(1) Husband, Is That You?

"There were three of us in this marriage, so it was a bit crowded."

A quote that never left Charity Redwood's mind. It was just something random that had flashed across her social media feed, yet it had clung to her like tar ever since.

Was it instinct?

Was it the reason that dreadful feeling of doubt was growing stronger at this very moment?

"Cheers!"

Charity smiled, clinking her pristine wineglass with the people she held dear.

It was an amazing night. An extravagant cruise hosted the world's most influential figures, while the orchestra's symphony at the center stage filled the grand hall with elegance. Every piece of furniture was adorned with intricate golden trims against the luxurious crimson interior.

Even the massive diamond-shaped chandelier sparkled brilliantly, becoming the centerpiece of the star-studded dining hall.

"Congratulations on your win tonight, Violet!" Charity cheered, swallowing the uncomfortable doubt lodged in her throat along with her wine.

"Oh, silly. It was only Best Supporting Actress."

Violet rolled her eyes sarcastically as she tucked a strand of her wavy amber hair behind her ear. Grinning, she turned toward the man seated with them.

"I've never been good enough, have I? Charity has been winning Best Actress year after year." She laughed softly before looking at Samuel. "Your wife never fails to amaze me, Sammy."

Beneath the table, however, her elegant foot slid forward.

Samuel Collins stiffened as the tip of her heel slowly traced along his leg. His gentle gaze met Violet's mischievous smile before a slight frown appeared on his face. Quietly, he shifted his chair away from her reach.

"Are you alright?" Charity asked after noticing the subtle change in his expression.

"Yes." He reassured her with a warm smile before playfully pinching her chin. "My wife is simply too beautiful to resist. She doesn't even need talent to win every award."

"Oh, stop it." Charity lightly slapped his hand away, unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips. "Both Violet and I work hard for those awards, you know."

Violet, on the other hand, dug her nails into her palm.

She was seething with envy.

How dare Charity say something like that?

Violet worked harder than anyone, yet she was always second.

Why?

Why was Charity always the one basking in glory while she remained in the shadows?

They were both beautiful.

Both exceptionally talented.

Both among the biggest names in the entertainment industry.

Then why was Charity always treated like an empress?

Why did she always stand at the top while Violet remained beneath her?

"Why do people call me 'The Queen That Never Was'?" Violet suddenly blurted out.

She was met with Charity's sympathetic gaze, and it made her stomach churn with disgust.

"Whoever came up with that nickname is cruel. It's never been a competition between us. We're both dominating the industry, and that's all that matters."

With genuine concern, Charity reached out and held her friend's hands, trying to comfort her.

"Yes... we are."

Violet forced a smile before gently pulling her hands away.

"It's wonderful that the three of us are still together after all these years." She raised her glass. "Ten years of friendship. Let's drink to that."

"Cheers!"

Another round of wine eased the tension at the table.

At least, Charity hoped it did.

"You know what?" Violet laughed. "I'm actually jealous. When will I stop sleeping with wealthy men and finally find a husband like yours? I want to be the legal wife for once. I can't keep living like this forever."

"You'll find someone." Charity replied with a smile, exchanging a glance with Samuel.

He truly was the perfect husband.

Ask anyone around them, and they'd say Samuel was the kind of man every woman dreamed of marrying. The tabloids constantly praised him for showering Charity and their son, Baron, with expensive gifts.

It had become common knowledge that Samuel Collins was the ideal husband.

Yet what unsettled Charity was the way Violet kept looking at him.

The lingering glances.

The playful lip biting.

The absent-minded twirling of her hair.

And lately, the way she casually called him "Sammy."

At first, Charity hadn't thought much of it.

She could never doubt someone she had trusted for ten years.

But over the past few weeks, an unfamiliar sense of unease had slowly begun consuming her.

Samuel and Violet had become closer.

Far closer than before.

"Ugh..."

Charity massaged her temples.

Her thoughts were becoming clouded with every passing second, making it impossible to think clearly.

"Girls, I'll have to leave you for a moment. I just spotted the Vice President."

Samuel stood to excuse himself, but Charity instinctively grabbed his hand.

"I... I'm not feeling well."

She looked at him pleadingly as dizziness washed over her.

"Oh, go ahead, Sammy." Violet stepped in, supporting Charity by the shoulders. "I'll take care of her, right, Charity?"

She winked at Samuel.

"Don't worry about us."

"Make sure she gets to the room safely."

He hesitated before leaning down to kiss Charity's forehead.

"I'll be there soon. Just wait for me in the room, alright?"

"Okay..."

Reluctantly, Charity leaned against Violet for support.

The grand hallway on the upper deck was almost deserted.

Most of the suites on that level belonged to distinguished guests whose fame or wealth granted them exclusive access.

With no one around to question them, Violet easily guided Charity into one of the rooms.

Charity could barely make out the room number.

All she wanted was to lie down.

Her body felt unbearably heavy.

Fortunately, Violet carefully helped her onto the soft bed inside the dimly lit room.

"I'll go find Sammy. Just stay here and rest, alright?"

She smiled gently.

"Thank you, love." Charity smiled weakly. "You're truly my best friend."

Violet paused at the doorway.

She glanced back at Charity's fragile figure resting on the velvet bed.

A small nod was her only response before she stepped outside, quietly closing the door behind her.

Suddenly—

Someone grabbed her arm and shoved her against the wall.

Violet gasped before quickly regaining her composure.

"You cheeky bastard."

She grinned at Samuel, who returned the smile.

"Do you have any idea how heavy she is? Does she ever go on a diet?"

"It doesn't matter." Samuel leaned in, burying his face against her neck as he inhaled her perfume. "Thanks for taking care of it, baby. I'll make it up to you later."

His voice dropped into a whisper.

"I want to spend the night with you already. I can't wait."

"Always so impatient, aren't you?" Violet teased.

She cupped his face affectionately and led him away from the room.

"Don't worry. A fat city mayor is scheduled to enter that room. I left the door unlocked, and the paparazzi are already waiting next door. There's a hidden peephole connecting the rooms, so they'll capture everything that happens to your wife."

"Ex-wife," Samuel corrected with a smug smile.

As the two disappeared down the hallway, basking in what they believed was their perfect plan, Charity waited patiently inside.

Her vision blurred.

She struggled to stay awake as the drug coursing through her body slowly pulled her toward unconsciousness.

Click.

The door opened.

Through her hazy vision, Charity saw a hand gripping the doorknob.

She heard unfamiliar voices outside.

"Paige, just pay them upfront."

The voice was deep, rough, and carried the confidence of someone accustomed to getting his way.

"I don't take no for an answer."

"We're claiming random rooms now?" another man asked sarcastically.

"It's unlocked. Whoever left it like this is an idiot."

The commanding voice sounded mildly irritated.

"Fine. I'll call the owner and see if we can arrange something."

She heard footsteps retreating.

Only the man holding the doorknob remained.

Squinting through her blurred vision, Charity slowly pushed herself upright, trying to make out the figure entering the room.

"Samuel...?"

Her voice came out hoarse.

The man froze.

His hand paused halfway through loosening his tie.

Charity couldn't recognize him.

All she could see was the silhouette of a tall, well-built man standing beneath the dim light.

The stranger, however, recognized her immediately.

Her voice.

Her face.

The beautiful woman lying helplessly before him.

"Honey..."

Charity called weakly once more before all her strength gave out.

She collapsed back onto the bed, strands of her golden hair falling across her eyes.

She felt unbearably weak.

The crisp tap of polished leather shoes echoed across the carpet as the man slowly approached.

His dark, unreadable eyes settled upon the defenseless woman lying before him.

Helpless...

Yet undeniably alluring.