Chapter 5 I Love My Husband Deeply

Nancy had seen her share of charmers, those men who gleamed with golden allure yet were so often shallow beneath the surface. In her circle, they were a dime a dozen. These men pursued novelty and thrills, acting not on feelings or connections, but following the lead of their carnal desires. For them, her name was unnecessary. All that mattered was the passionate intimacies in the bedroom.

The events of the previous night with Yaacob had shown that he was indeed interested in her, in a very particular way. The thought of his boldness made Nancy's ears burn uncontrollably, and she shifted her gaze uncomfortably to the window.

She asserted. "I'm married! Last night was just a mistake, and it won't happen again. I'm not what you think I am. I love my husband!"

Her words were met with a soft snort from the man beside her, a sound tinged with mockery as if questioning how a woman who loved her husband could end up in another man's bed.

Nancy could not quite explain it herself. Last night, she received a text message from Spencer and went to the room he mentioned. The lights had been off, and she had stumbled right into a man's arms, who kissed her forcefully. If she had been more attentive, she might have noticed the scent was different from Spencer's.

She recalled having a sip of red wine for a taste test at the hotel. Could that wine have been tampered with? Was it yet another scheme by that treacherous Teresa? But she had no intention of explaining any of this to the man beside her.

She just hoped he would keep last night's event a secret and that they would never meet again.

"You can drop me off here," Nancy said eagerly, and Yaacob complied, stopping the car.

Before she got out, he suddenly asked, "Your husband has never touched you, has he?"

Nancy's fingers, which had been reaching for the door handle, froze. Her face tightened. His words had hit a nerve, and she snapped, "Mr. Getson, is that right? I've made myself clear about last night. I don't need to explain my marriage to you. Don't you have a fiancee? Respect her and mind your own business. Forget about yesterday, and let's never see each other again!"

With that, Nancy opened the door and marched off without looking back.

Behind her, Yaacob's eyes followed her through the windshield, his expression regretful as he softly sighed, "Married, eh?"

If Nancy had looked back, she might have been startled by his eyes, for they were not those of a common man driven by simple lust. They were calm but concealed a depth and coldness, like a predator eyeing its prey, as if he could devour her whole in a single heartbeat.

His phone rang, pulling him from his thoughts.

A woman's voice was heard, "Brother, I noticed you used your credit card domestically. Did you come back?"

"Yes."

That one word cast a strange silence over the other end of the line. Finally, the voice asked, apprehensive and perhaps hiding some fear, "Are you back for revenge?"