He Chose my Cousin, so I Chose Revenge

Today was supposed to be unforgettable.

I had just closed a thirty billion dollar contract, the largest deal my company had ever landed. It took me months of negotiations, endless revisions, and a final pitch that pushed every limit I had to bag this deal. But I did it. It was sealed. Signed before noon.

I spent the rest of the afternoon in my office, replaying how I would tell Roman. I could already imagine his smile. He used to say no one could close a deal like I did, no one could turn numbers into poetry the way I could. He said it with pride in his voice back then. I wondered if he would say it again tonight.

Today is our anniversary. I felt so happy and achieved.

Three years of marriage, ten years of shared history. We had grown up together, we built a life together. His parents died when he was just a boy, and my family had taken him in like he was one of our own. He was at every birthday, every graduation, every awkward holiday dinner. He was the boy next to me in every school photo, and the man waiting at the end of the aisle the day we said our vows.

After college, I launched my textile company from the ground up. I brought him in as a board member because he was my husband. Because I believed in us. Because I thought we were building something that would last forever.

I drove home with roses in the passenger seat and a smile I hadn’t worn in months.

As I pulled into the driveway, something in me shifted.

It was too quiet.

The house looked the same as always. Clean white walls. Warm porch lights. Everything in its place. But the silence pressed against the windows like a warning. The air felt colder, tighter.

I stepped out of the car slowly, my heels clicking against the driveway, the bouquet of flowers I had bought him still in my hand. The door was unlocked.

That’s strange because Roman never left the door unlocked. My heart began beating fast.

The living room lights were on, but there was no sign of him. No music, no scent of food, no shoes by the door. I called out his name once, gently, like maybe he had dozed off in the den.

No answer.

I walked upstairs.

I heard a low laugh, soft and familiar before I reached the step. It was a woman’s voice. Something inside me turned. I couldn’t place it whether it was from what I was about to witness or just plain anxiety.

My pulse began to pound in my ears. I didn’t want to believe what I was already beginning to understand.

The door to our bedroom was half-open. I pushed it the rest of the way.

And my world fell apart.

There, on my bed, were Roman and Alessia.

My husband and my cousin. My brain took time to process what was going on in front of me. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it.

They didn’t move.

They saw me, and neither flinched. They were draped across the bed like I was the one intruding. Like I had interrupted something I had no right to see.

Alessia sat up slowly. Her long dark hair tumbled over bare shoulders. She didn’t cover herself out of shame. She didn’t even look guilty. She smirked.

Roman looked me in the eye, then leaned back against the headboard, like this was just another evening.

It took me several seconds to breathe.

“What is going on?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Alessia was the first to answer. Of course she would be the one to answer.

“We’ve been meaning to tell you,” she said smoothly. “It just never felt like the right time.”

She stood from the bed, calmly wrapping the sheet around her. It was the sheet I had picked out. Egyptian cotton. It was our wedding gift.

“You were supposed to be at work,” she added, as if my early return was the real crime.

Roman stood up, unapologetic. “You’ve been so busy lately. The company takes everything from you.”

I stared at him. “So this is how you deal with it? You sleep with my cousin?”

Alessia laughed quietly. “Oh, please, Noelle. Spare us the dramatics. You’ve always acted like everything revolved around you. Your company. Your deals. Your image. You never noticed how miserable he was.”

“I noticed when he stopped looking at me,” I said. “I noticed when he started staying out late and blaming meetings that never existed.”

Roman’s jaw clenched. “You never listened. You only talked about goals, contracts, expansion. You used to come home and fall asleep before I could even say goodnight.”

“And that gave you permission to bring my cousin into our bed?” I snapped.

Alessia rolled her eyes. “You never appreciated what you had, Noelle. You acted like Roman was lucky to be with you. But you were the lucky one.”

I turned to her, rage simmering beneath the surface. “You were a child when you came to us. You had no one. My parents raised you when yours didn’t want you.”

“And they loved me for it,” she said, her voice cold. “They loved me more than they ever loved you.”

The words hit like a slap. I swallowed hard, steadying myself.

Roman stepped between us, arms crossed. “Look, we didn’t plan this. It happened. But maybe it’s for the best. Maybe this is what we all needed.”

I laughed. A bitter, hollow sound.

“You think this is a fresh start? You think you’re walking away clean?”

He didn’t answer.

“I brought you into my life, into my company. I trusted you both. And now you stand here like you’ve won something.”

Alessia’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe we have.”

The urge to slap her suddenly came to be. I didn’t. I couldn’t let them see me weak. I wouldn’t let them see that they affected me. I stared at her, at him, at the bed we used to share, and I felt something inside me turn to stone.

“You can keep the bed,” I said. “You’ll need something familiar when everything else is gone.”

Neither of them responded.

I walked out of the room, down the stairs, and out the front door without another word. The night air hit my skin, and for the first time in years, I felt completely alone.

I sat in my car, hands shaking, mind blank. Everything I had believed in had shattered in a single moment.

There was no going back.

I started the engine, pulled out of the driveway, and left everything behind.

But just before I turned the corner, I looked back one last time.

The upstairs bedroom light was still on.

Their shadows moved behind the curtains.

And then I saw it. Alessia, standing at the window, her arms wrapped around Roman’s waist as she smiled down at me.

She waved.

Like she had won.

That was the moment I stopped shaking.

Because I knew I wasn’t going to cry.

I was going to bury them both with everything they stole from me.