Marceline POV
“Excuse me. I touched that first,” a woman, probably in her late fifties, said as she grabbed the other end of the cotton. My fingers tightened around it. Was she serious? She touched it first? No way. I had clearly picked it up before her hand even came close. Why would she lie about something so obvious? My eyes darted to the shelf. This was the last one in this color. The rest were different shades I didn’t want. I had been driving from mall to mall, searching for this exact cotton, this exact shade. I needed it to knit a sweater for my little boy, Roman. And after all that searching, I finally found it only for this woman to show up with her drama. Still, I held back my anger. I had come too far to give up now. I cleared my throat and forced a polite smile. “I’m really sorry, but could you pick another one? I really, really need this...” She cut me off before I could even finish. “You think I don’t need it too?” My God. The attitude. I swallowed down my frustration, ignored her sharp tone, and tried once more. After staring at me for a moment, she finally sighed and let go of the cotton. “Thank you so much,” I said quickly, relief flooding me. As soon as she walked away, I let out the breath I had been holding. I couldn’t believe I had just played nice. But what choice did I have? She was older. If I had pushed back, people around would have sided with her automatically without caring who grabbed it first. I went straight to the counter, paid for the cotton, and hurried out of the mall. I was about to drive home when it struck me....my friend Anastasia lived nearby. And today was Wednesday. She always said she didn’t work on Wednesdays. It was the day she spent with her husband and son, so we rarely met then. I took out my phone from my bag and dialed her number. It went straight to voicemail. I sighed and shook my head in frustration. Well, it won’t hurt to drop by unannounced, would it? After thinking for a moment, I turned my car toward the road that led to her house. I reached the estate in no time and drove slowly, careful not to miss her villa. I had been here so many times, yet I still got confused...the villas all looked the same. That was why I always called her before coming over, so she would stand outside to wave at me. “I think I’ve passed it… or maybe not,” I muttered in frustration. How do people living here even recognize their own houses? I wondered. “Maybe I should just head home.” But as if luck finally smiled at me, I spotted a flower vase on a villa right in front of me. My heart eased. That was Anastasia’s villa. Finally. I parked outside, stepped out of my car but paused. A car was already there, parked inside her villa. My breath caught. I knew that car. Not just familiar. It was Philip’s. My husband’s car. My heart skipped a beat. Why is Philip here? He should be at the company. Did something happen? Worry swept through me. Anastasia worked as a director in his company, maybe something urgent had brought him here. Panic shot through me, and without knocking, I rushed inside the villa, too anxious to think straight. The living room was empty. No Philip. No Anastasia. Not even her husband. My frown deepened. Why was there no one here? I was about to call out Anastasia’s name when my eyes caught something on the table. A wristwatch. I stepped closer, and my stomach turned. It was Philip’s. If his watch was here, it meant he was truly here. But where was he? Where were they? Then I heard it a faint sound drifting from upstairs. My body froze. My ears strained. Moans. Groans. The sound of pleasure I knew too well. My stomach clenched tight. My heart hammered against my ribs. My legs, heavy as stone, carried me up the stairs one step at a time. I prayed it wasn’t what I was thinking. I prayed I was wrong. But the devil wasn’t kind. My prayer wasn’t answered. As I reached the door, the voices grew louder, clearer. My husband’s voice. My friend’s voice. Their sounds tangled together in raw pleasure as he pounded into her. Anastasia moaning, shameless, too loud. My legs trembled violently. My breath hitched, shallow and uneven. My vision blurred with tears. I clamped my hand over my mouth to stop the cry ripping its way out of me. My whole body shook. Nausea burned in my stomach. My chest squeezed painfully. I wanted to run, but my feet wouldn’t move. The betrayal crashed over me like a wave, drowning me alive. When their moans finally stopped, I thought I might collapse right there. My trembling hand reached for the door handle, but then their voices stabbed through the silence. “Philip, how long should we continue like this, playing hide and seek?” Anastasia’s voice was soft but laced with sadness. “Don’t you want us to be together, without hiding?” Silence. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” she pressed, sharper now. “You claim to love me, yet you do nothing for us.” “Don’t be angry,” Philip answered quietly. “It’s not that I don’t want it, but it’s not that simple.” “How is it not simple? You don’t love her. Why stay with her when the one you love is me?” “Be patient,” he said. "Patient?" Anastasia scoffed. "Isn’t that what you’ve been telling me? Empty promises?" "Ana…" Philip’s tone was weary, almost pleading. "Do you love her?" she snapped. "Tell me the truth, Philip. Do you?" "You know I don’t love her. I never loved her the way I love you," he admitted. His words shattered me completely. How could he erase everything we had, just like that because of her? "I hate this, Philip. I hate that I’m forced to share you with her," Anastasia’s voice trembled, raw with pain. "I hate that I sit in her living room, smiling like a fool, pretending it doesn’t hurt me to see you sitting beside her, acting like her husband." Hot tears burned down my cheeks. So all her smiles, her laughter around me… all of it was a lie? God, I had been so blind. "You won’t have to pretend for much longer," Philip said firmly. "I’m getting things in place. Just give me time." "I can’t wait my love," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Because Marcelina doesn’t even deserve you. She never did. She’s nothing but a chain around your neck, holding you back from the life you should have." My chest tightened painfully. How could she say that? She had a husband of her own.. how could she speak that way about another man’s wife, worse still, her friend? Just then, Anastasia said something that froze my blood. “I have already filed for divorce from my husband. Divorce her too, so we can be together.” My hand shook against the door handle. I pressed my eye to the crack, and what I saw told me the truth. She wasn’t just talking. Her eyes were hard, serious. I stumbled back, my body trembling violently. The words echoed in my ears, sharp as knives. My heart split open inside my chest, the pain unbearable.Marceline’s POVI walked straight to the closet as soon as I entered the bedroom. Without wasting time, I changed out of the clothes I was wearing into something far more fashionable. Today, I had plans...shopping for outfits and jewelry.There was this new brand in town that Celesta had been raving about. So I decided to check it out...typically the kind of thing a wealthy housewife would do.I paused before the standing mirror, admiring myself. Gorgeous, I whispered, smiling at my reflection. I grabbed my bag, slid in my payment cards, and picked up my car key.“Ready to go,” I murmured to myself as I headed downstairs.But the moment I reached the bottom step, my chest tightened with scorn. Philip was still standing exactly where I had left him earlier, frozen in thought. He hadn’t even moved.“Wait, Marceline,” he said as I was about to walk past him. His voice was calm now, nothing like the shouting earlier.I let out a tired sigh and stopped.“Why are you doing this?” he asked,
Marceline’s POV “Marceline! Marceline!” I heard Philip shouting my name from upstairs, but I ignored him. My focus stayed on the woman standing before me. “I have gone through the file, and I must say, I’m impressed,” I said calmly, placing the file beside me. “Thank you, ma,” she replied gratefully. "You will start work tomorrow…if that’s okay with you,” I told her, stressing the words deliberately. I didn’t want her to begin the job with an unprepared mind. She would be working as our housekeeper, and honestly, it was long overdue. I could not keep breaking my back washing and cleaning the entire house by myself, pretending everything was fine, just to please Philip who hated the idea of hiring help. “Yes ma, it’s very okay with me,” she answered quickly, her face filled with joy at being hired. “Good. See you tomorrow.” I dismissed her with a nod. She bowed slightly, gratitude written all over her face, before she walked out of the house. The moment the door click
Dominic POV The graveyard was cold and heavy with silence. The wind cut through the bare branches, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and old flowers. Rows of weathered stones stretched endlessly, but my eyes found only one. I stood before it, my chest rising and falling slowly as my dark eyes lingered on the portrait of a woman carved into the granite. Under her face, the elegant words were etched clearly: Helena Halvourne, 30 years old. My wife. The woman I had loved all my life. The woman who had died eight years ago while giving birth to our son, Matthew. She would have been thirty-eight years old today. I remained unmoving, but my heart was heavy. The sharp ache inside me was the same as the day she left. Slowly, I lifted a hand and rubbed at the corner of my eye where a single tear threatened to fall. Eight years. Yet it still felt like yesterday. The wound had never healed. She was not only my wife..she was my childhood friend, the only person who truly underst
Marceline POV I sat on a bench in the garden of our mansion, knitting a sweater for Roman while watching him play happily on the grass. I had returned home after dropping Celesta at her place, and Roman was already back from school. The sun was dipping low, painting the sky orange. “Daddy!” Roman’s voice rang out suddenly. I looked up and saw him running toward Philip, who lifted him into his arms and twirled him around with a smile. My heart clenched, and I quickly dropped my gaze back to my knitting needles. My fingers moved automatically, but my chest trembled. I couldn’t bear to watch them. It wasn’t that Roman didn’t deserve his father’s love...he did, he deserved every ounce of it. But Philip didn’t deserve Roman. He didn’t deserve the title of father, or husband, anymore. Still, I bit down on my bitterness. For Roman’s sake, I would endure. I would never take away the happiness he found in his father’s arms. Philip’s footsteps drew closer, and the bench shifted slightly a
Marceline POV I stepped out of my car and walked into the mansion, trying to steady my steps. My legs were still shaking from last night. From what that man had done to me. I could still feel him… his touch, his strength, the way he had taken me again and again in different positions until I almost forgot my own name. He told me I would feel good and I did. More than I had ever imagined. “Where are you coming from?” The first thing I heard as soon as I entered was Philip’s angry voice. I didn’t answer immediately. My eyes went to my son, Roman, standing beside him in his school uniform. “Mummy!” Roman called, running into my arms. “My baby.” I bent down, hugging him tightly. God, I had missed him. “You’re ready for school?” I asked with a smile. Roman nodded brightly. “You’ve eaten, right?” I pressed. “Yes,” he replied quickly. “Let me see your bag and lunch box,” I said, taking them to check. I needed to make sure he had enough food and snacks for the day. “Don’t worry,
Marceline POV Knock. Knock. The sound pulled me out of sleep. I frowned, raising my heavy head and blinking, trying to recognize where I was. Relief washed over me when I realized I was still in my car. But then the headache hit me again, pounding hard. Knock. The sound came again. I turned and saw a traffic warden knocking on my window. I sighed and lowered the glass. “Are you okay, ma?” he asked, his voice full of concern. “Yes… I’m fine,” I replied, rubbing my forehead. The pain throbbed stronger. “Are you sure, ma? You’ve been here for five hours.” “Five hours?” I blinked at him, stunned. My eyes darted around. The sky was already dark. He was right. I had been sitting here for hours. I hadn’t even realized it. I must have cried myself to sleep after leaving Anastasia’s villa. How had I even managed to pull my shaking body out of that house? I didn’t know. “If you’re really okay, ma, can you move your car?” his voice pulled me out of my thoughts again. “Yes