CHAPTER 2: HIS MISTRESS

Instead of sharing the exciting news about his promotion to CEO and celebrating with me, he grabbed his car keys, rushed out of the living room, and went to party with his friends, family, and, not to forget, his mistress.

Once he left, I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling a sense of exclusion from his life. I wondered if he even saw me as part of it. I thought maybe he went to pick up wine for our celebration and hoped he intended to surprise me, but I was just daydreaming because he returned home the next morning, clearly drunk. He stumbled in and collapsed into bed, and while I didn't dwell on his actions, I couldn't help but shake my head at his pathetic state, reeking of alcohol.

A few hours later, he woke up and asked for food. After serving him, I went to do his laundry and discovered a woman's lipstick stain on his shirt, which ignited my fury. I rushed inside to confront him about it. Alan showed no remorse; instead, he tossed the shirt at me and told me to leave. I refused and demanded an explanation, asserting, "I’m your wife, and I deserve to know who this lipstick belongs to!" My jealousy bubbled over as I fought to keep my hurt hidden.

Alan looked at me, noticing the anger in my eyes. "Fine, you want an explanation? That lipstick belongs to someone special, someone who makes my dreams come true."

I felt like slapping him, but I held back to maintain the respect due to my husband. "What nonsense are you talking about?" I knew he had a mistress, but hearing him speak so fondly of her was infuriating.

"Yesterday, I landed my dream contract and got promoted to CEO, and it was all thanks to Samantha. After celebrating with my family and friends, we went out to celebrate further because she is so important to me." Hearing him say this made my jealousy boil over. I thought, if only he knew that I was the one behind his success.

"Oh, so your mistress's name is Samantha?" Just saying her name made me feel nauseous and unwanted, but I tried to convince myself that Alan loved me as much as I loved him.

"Come to think of it, Alan, you didn’t even tell me about your contract and promotion while I was here with you. Instead, you rushed out to celebrate with your so-called mistress. Who is she, and why is she so important?" I asked, my grief evident in my voice.

Alan chuckled and wiped his mouth. "I just told you about my promotion, and Samantha is my Godsend who makes my dreams come true. She's the daughter of the tycoon who owns the company I work for."

I was shocked. "What?" My stomach churned at the thought that she had the audacity to claim my identity as the daughter of a tycoon. I almost revealed my true identity to Alan, thinking, "Samantha is a liar; I’m the one who made your dreams come true!"

Alan was furious and waved his hands dismissively. "Shut up! What nonsense are you talking about? How dare you say you made my dreams come true?"

I wanted to lash out but held back, wanting to understand the man I had married. If I revealed my identity, he might pretend to love me just for my wealth. So I said, "What I meant was that I prayed for your success."

Alan laughed, and I added, "And just so you know, I’m better than Samantha." His laughter only grew louder.

"In your dreams! Don’t ever compare yourself to Samantha, you wretched fool. Look at you, and you think you’re better than a tycoon’s daughter?" He insulted me, and after spitting in my face, I got upset and tried to leave. He grabbed my arm, and when I struggled, he slapped me. "Don’t you dare walk out on me while I’m still talking." I covered my face as tears streamed down my cheeks. He shoved me away and walked off while I sat in a corner, crying.

That evening, my younger sister Jasmine came to visit. She immediately noticed the bruise on my face. "Oh my goodness, Audrey, did he hit you again?"

I sobbed and forced a smile, pressing my bruised cheek. "I’m fine."

She shook her head in disbelief. "You’re not fine. Talk to me—what happened?" Taking a deep breath, I shared everything, including Alan's claim that his mistress was the tycoon’s daughter. Jasmine burst into laughter, knowing our family background. I begged her not to tell our parents about Alan’s behavior.

"But sister, he’s cheating on you! Why don’t you leave him? He beats you and mistreats you. Will it take your death for you to see that he doesn’t love you?" Jasmine challenged me, but I continued to convince myself, "He loves me; he just doesn’t know how to show it."

She rolled her eyes. "You’ve sacrificed so much for Alan, and he doesn’t even appreciate it. How long will you endure this? Leave him so we can reclaim our lives. This isn’t who we are; we’re the Williams, daughters of a tycoon."

Before she could finish, I shushed her. "Keep your voice down, Jasmine. We can’t talk about our true identity here—someone might overhear."

My sister was visibly upset. "I can’t even look at you right now. Love shouldn’t hurt you like this."

I forced a smile and stroked her hair, leaning her head against me. "I understand. I’ll be fine, and so will you. Thank you for being here for me." She smiled back and hugged me.

The next day, I asked Alan for money, and he told me to get a job instead. I brushed him off, saying, "Whatever." He turned to me and said, "You know what? Maybe I should hire you so you’ll stop asking me for money for everything."

Hearing this made me happy, and I smiled, thinking Alan was finally starting to show me love. I eagerly awaited his next words, but what he said next was unbelievable...