LOVE,LIES AND POWER

The d-day had finally arrived. It was Sandra's birthday party.A lot of distinguished guests, most of them politicians, her friends and the people they brought along.The party was in full swing. Sandra wore a green sequin gown that hugged her body and accentuated her figure. She could feel the lecherous gazes of the men in the room, including her husband's friends. Everyone's eyes were on her.Sandra usually wore modest clothes that covered her shape, but today, she wanted to let loose, even if it was a little.She also wore this outfit to piss off Steph. He had never been a fan of the clothes and had told her to dispose of them because a mayor's wife should not be seen wearing such an exposing outfit.At that time, she had wanted to do as he said. She was happy she had changed her mind.She and Steph were still not talking after their argument the other day. “Sandra! My! You look so good today!” her friends, Katy, Vera , and Lily, surrounded her, showering her with compliments.“T

Fergus sat down at a dimly lit nightclub, slowly sipping his cocktail. His mind wandered back to the events of the afternoon.Fergus had been on his way with two bodyguards to have lunch with his friend at a restaurant when he bumped into someone. The person was significantly smaller than him, so he merely staggered back while the person tumbled to the floor. He looked at her and saw it was a woman. Scared that he had hurt her because of his big size, he quickly crouched beside her, worried.“Are you okay, miss?” he asked, trying to help her up.Then she looked up, and her looks blew him away.She had long, blonde hair that formed a cascade around her face. Her eyes were thin, siren-like, the type that looked like they were permanently mocking you but were beautiful as well. Her soft lips were slightly parted as they sat at the base of her oval face. She was drop-dead gorgeous. She seemed to be in her late twenties and extremely attractive.“Miss, are you alright?” He asked her aga

Thin rays of light entered through the hotel curtains and lit up the bedsheets. Sandra slowly opened her eyes and felt the warmth beside her. The body next to her was a solid reminder that the night before was very much real. The faint scent of Fergus clung on her skin and, for a slight moment, she allowed herself to feel the sensation of peace that had stayed hidden from her for way too long. Turning to her side, she looked at the man still sleeping next to her. He looked relaxed and the intensity usually present in his sharp hazel eyes was massively softened. Fergus's arm was wrapped over Sandra’s waist which made her feel a tinge of fear and excitement all at once. She found herself thinking, is this the beginning of something beautiful? The conflicting emotions left her baffled, but was it okay to trust someone again? This part of the world was understandable to her. The warm embrace of a man so unlike her ex husband. Fergus was everything she had ever needed. He was everything k

The next few days felt like a whirlwind for Sandra. Her mind was constantly running a thousand miles a minute, caught between the fresh beginnings she’d started with Fergus and the looming shadow of her past that refused to let her go. The phone calls, the headlines, the constant reminders of the man she had once called her husband—they were relentless, like waves crashing against a fragile shoreline. Fergus, ever the steady presence, did his best to shield her from it all. He kept her out of the public eye, planning quiet, private outings that helped to restore a sense of normalcy. Yet, no matter how much he tried, the pressure was mounting. Steph’s grieve against her wasn’t just public, it was personal, and it was getting uglier by the day. Sandra had hoped, foolishly, that time away from the city would allow her to heal. But as the days wore on, the clumsy media around her didn’t dissipate. It only seemed to grow louder. Articles were printed accusing her of abandoning her marriag

Sandra adjusted the silk blouse she had borrowed from Fergus’s closet, a deep emerald color that brought out the fire in her eyes. It clung to her like confidence, layered over the scars of a woman reborn. Her hair was tied into a sleek knot, her lips a shade bolder than usual. It wasn’t vanity. It was armor. “Are you ready?” Fergus asked, standing in the doorway. He looked freshly pressed, but his eyes betrayed concern. “You don’t have to do this today.” “Yes, I do,” she said firmly, gripping the edge of the vanity. “If I don’t, Steph wins. Again.” They had spent the night drafting her statement, something that wasn’t just a defense but a declaration. Sandra didn’t want to be seen as the pitiful wife anymore. She wasn’t a victim. She was a survivor with a voice, and today, she would use it. As they drove back into the city, the outside world felt sharper, louder. Fergus reached for her hand as he consoled and gave it a gentle squeeze. She appreciated it more than she could say. Hi