Revenge Wife: Hubby, I Know Your Secret

 Eleanor’s POV 

"I'll kill you!"

"How dare you fuck my sister hours after putting a ring on my finger!" 

"Because I love Janet, not you, Jane! I only did that to get your inheritance!"

"Mrs. Harper, Ma'am…" 

The telenovela dialogue blared through my earbuds, my favorite moment interrupted by a familiar, cautious voice.

I yanked out my earbuds and squinted at the limousine window. Gabriel, my driver, hovered politely at the door, his posture perfect, his expression careful.

"Yes, Gabriel. What is it?"  I said, annoyed that my drama-filled escape had been interrupted.

"We've arrived, ma'am"  he said softly.

"Oh," a soft sigh left my lips, realizing, just then, my phone rang. I glanced at my phone and saw Sophia’s name lighting up the screen. A small, sheepish smile tugged at my lips — I had tricked everyone into thinking I wouldn’t make it to the city for Rachel’s birthday, happening in just a few hours. Somehow, I knew this call was coming.

"Hello, sweetheart," I said as I swiped to answer.

"Mother, what happened?" Sophia’s voice rang sharp, worried. "Daddy said your flight got canceled, and now you won’t be here for Aunt Rachel’s birthday."

I sighed softly, smiling warmly despite the distance. "Oh, darling… it’s such a shame. I really wanted to be there. I’m so disappointed I can’t make it today."

There was a pause on the other end, and I imagined her usual teeny frown. "I know, Mother… but it’s okay. Maybe next time."

"Next time," I echoed, my voice softening. "Promise me you’ll enjoy it and make Aunt Rachel proud. I’ll be thinking of you the whole day."

Gabriel was already at the trunk when I ended the call, reaching for my suitcases.

"I’ll take these upstairs for you, Madam," he said, voice polite as ever.

But I raised a hand, stopping him with a small smile. "Not yet, Gabriel. I want to surprise them. I’m sure James and Sophia are still inside — let me go in first. I’ll call you once I’m ready."

He hesitated, glancing toward the front steps that led to the wide glass doors of our home — my palace of marble and silence. "Are you sure, Madam? These bags are quite heavy."

I gave a soft chuckle. "Oh, I’ll survive. I carried this company on my back, remember?"

He laughed politely, lowering the luggage handles. I leaned closer, lowering my voice into a mock whisper. "And Gabriel…"

"Yes, Madam?"

"Not a word about this little surprise." I pointed two fingers toward my eyes, then at him playfully. "If anyone finds out I came back early, I’ll know who to blame."

A ghost of a smile crossed his face, and he nodded. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Good."

With that, he returned to the car, as I turned toward the front doors. 

The door unlocked with its usual soft click, and I stepped inside, greeted by the faint scent of lavender polish and the hum of silence. Everything was just as I’d left it — perfect, polished, pretending to be peaceful.

The staff must have gone for their afternoon break, I thought. Good. That made my surprise even better.

I slipped off my heels, holding them in one hand as I walked deeper into the house. My footsteps softened against the marble floor, the hem of my dress brushing lightly behind me.

Then I heard it.

At first, it was faint — a laugh. A woman’s laugh. It came from upstairs, floating down the grand staircase.

My brows furrowed. That voice… sounds familiar.

I took a few steps closer, quiet as breath, and then another voice joined in. A man’s — deeper, rougher. James's.

My stomach tightened.

I stood at the foot of the stairs, the echo of their voices growing clearer with every heartbeat.

"…can you believe it? Twenty years, Rach." He chuckled softly. "We actually did it."

Rachel’s laugh followed, smooth and lazy. "Twenty years waiting for her to grow up, James. Twenty years pretending, lying, smiling through it all. And now—"

She stopped long enough for a quiet gasp that told me he’d touched her.

"—now our daughter will inherit it all."

My heart slammed against my ribs.

James hummed, pleased. "Sophia’s turning sixteen. She’s ready. And Royal Retails will finally come back to where it belongs. To us."

A sound left my throat — something between a gasp and a whimper — but I bit it back instantly, pressing a hand over my mouth.

My knees nearly buckled. I gripped the railing, the cool metal biting into my palm.

Rachel. My best friend.

No. No, no, no. That was impossible. That couldn’t be true.

The room swayed around me. Their laughter carried on upstairs — easy, unashamed, as though the walls weren’t soaked in betrayal.

I couldn’t breathe. My vision blurred, the corners of my eyes burning. For a moment, I thought I would scream. But the sound died before it reached my lips.

All those years of dinners, vacations, birthdays, school meetings — with her there. With Rachel holding my daughter, smiling at me, calling me her best friend.

My hand trembled as I covered my mouth again, holding myself together in the middle of the marble hallway.

A sob clawed at my throat, but I swallowed it down until it burned.

I took one shaky step back, then another, my heels silent against the floor. I shouldn't let them see me. I can't let them know.

My heart cracked in my chest, the sound of their muffled laughter chasing me down the stairs.

Everything I loved — my husband, my friend, my daughter — was a lie.

I don’t remember how I made it back down the stairs. My legs felt foreign, heavy — like I was walking through water.

The front door came into view, sunlight spilling through the glass panels. It should’ve been warm. It felt cold.

I slipped outside, every breath trembling in my chest. Gabriel looked up from his phone when he saw me, confusion flickering across his face.

"Madam?" he asked, straightening immediately. "Did you forget something?"

I shook my head quickly, clutching my bag tighter to my chest. My throat felt raw, my voice unsteady but calm enough to fool him.

"No. I—" I paused, swallowing hard. "Something came up. Drive me back to the airport, Gabriel."

He blinked, surprised. "Now, Madam?"

"Now," I said, firmer. "Please."

He hesitated for only a second before nodding. "Of course."

The car door closed behind me, muffling the world outside. As the engine started, I turned my face toward the window, pretending to watch the scenery blur by. But my reflection stared back instead — pale, silent, eyes red but dry.

I didn’t cry. I couldn’t. Not yet.

When the airport came into view, Gabriel slowed the car and turned to me. I forced a smile — small, practiced, the kind you wear when everything inside you is collapsing.

"Gabriel," I said softly. "Don’t tell anyone I was in the city today. Not James, not Rachel, not Sophia. No one."

He frowned slightly, confusion shadowing his eyes. "Of course, Madam. You have my word."

"Good." My fingers brushed the handle, pausing there for a moment. "Thank you."

He gave a polite nod, but his gaze lingered, studying my face as if he sensed something was terribly wrong. I didn’t give him the chance to ask.

I stepped out of the car and straightened my coat, letting the afternoon breeze bite against my skin. 

Twenty years of my life. Twenty years of love, trust, and loyalty. All of it stolen in a single afternoon.

And they thought I’d crumble.

They thought they’d won.

Let them wait. Let them all wait.

Because I was coming back.