Revenge for the "Wrong Number"

Wrong number? As if. That spot was expensive. It was the most premium package my sister, Jessie Gibson, saved me right after she knew I was pregnant. She even called me to talk about it. I could just move in for free.

I confirmed and reconfirmed when the care center called me. And now that spot was stolen. This was not something I would stand for.

My husband, William, objected to me going to the care center. "Hey, the other ladies can stay at home, so why can't you? Why do you have to go to that care center?"

Because I could. Why shouldn't I? I ignored him and got an Uber to the care center.

…

The driver got me there in twenty minutes. There were potential clients asking about the packages they offered.

It took a while, but the reception was finally quiet, so I went and asked for answers. "Hi, I'm Selene Tousson, William Melson's wife, the one you called earlier. You wanted my opinion on your service."

The receptionist gave me a weird look. "Mrs. Melson? But you've gone back to your room."

My face fell. The receptionist continued, "And she even thanked us for our perfect service."

That woman used my name. I clenched my teeth. "But I'm the actual client. I'm Selene Tousson."

The receptionist sized me up, and her eyes filled with disdain. "Are you trying to cause a scene? Must be another one of those who can't afford our prices. Mrs. Melson came with her husband. We know Mr. Melson well enough. He's the one we've been talking to all this time. Stop pestering us."

Wow, that was shocking. I just found out my husband now belonged to someone else.

Just when I was going to press for answers, someone came out of the elevator. Someone I knew. A 900-thousand-dollar bracelet hung around her wrist. The bracelet my brother gave me. And a pendant hung from her neck. A million-dollar pendant that my sister gave me.

Though she was in a patient's gown, her hair was delicately kept up. This was an intern working in my husband's company, Melanie Crossfire.

The receptionist pointed at her. "That's Mrs. Melson. Now I suggest you leave."

I did not move. Instead, I looked at Melanie darkly. She met my eyes, and horror crept up onto her face. In a hurry, she moved toward me. "W-What are the odds, Selene? You're moving in too?"

She pushed me into a corner. "We'll take this elsewhere. Don't want to get in the way of their work."

What a joke. She usually called me Selly, but now she called me something else just to ward off suspicion. And to think she was always so friendly around me.