MasukRAINA
A week had passed since I met Sylvester at the bar.
I thought about his card every single day. It sat in my purse like a bomb waiting to explode. But every time I reached for my phone, I stopped myself.
Too dangerous. Too risky.
If Castor found out, he would destroy my family. Better to endure this nightmare for five years than risk everything.
At least, that's what I told myself.
Until Wednesday afternoon.
I came home from a charity luncheon to find Teddy's suitcases in the hallway. Four large bags, expensive designer brands that I knew my husband had bought for him.
My stomach dropped.
"What's going on?" I asked Maria, who was dusting the staircase.
She wouldn't meet my eyes. "Mr. Rowland is moving Teddy into the master bedroom, ma'am."
My blood ran cold. "What?"
"He asked me to help you move your things to the guest room downstairs."
No. Absolutely not.
I stormed up the stairs and found Castor in our bedroom, hanging Teddy's clothes in my closet. My closet.
"What do you think you're doing?" I demanded.
He turned to me with that cold smile. "Making better use of space. Teddy needs to be closer for his duties."
"His duties?" My voice was rising. "This is our matrimonial bedroom, Castor. Our marriage bed."
"A marriage you wanted to end, remember?" He folded one of Teddy's shirts with careful precision. "But since you agreed to stay for five years, I'm making arrangements that work better for me."
"You refused to give me a divorce," I said, my hands shaking. "You forced me to stay married to you. The least you can do is respect our marriage bed for the next five years."
"Respect?" He laughed. "You want me to respect a bed I've never even used with you?"
The words stung, but I pushed forward. "I'm not leaving this room. You want to bring your boy toy into this house? Fine. But you're not defiling our bed with him. Take your immoral behavior somewhere else."
His face changed in an instant.
The smile disappeared. His eyes went dark and dangerous.
"What did you just say to me?"
"You heard me. I'm not giving up my room so you can..."
The slap came so fast I didn't see it coming.
My head snapped to the side. Pain exploded across my cheek and mouth. I tasted blood immediately.
I stumbled backward, my hand flying to my face. When I pulled it away, my fingers were red. The ring on his hand had cut my lip.
"How dare you," he said, his voice deadly quiet. "How dare you insult me in my own house."
Tears streamed down my face. Not just from pain, but from shock. He had actually hit me.
"Everything in this house belongs to me," he continued, stepping closer. "The furniture. The cars. The clothes on your back. You own nothing, Raina. Nothing."
I tried to back away, but he grabbed my arm.
"You were a poor kindergarten teacher drowning in debt when I found you. You should be grateful I even noticed you. Do you know how many women would kill for the life I've given you?"
"Let go of me," I whispered.
"I saved your pathetic family from ruin. Your mother gets to keep her restaurant. Your brother gets to stay in school. All because of my generosity." His grip tightened. "And this is how you repay me? By calling me immoral?"
He shoved me away. I hit the dresser hard, knocking over perfume bottles.
"Guards!" he yelled.
Two security men appeared in the doorway. I recognized them. Robert and James. They had always been polite to me before.
Now they looked uncomfortable but obedient.
"My wife is moving to the guest room in the south wing," Castor said calmly, like he hadn't just struck me. "Help her gather her things."
"No," I said, trying to sound strong even though I was terrified. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Take her," Castor ordered.
The guards moved toward me. I backed against the wall.
"Don't touch me! This is my room!"
But they grabbed my arms anyway. One on each side.
"Let me go!" I screamed, struggling against them. "You can't do this!"
They started dragging me toward the door. I dug my heels into the carpet, but it didn't matter. They were too strong.
"Castor, please!" I begged. "Please, don't do this!"
He had already turned away, going back to organizing Teddy's clothes.
Like I didn't exist.
Like I was nothing.
They hauled me down the stairs, my feet barely touching the ground. Maria stood in the hallway, tears in her eyes, but she didn't move to help me.
Nobody helped me.
They dragged me all the way to a small bedroom at the far end of the south wing. A room I had never even been in before. It was cold and bare, with just a bed and a dresser.
They threw me inside and I heard the lock click.
I pounded on it with my fists. "Let me out! You can't keep me in here!"
No response.
I kept screaming until my throat was raw. Kept banging until my hands hurt.
Nothing.
Finally, I collapsed on the floor, sobbing. My face throbbed where he had hit me. My lip was still bleeding.
This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real.
But it was.
Hours passed. The sun set. The room grew dark.
Then I heard voices. Music. Laughter.
I got up and pressed my ear to the door. More voices. Men's voices. And something else. Younger voices. Scared voices.
My heart started racing.
What was going on?
I got down on my knees and looked through the keyhole. The angle was bad, but I could see part of the main hallway.
Men in expensive suits were arriving. Castor greeted them, shaking hands, laughing. Acting like the perfect host.
Then I saw them.
Boys. Young boys. Teenagers, maybe eighteen or nineteen, but some looked even younger. They wore tight clothes, prepped up with makeup and some sharp perfume. They looked scared.
Terrified.
One of the men grabbed a blonde boy and kissed him hard. The boy didn't resist, but his eyes were empty. Dead.
Another man led a dark haired boy up the stairs by the hand. The boy was crying quietly.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my stomach turning.
This wasn't just an affair. This wasn't just Castor being unfaithful.
This was something monstrous.
The music got louder. I could hear moaning. Pleading. Sometimes crying.
I pressed my hands over my ears, but I could still hear it.
Young voices begging. Men laughing.
I crawled to the corner of the room and pulled my knees to my chest.
This was the man I had married.
This was the nightmare I had walked into.
And I was trapped in the same house with all of it.
The sounds went on for hours. All through the night. Voices calling out. Footsteps in the hallway. Doors opening and closing.
I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw those boys' faces.
So young. So scared.
Just like me.
PATRICKHe opened the door before I knocked twice."Patrick." Relief moved over his face, then caution when he saw mine hadn't softened. "You came."I walked past him into the house. "Sit down."He looked at me for a second, then crossed to the couch and sat. I stayed on my feet. I'd spent three days deciding exactly how this was going to go, and I wasn't going to do it from a chair with a drink in my hand like we were two old friends catching up. Not yet."I'm going to say this once," I said. "So listen to me the way you should have listened three months ago. The way you should have listened from the very start."He didn't argue. That told me something. The Sylvester I knew would have argued."You are not going to lose this election, and you are not going to lose this case. " I said, emphasing every word.He remained silent."Two years, Sly. Two years of my life, of Geoffrey's money, every method, every contact, every hour we've poured into taking Castor Rowland apart. It's finally
PATRICKI drove home that night and poured myself a drink I couldn't taste.I blamed the bad taste on the firmentation process, so I switched up, and poured another glass of rum.Different drink, same taste.I pushed it aside. Perhaps, the drinks were not the problem. Something else was responsible for the numb in my throat.I sat in the dark of my kitchen with the glass sweating on the counter and ran it back, over and over, the whole ugly picture of it. Sylvester's shirt off his shoulders. Her skirt shoved up. The two of them tangled together on the desk where we'd forged and drawn plans for the future of a whole city. The files were scattered on the floor like they were nothing. Castor Rowland's wife. Of all the women in this city, his wife!"What the fuck are you thinking, man?" I ran a hand through my hair.I wasn't just angry. I was frustrated, blindsided, angry at myself.Because I'd seen it. Months ago. I'd sat across from him in that office and told him exactly this would
RAINAI was still on the couch when Syvelster came back.I'd pulled myself together as best I could. Skirt down, blouse buttoned, heels strapped.But my hands had been shaking too hard to fix my hair, and I could feel it hanging loose and wrong around my face. The shock of seeing Patrick had melted a while ago. Now, the tears just came, quiet, heavy, sliding down without my say-so, and I let them because I didn't have the strength left to stop them.Sylvester walked in slow. His shirt was buttoned in a crooked way. He'd chased Patrick down in a hurry and came back with a sore look on his face, the one I'd never seen on him before tonight. He always knew what to do in the tense situations. Always knew the next move. Right now he just looked like a man who'd been caught, same as me.He sat down beside me on the couch and didn't say anything at first. He just reached over and took my hand."He saw us," I said, my voice shaking. "Patrick saw us, Sylvester. He saw everything.""I know."
PATRICKI was halfway home when I remembered my laptop.It sat on the corner of my desk where I'd left it, and every file for tomorrow's donor briefing sat on it. I needed all of it by seven in the morning and couldn't wait till tomorrow to get it."Fuck!' I hit the steering wheel, saying a word my mother wouldn't have liked and turned the car around at the next traffic light.It took ten minutes back to drive back to the tower. As I approached, I wondered if Sylvester was still up there, probably still chewing through that brief he never finished.Nah, no need to check on him. I'd just grab my bag and go. Or maybe... I could be a good friend and push him to go home and sleep. Lord knows he needed it. He'd been running himself into the ground for weeks, sharp one minute and somewhere else entirely the next, and I'd put it down to the campaign. The polls, the pressure. That was what I'd summed it up as.I keyed into the garage of the building, rode up the elevator, and stepped out o
SYLVESTERIt was 7:45 p.m. on a Monday evening.It was the start of a new week, yet my head was still in yesterday's fundraiser.I tried to work through the day, to do usual office work, but somehow, my eyes kept darting to the clock on the wall.It was a silent count down.Patrick had left an hour ago. He'd checked on me before leaving, and and I'd pretended to be rounding up my work to leave as well.I hadn't done a single thing today.The brief sat open in front of me. I hadn't read a line of it. My eyes kept going to the door instead, to the dark hallway past it. Listening, waiting.She'd said eight. It was ten to.I got up. Walked to the window. Came back. Straightened a stack of files that didn't need straightening and caught myself doing it, and that was the part that got me. Ten years as an attorney, of standing still in front of judges who wanted me to break and I never for once let them see me lose control.Now I couldn't sit through ten minutes of waiting for a woman.It h
RAINAWe rode home from the fundraiser in silence.Castor spent the whole drive on his phone, thumbing through messages, muttering once or twice about Sylvester having the nerve to show his face. I kept my eyes on the dark road sliding past the window and said nothing. My knuckles still carried the ghost of his lips. My waist still remembered his hand.When we got home, Castor went straight up to his wing without a word to me. I heard his study door close. I stood alone in the entrance hall for a moment, listening to the house settle, then kicked off my heels and carried them down toward the south wing.I couldn't sleep. My mind was too loud, too full of the dance and the office he wanted me to come to tomorrow. After an hour of lying in bed, I gave up and went to the kitchen for a glass of water.The kitchen light was off.But someone was in there.I stopped in the doorway. Maria sat at the kitchen Island in the dark, her back curved, her head bent low over something in her hands. T
RAINAMy fingers wouldn't stop shaking.I stared at Castor's texts on my screen and felt the blood drain completely from my face. The words blurred in front of my eyes. My brain refused to process them fast enough.Tell me the truth. Where the fuck are you? Don't make me come after you!!!The offic
RAINAI barely slept that night.Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined what would happen tomorrow. What Sylvester would say. What he would tell me to do.Could I even do it?That last thought scared me more than anything.By morning, I was exhausted and jittery with nerves.Castor left for his o
RAINAWhen morning finally came, the house was quiet.I woke up in severe pain.My face was swollen. When I touched my cheek, it felt hot and puffy. My lip was crusted with dried blood. My wrists ached from where the guards had grabbed me.But the worst pain was inside my chest. A hollow, burning f
RAINA.The car ride home was when I finally broke completely.The moment the door shut and we pulled away from the venue, the tears began to fall. Not gentle tears, but huge, gasping sobs that shook my whole body."Mrs. Rowland?" the driver said softly. "Are you alright?"I looked up and met his ey







