Behind the glamorous facade of a billionaire marriage, a toxic game of cat and mouse is unfolding. Maya Perkins thought she had it all - a jaw-droppingly handsome husband, Larry Jonathan, a life of luxury, and a love that would last forever. But when Larry's obsession with Brandy Owens, the seductive widow of his late friend (and campus sweetheart!), threatens to destroy everything, Maya is forced to make the one phone call she swore she'd never make. Lies, deceit, and betrayal collide in a shocking tale of love, lust, and the true cost of perfection. Will Maya survive the wreckage of her marriage, or will she become the latest casualty of a love that's gone lethally wrong?
View MoreChapter One: Fractured Promises
Maya's POV
I rested my chin on my hand, staring out the window as the tree-lined avenue blurred by. The scent of freshly cut grass wafted through the air, but I couldn't appreciate its sweetness. Not when my mind was preoccupied with the elephant in the room.
"Alright, cheer up. Do you really have to get so worked up over her?" My husband, Larry, spoke in a calm voice, breaking the prolonged silence.
I turned my head to look at him, my gaze steady. "You promised me it would just be the two of us." The words came out laced with a mix of disappointment and accusation. "This wasn't part of the plan."
Larry averted his gaze, looking out the window. "I was just giving her a ride. We know her situation. Ever since her husband passed away, she's been miserable."
My eyes narrowed. You sure know her situation inside out, considering how much attention you've been giving her. But I swallowed the words, knowing they would make me seem jealous. Instead, I kept calm and said, "I'm not targeting her. After all, you're the one who made promises to me, not her. Don't forget what's important here."
I hinted at something more serious, but Larry didn't respond. "Larry, I'm talking to you." I said, swallowing hard. "And I know you can hear me."
"Why do you always do this?" Larry asked, his tone tinged with frustration.
"Do what?" I snapped at him.
"Act paranoid," he responded calmly.
I felt a surge of anger, but I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I already explained to you."
"And I also need you to listen to me." Larry said. "You keep talking, but you never listen."
The tension between us was palpable, like a living, breathing entity. It was suffocating me.
Just then, the car door opened, and a delicate hand rested on the frame. Brandy smiled as she stood by the car, breaking the tension with a cheerful, "Sorry to keep you waiting. Can we get going now?"
God damnit! She smelled heavenly, like a field of roses on a warm summer day.
She slid into the backseat effortlessly, as if completely unaware of the tension in the air. The car started again, and I sighed inwardly, hoping to rest for the remainder of the drive.
But the car wasn't silent for long. Brandy's voice filled the space, and I felt suffocated by the conversation.
"Sigh, life has been so hard lately. The house feels so empty. I've been all alone, and there's no one to talk to. I'm so grateful to you both, especially you, Larry. If it weren't for you, I don't know how I would've coped."
Larry kept his eyes on the road, his tone gentle and calm. "We're friends."
Brandy's voice wavered, and tears started to fall. "Everyone else turned their backs on me after my husband passed, but you've stayed. I know you're his true friend. If only he were still here…"
My eyes rolled involuntarily. This was getting ridiculous.
"Hey," Larry said softly. "It's okay, don't cry okay?" He continued. "I'm sorry about Darey, I know it's still fresh and nobody ever heals from this pain but I promise to try my best to be there for you."
Brandy nodded, wiping a tear off her cheek. "Thank you." She muttered softly.
"Everybody needs somebody." Larry said again. "And I'll be that somebody if you need one."
How convenient! I nearly scoffed but I held myself.
A while later, we reached Brandy's destination, a small alley. Brandy unbuckled her seatbelt and got out, then turned back to Larry with a hint of helplessness in her eyes.
"I need to pick up some things. Can you come with me? It'll only take a few minutes."
I interjected coldly, "I thought we were just giving you a ride."
Brandy sounded aggrieved, "These things are important… they were his belongings. I can't carry them alone."
Larry turned to me, "Wait in the car. I'll be quick."
"But..." I couldn't finish the sentence before Larry cut me off.
"I said I'll be quick." He firmly then turned to leave with Brandy.
That "quick" ended up being an hour, and I was on the verge of falling asleep, irritation creeping in. Just then, my phone lit up. It was a call from Larry.
His tone was more of a statement than a request: "There's been a slight delay. Brandy ran into some old classmates. They want to have dinner together. We'll stay here tonight and leave for the camping trip tomorrow."
My frown deepened, my tone laced with resistance. "Old classmates? Hers or yours? We were supposed to go camping, just the two of us. How many times are you going to break that promise?"
Larry responded, "Why are you in such a rush? We can still go camping tomorrow. It'll be fine."
I took a deep breath, "Listen, we need to talk about some things. It's been three years—"
Before I could finish, Larry cut me off. "It can wait until tomorrow. Let's discuss it then."
He added, "There's a restaurant behind us, Freshland restaurant. We're there."
And with that, he hung up.
"Great!" I yelled to myself. "How great and awesome!" I scoffed, fighting back tears.
I stared at the darkening phone screen, feeling a mix of disappointment and helplessness. Taking a deep breath, I tightened my grip on my purse and pushed the car door open. Without another word, I stepped out and headed toward the restaurant.
The cool evening air hit me like a slap in the face, snapping me back to reality. I had a choice to make: confront the situation head-on or let it simmer, potentially destroying what was left of our already fragile marriage.
As I walked toward the restaurant, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses grew louder. I could feel my heart racing, my mind whirling with thoughts of Larry, Brandy, and our failing marriage.
CHAPTER 133– OTHE TASTE OF DOUCEURMAYA’S POV“I have a special delivery from Grace. She insisted you have some…” Damian tilted his head, squinting at the delicate label. “Douceur?”I blinked, almost snatching the box out of his hands. “Wait, Grace sent that?”He nodded, amusement tugging at his lips. “Apparently, yes. She made sure the courier treated it like a state secret. I had to sign twice.”I laughed softly, eyes glued to the sleek pastel box resting in his hands. The word Douceur was etched in gold cursive across the top—simple, elegant, and ridiculously expensive-looking. My heart did a little somersault.“Oh my God,” I whispered, taking it carefully, like it might shatter if I breathed wrong. “It’s even prettier in person.”Damian raised an eyebrow. “You look like you’re about to marry it.”I ignored him, peeling back the seal. The scent hit me first—warm vanilla, caramelized sugar, and the faintest trace of white chocolate. It was intoxicating. Inside, three glossy pastries
CHAPTER 132 — THE DOUCEUR EFFECT MAYA’S POVI can’t fucking believe it.Aleksander—of all people—had gifted me one of his companies.One of his big companies.He had people transfer assets, arrange staff, and sign entire divisions under my name… behind my back.How does a CEO not know she’s about to own a whole damn company?Easy. When she’s too busy drowning in drama—Maya drama.The car turned sharply into a private driveway lined with tall glass walls and black steel gates. It was sleek—modern—almost intimidating in its precision. The kind of place where deals were made with quiet words and expensive coffee.The gate slid open automatically, revealing a courtyard paved with marble that gleamed under the late sun. A fountain stood in the center, water cascading in perfect arcs.The building was tall and intimidating—modern glass stretched high into the clouds, gleaming like it was dipped in arrogance. I looked at Damian, eyes narrowing. “When did this happen?”“While you were busy
CHAPTER 131 — WICKED APOLOGY MAYA’S POV… :Hey, beautiful. How did it go?The message popped up at the top of my screen, bold and bright, right next to the name that always made my stomach do that stupid little twist nowadays.Aleksander.I stared at it for a second. My thumb hovered above the screen, but I didn’t reply. Not yet. I could almost hear his voice through the words—smooth, amused, with that boyish arrogance that made everything sound like a dare.I typed back slowly.Me: You’re in no position to ask me that.Aleksander: Oh, you’re still mad?Mad?No. Mad was too soft, too polite.Me: I’m not mad. I’m furious.For a moment, the typing dots disappeared. Aleksander: Geez… I think I can make it up to you.I frowned. Here we go again.Me: How?I sent, against my better judgment.A notification blinked. Aleksander sent a photo.God. I knew I shouldn’t click it. My brain screamed don’t, but my thumb didn’t listen.The screen flashed to life—and just like that, my entire nervous
CHAPTER 130 – “THE DRIVE”MAYA’S POVThe station doors closed behind us with a metallic thud that sounded too final. Like an ending. Or maybe a warning. The air outside hit me—cold, sharp, almost refreshing after an hour in that suffocating room filled with fluorescent lights and suspicion.Damian walked beside me, his expression unreadable. He’d been calm during the entire ordeal, too calm for someone who’d just sat across from a detective that practically accused me of murder.“I’m so sorry about that,” he said finally, voice low, apologetic.I glanced up at him, one brow raised. “Sorry that they think I killed my own brother, or sorry because you probably had to pay off the Chief to shut Liam up?”He didn’t answer. Just gave me that controlled, executive smile that said let’s not talk about this here.And that’s when it hit me—maybe he did bribe the Chief. Maybe that’s why I was walking out instead of being handcuffed.Was he being considerate? Or was there another reason?Either w
CHAPTER 129 – “SUSPICION”MAYA’S POVBoth men paused for a fraction of a second. I couldn’t tell if it was surprise, recognition, or a mix of both.“Brandy Owens?” Liam repeated, eyes narrowing slightly. “The same Brandy Owens involved in the incident today?”“Yes,” I said quickly. “She was the only person I saw that night. We talked briefly.” My voice cracked slightly at the edges, but I pushed on. “She can confirm I was at my brother’s house.”Liam leaned back, arms folding over his chest, and for the first time since I walked in, he didn’t immediately look like he was plotting against me. Almost as if he was reconsidering his assumptions. Almost.The Chief cleared his throat, a soft, deliberate sound meant to cut tension but not stir it further. “That’s all for now. Thank you for your time.”But of course, Officer Liam DeVaughn couldn’t leave it at that.“What do you mean, that’s all?” His voice sliced through the silence, sharp and accusing. “She could’ve easily instructed someone
CHAPTER 128 – ROUTINE?MAYA’S POVOfficer DeVaughn.The chair beneath me felt harder than it should have. Cold. Stubborn. Like it knew exactly how uncomfortable I would be sitting here, waiting. Across from me, the Chief of Police watched with an unreadable expression — calm, polite, professional. Way too polite for someone who held the authority to throw me into the kind of trouble that made mornings like this feel like survival drills.“Ms. Perkins,” the chief greeted, voice smooth and official. “Please, have a seat.”I forced my body to move, my pulse pounding. I sat down, pretending not to notice the brown-eyed officer stealing glances at me.The chief opened a file and flipped through a few papers. “You were present during an altercation involving Larry and Brandy earlier today, correct?”“Yes.” My voice sounded steadier than I felt.He nodded. “We’ve reviewed the public footage and statements. However, there are inconsistencies we need to clarify. Officer DeVaughn here will be a
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