Martinez wasn't financially stable when I met him. Growing up in a wealthy family, I had enough money to take care of him. Now, he works at a construction company. I still take care of him because he's my husband and I love him. You take care of the one you love, don't you.

"Did Lanky ass do something?" I glared at Jackson. They call my husband Lanky Ass. Every time. At this point, I don't think they remember his name.

"Seriously? What's wrong?" Michael asked, seriously

Michael was the oldest at 31 years. Jackson was 28, and I was 26.

The waitress walked in with our food. She looked like the typical flirty type of girl, her uniform a little loose on her chest, showing off her bust.

While my chest was almost flat, I envied those kinds of boobs. Men go for bigger boobs. As a woman, I do possess an hourglass shape with an ass for distraction. Which is why men tend to try their luck with me.

For my Nick Minaj ass. It's annoying as fuck. Even when they see the ring on my finger. As a successful businesswoman, I'm quite known, and people basically know about my life. They are aware that I'm married.

"Enjoy your food," the waitress said, his eyes lingering on Michael, who wasn't paying attention to her. She walked out then.

"She was totally checking you out," Jackson pointed out, eyeing Michael.

"Well, I was checking out your cute ass in those jeans," Michael said smirking when colour rushed to Jackson's face.

I went on to stuff my face while they eye-fucked each other. "Earth to the lovers. I'm also here," I said.

"Wanna join?" They both said, turning to me. I scrunched my face at them. I was used to their flirtatious behaviour around me. I can't say I'm immune to it. "What a lady you are. talking with food in your mouth," Michael said, his eyes roaming my face.

"You're avoiding our question, Samantha," Jackson pointed out.

"That's because there's nothing wrong," I pressed, stuffing more food in my mouth so I don't have to talk. Michael caught my hand and took the fork.

"Don't think we haven't been noticing your behaviour changing. Not to mention you barely keep to our schedule lately," Michael listed off. "And you're always tired. And don't say it's work. You've had this business for five years, and it was never this bad. Already ruled out your lanky lack of sexual engagement," he smirked while I rolled my eyes.

There we go again. Why did I tell them again? Well, I've discovered that I'm a Dominant. Well, in the bedroom. And I like...kinky stuff.

Martinez doesn't.

He never even considered giving us a chance. He'd shut me out and called me 'controlling'. And we haven't been doing so well in bed. I can't even remember the last time he touched me. He's always away on work. When he comes home, he's tired, and I'd have to sleep frustrated sexually.

This has been going on for about 2 years now. At first, I thought that he must be really worn out from work. He works really hard. I thought eventually, he'd snap out of it. I thought he'd give our sexual life a chance.

Instead, he cheated. With my secretary, Lauren. Yep, I have to stare at the same woman who's been sleeping with my husband for a long time now. I'm not one to start the drama, because I know my dirty laundry will be out in the news. I can't handle that drama. I confronted Martinez, and he admitted and apologised.

I was an idiot for forgiving him and giving him a second chance. It took me those two years to realise that I deserve better. That he'll never change. That I need to walk away.

"And you called me one time, in the middle of the night, drunk and crying. Twice," Jackson said.

"I cry when I'm drunk," I lied, avoiding his eyes.

"You don't," Michael said, and I looked away.

I haven't told them about all this, and I'm surprised they didn't catch anything. I must be really good at hiding this.

"Okay, fine." I placed down my fork. They're my friends. They deserve to know. I know they'll support me no matter what. "There's something...that I need to tell you guys." I cleared my throat and looked up at them.

"I'm going to...file for a divorce..."