MasukMy husband is a whore and a powerful politician running for Governor he has a flawless public image. But behind closed doors, I’m the wife who cleans up scandals, swallows betrayal, and signs my name under his ambition. I gave up my Law career to protect his, learned to ignore the women, to stay quiet thinking I could save my marriage until I couldn’t. Then his intern moved into his orbit. Young. Dangerously hot and Off-limits . What starts as an affair turns into a secret that could destroy a marriage, a campaign, and more than one life. This isn’t a love story. And it isn’t what people expect from a political marriage gone wrong. It’s about what happens when a woman who has spent years cleaning other people’s messes finally makes one of her own. Everybody thinks they know how this story goes they don’t
Lihat lebih banyakEvelyn’s POV
The campaign office went silent when I threw the coffee in Julia’s face. Very hot black coffee still steaming. She gasped, her hands flying up too late while brown liquid dripped down her cheeks, stained her white blouse, pooled on the desk where Alfred’s phone sat unlocked. “What the hell…” someone said outside the room The office door burst open. Three staffers crowded in the doorway, eyes wide, mouths open. Sarah from communications. Two volunteers whose names I’d never learned. They stared at Julia dripping coffee, at me standing there with the empty cup still in my hand, at Alfred’s phone on the desk. “Mrs. Cole…” Lawson badged in after he had been chasing me since he saw me walked into the office. His face pale. “What’s going on?” More people appeared behind Lawson. Someone pulled out their phone. I heard a camera click. “Put that away,” Lawson snapped at whoever it was. “Everyone back to your desks… and you , you’re fired “ He said pointing at the girl who took the picture. “Mrs. Cole, you don’t have to do this here” “Shut up.” I kept my eyes on Julia. Twenty-two years old, blonde who I had just found out not less than twelve hours ago was sleeping with my husband. I’d found out last night. Alfred came home late, exhausted, fell asleep on the couch still in his suit. His phone buzzed on the coffee table. A text notification lit up the screen. Julia: “Can’t stop thinking about earlier. You’re incredible.” I picked up his phone. No password he’d never thought he needed one. I scrolled back. Days of messages. Weeks. “Meet me at the hotel.” “Your wife doesn’t suspect anything.” “I love the way you taste.” Photos, videos and transaction receipts from hotels charged to our joint account. I’d sat there for an hour reading every word while he snored ten feet away, completely oblivious that his entire life was about to implode. “You’re fired” I said my eyes glaring on her Alfred’s office door slammed open. “Evelyn, what the hell are you doing?” He pushed through the crowd in the doorway, face red, tie loosened like he’d been in a meeting. His eyes went from me to Julia to the coffee dripping onto his desk. “Firing your secretary .” Julia wiped at her face with shaking hands. “I didn’t …this isn’t…” “Pack your things and leave. Take it as a favour from me to you.” “Mr. Cole ?” Julia turned to him, mascara running, voice breaking thinking he would come to her rescue but he disappointed her like he always does He stood there in his perfect suit, jaw tight, calculating how this would look if anyone talked. The other staffers pretended to work, eyes glued to their screens, but I knew they were listening to every word. “ Evelyn you need to go home we will talk about this at home” he said voice low trying to calm the situation. “No.” I picked up his phone from the desk. His messages were still open. Her name at the top. I had walked in on Julia sitting on his desk her blouse loosened at the top his phone in her hand. She was alone but it looked like he was just with her and probably stepped out before I walked in. “We’re done discussing things privately.” “Give me the phone.” “Come get it.” He moved toward me. I stepped back, held the phone higher. “Everyone out,” Alfred said, not taking his eyes off me. Nobody moved. “Now.” Chairs scraped. Bags zipped. Within thirty seconds the office emptied except for Julia, still frozen by the desk, and Lawson hovering near the door like he might need to call security. “You too,” he told Lawson his campaign manager and trusted friend “Alfred, I think…” “Out.” He instructed again Lawson left. The door clicked shut. Julia stood up, coffee dripping onto the floor. “Mrs. Cole, I can explain…” “Explain what? That my husband’s dick has been in your mouth? That you’re fucking him in hotels on my credit card?” I turned to Alfred. “Or should she explain why your phone has three hundred texts to her that you thought you deleted?” “Evelyn…” “I recovered them. All of them. The photos, the videos, the hotel reservations.” I held up the phone. “Want me to read some out loud? Or should we just skip to the part where I send them to every reporter in the state?” Alfred’s face went white. “You wouldn’t.” “Try me.” Julia grabbed her purse on the desk and ran out sobbing. The door slammed. Alfred and I stood there in silence, three feet apart, a lifetime of lies between us. “That was unnecessary,” he said finally, voice still low like he was negotiating a contract. “Julia is young. Naive. She misunderstood our working relationship.” I laughed. Actually laughed. “Misunderstood? I have videos, Alfred. Of you fucking her in the back of your car.” His jaw tightened. “You’re being emotional. Let’s discuss this at home where we can…” “I’m not being emotional. I’m being very, very clear.” I took a step toward him. “How many, Alfred? How many Julias have there been?” He didn’t answer. He never did. Twenty-two years I have been married to Alfred and in all those years he never missed a day whoring around. I thought it would end, thought I was the problem if I fixed my body or my hair or went to Pilates five times a week and lost weight he would choose me. I bought lingerie he never saw me wear. Made reservations at restaurants we never went to. Pretended not to notice when he came home smelling like someone else’s perfume. I’d spent two decades making myself smaller so he could feel bigger. And for what? So he could fuck his secretary on his desk while I cleaned up his messes. And now standing across the room from him watching him embarrass me made me realize that just maybe he was beyond fixing. My eyes were teary at that realization not for him but for myself and for how stupid I had been all along hoping he would change . He walked towards me closing the gab between us “Evie…” “Don’t!” I said, turned my face away and grabbed my purse from the floor where it fell after I stormed in and dragged Julia off his desk. He tried to stop me by the door before I walked out but I payed no attention to him and by the time I did the walk of shame back to my car all his staff eyes were on me. I didn’t care if they saw me as a mad woman. Alfred made me mad.EvelynI was still sitting on the couch when I heard Alfred’s car in the driveway. The front door opened and slammed shut hard enough to rattle the frame.He walked into the living room and stopped when he saw me. His tie was loosened, jacket slung over one arm, and his face was red.“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”I looked up at him. “Alfred…”“Do you have any fucking idea?” He threw his jacket onto the chair and pulled out his phone, shoving it in my face. “This is everywhere. Every news outlet, every gossip blog, every social media platform. My wife caught in an affair with my former employee.”“They’re out there now and my campaign is in freefall because of you.”“Your campaign has been in freefall for months because of your own actions.”“My actions?” He laughed but it came out harsh. “My actions didn’t put photos of me fucking a twenty-five-year-old all over the internet.”“No, you just had people killed instead.”He went still. “What did you just say?”“Including your
EvelynI pulled into the driveway too fast and nearly hit the mailbox. Alfred’s car wasn’t there but both kids’ cars were parked in their usual spots.I grabbed my purse and ran to the front door, my hands shaking as I unlocked it.“Clara?”No answer.I walked through the foyer into the living room and found them both sitting on the couch. Clara had her phone in her hand, tears streaming down her face. Nathan sat beside her with his arms crossed, jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping.“What’s wrong? What happened?”Clara looked up at me and her expression was pure devastation. She held out her phone.I took it and the screen was open to some gossip website. The headline read: “GUBERNATORIAL CANDIDATE’S WIFE CAUGHT IN AFFAIR WITH CAMPAIGN STAFFER.”Below it were photos. Me and Theo at the coffee shop. Me getting into his car. Me leaving his apartment building late at night with my hair messed up and his hand on my back. The photo quality was clear, professional even. The
EvelynI pulled into Theo’s street just after three and parked two houses down from his house. His car was in the driveway, curtains drawn in the front window.I sat there for a minute looking at his door, my hands still gripping the steering wheel. After the meeting with Richard, after setting everything in motion to strip Alfred’s accounts and secure my own future, I’d driven here. Needing to see Theo. Needing to tell someone what I’d done.I got out and walked up the path. Knocked twice.He opened it almost immediately like he’d been waiting. His tie was loosened, shirt untucked, top two buttons undone. His hair was messed up like he’d been running his hands through it all day.“Hey.”“Can I come in?”He stepped back and I walked past him into the living room. The TV was on mute, some news channel playing footage of campaign rallies and political commentary. His laptop sat open on the coffee table surrounded by papers and empty coffee mugs.“I heard what happened,” I said, turning
EvelynThe restaurant was called Marchand, tucked on the top floor of a building downtown with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. I’d made the reservation under my maiden name and arrived fifteen minutes early.The hostess led me to a table in the back corner, away from the main dining area. I ordered water and sat facing the entrance.RichardHolm arrived at exactly one o’clock. Mid-fifties, gray hair, expensive suit. He’d been Alfred’s personal account manager for the last eight years, handling the offshore accounts and investment portfolios Alfred didn’t want traced back to him directly.I’d called him this morning using a number I’d found in Alfred’s study months ago.Richard spotted me and walked over, his expression just neutral. He sat down across from me without offering his hand.“Mrs. Cole.”“Thank you for meeting me.”“I almost didn’t come.” He picked up the menu the hostess had left. “Your husband and I have a longstanding professional relationship. This puts me
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