One Year Later

One Year Later

Vivienne’s body pressed against the cold, unyielding marble of the desk, her hips aching as the edge bit into her skin. Every forceful jolt sent sharp, numbing ripples through her frame, but she barely felt them anymore. The rhythmic slap of skin echoed through the cavernous office, filling the space like an unwanted metronome.

“Why aren’t you pregnant yet?” Wes sighed, irritation thick in his voice.

Vivi didn’t answer.

She kept her gaze fixed on the city skyline through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, her eyes tracing the glittering high-rises and bustling streets below. The world carried on as if nothing were happening. As if she weren’t being used like this, twice a month, scheduled like an appointment.

“A whole year of this… what a waste of time.” His grunt was filled with frustration, his hands gripping her hips lazily, as if even the act itself was beneath him.

Vivi had stopped flinching at his words months ago.

Love, admiration—any feeling she’d once had for him had been burned out of her long before now.

“Impregnate an infertile wife…” Wes scoffed, barely trying anymore.

She had loved him once. As a girl, she had watched him from across the street, the older boy with golden hair and hazel eyes, always effortlessly handsome. He had been the center of her world, the object of her daydreams, the boy she had compared every school crush to. And when their families had arranged their marriage, it had felt like destiny.

But dreams had a cruel way of unraveling into nightmares.

Wes had gotten exactly what he wanted—his ticket to power, a means to secure his family’s business interests. But Vivienne? She had been handed a gilded cage. A contract disguised as a wedding ring.

And now, she was just a means to an end.

“Ah, man, I can’t wait to get Celeste’s lips around my cock later,” he groaned, snapping his hips a little faster.

Vivi’s fingers curled into fists.

Six months ago, Vivienne had stepped into this very office and immediately noticed something was off. The secretary, once polished and efficient, had transformed. Her dark hair was suddenly platinum blonde, her laugh had taken on a rehearsed, syrupy sweetness, and her skirts had crept higher than what any HR policy would deem appropriate.

The secretary was gone now.

But Celeste had stayed by Wes’s side, gliding effortlessly from desk to penthouse, from assistant to mistress.

Wes called her ‘terribly understanding of their situation’, as if that made any of this more palatable. Celeste knew exactly what she was waiting for—a baby that would be Vivi’s ticket out and her own way in.

“Ah, fuck, Celeste,” Wes groaned, his movements turning erratic.

Vivi barely registered the bruising pressure against her hips, the way the marble dug into her bones.

And then it was over.

Wes let out a loud, self-satisfied sigh, his body shuddering in an exaggerated display of completion before he pulled away.

Vivi stayed still, expression blank, waiting for the warmth inside her to stop feeling foreign. It never did.

“There,” he said, buttoning his pants. “All done.”

Her movements were mechanical as she reached for her purse, retrieving the spare panties she always kept, already lined with a sanitary pad. She pulled them on quickly, fixing herself with practiced efficiency.

Wes dropped into his sleek leather chair, tipping it back as he thumbed through his phone, already disconnected from what had just happened. Magazines were strewn across his desk, glossy covers featuring a face Vivi had tried to forget but never could.

“We’ll get divorced soon,” he announced, as if it were new information. “I finally have an audition for a big movie. Side role, but still more money than my dad will ever pay me to run his rinky-dink business.”

Vivi gave a hollow nod, adjusting the hem of her skirt.

She moved toward the door, her voice quiet, detached. “That’s great… good luck.”

Wes didn’t look up, already lost in whatever conversation he was having on his phone.

Vivi didn’t need to hear it. She already knew all about the audition. She had heard him talk about it endlessly to Celeste, his excitement and nerves playing out in real-time.

But mostly he had obsessed over the man who would determine his fate.

The man who had once again secured the leading role her husband so desperately coveted.

Vivi’s eyes flickered to the magazines on the desk one last time, her breath hitching at the familiar, unreadable gaze staring back at her.

The man who had shielded her from the rain.

The man who had held her as she broke apart on a restroom floor.

And now, the man who held Wes’s future in his hands.

Vivi pushed open the office door without another word.

She didn’t look back.