Twisted Rivalry

Daniela

"That will be one hundred and fifty bucks," the counter attendant said, handing over the tied pastry box.

"Thank you," I replied, tapping my card against the payment terminal. I looked through the clear cellophane window of the box, a genuine smile tugging at my lips. Inside sat a flawless red velvet cake with thick, whipped cream cheese frosting. It was his absolute favorite.

Today was a massive milestone. Two whole years of navigating life, long hours, and dreams side-by-side with Ethan Smith—my boyfriend. My heart fluttered with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation as I walked out of the bakery and hailed a cab.

As the cab wove through afternoon traffic, my cheeks flushed warm. Maybe today is finally the day. For two years, I had preserved my virginity. Not because I was deeply religious, but because Ethan was a staunch, unwavering believer in the "no sex before marriage" rule. Every single time things grew heavy between us on his sofa, every time my skin burned for his touch and I practically begged him to take me, he would gently but firmly push my hands away. "We are protecting our future, Daniela," he would whisper, kissing my forehead like I was a fragile piece of glass. "True love waits."

I respected and adored him for that. I had found a rare, honorable gentleman in a world full of predators. Today, I was hoping our anniversary might finally bend his ironclad rules just a little.

The cab pulled up to his apartment building. I paid the driver, grabbed the cake box, and practically floated up the stairs to his floor. It was barely 3:00 PM on a Sunday, but Ethan had called me earlier complaining about mandatory weekend overtime to prepare for an upcoming corporate audit at his accounting firm. He shouldn't be home for another three hours. This surprise was going to be perfect!

I slid my spare key into the deadbolt, turning it silently, and pushed the door open.

My brows knitted together instantly. The living room lights were blazing. A pair of expensive leather dress shoes—shoes I didn't recognize—were discarded carelessly by the entryway.

Did he leave work early?

I stepped inside, setting the house keys down on the edge of the couch, my fingers tightening around the string of the cake box. I took two steps toward the hallway, and then I came to a halt.

A low, guttural grunt vibrated through the drywall. It was followed by a sharp, wet, rhythmic thudding sound coming directly from his bedroom. Then came a raspy, breathless moan that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

My brain short-circuited. I wasn't naive. I knew exactly what those sounds meant, but my mind desperately tried to construct a logical lie. Is he watching p**n? No, Ethan despised p**nography. He called it a sin against intimacy.

Driven by a sickening, cold dread that pooled in my stomach, I walked down the hallway. The sounds grew louder, filthier, and completely uninhibited.

"Fuck, yes… take it, Ethan. Arch your back more for me, baby," a deep, dominant voice growled.

"Ah—God, Clifford, yes! Faster… please, faster!"

That second voice knocked the air from my lungs. That was Ethan.

My heart battered violently against my ribs as I pushed the bedroom door wide open. The scene that greeted my eyes was a nightmare burned into my retinas with radioactive heat.

My boyfriend—my saintly, wait-until-marriage man—was entirely naked on his hands and knees. Stationed heavily behind him was Clifford, the muscular "work colleague" Ethan had introduced to me six months ago. Clifford's hands were clamped bruisingly onto Ethan's hips, burying himself deep into Ethan's ass with brutal force.

Ethan’s eyes were closed, his head thrown back in pure ecstasy, a trail of saliva glistening on his chin as he took every deep, heavy thrust.

The string of the cake box slipped from my paralyzed fingers and hit the floor with a hollow thud.

The noise shattered the room and both heads snapped toward the door in absolute horror.

"Daniela!" Ethan shrieked. His face drained of color as he scrambled off the mattress, stumbling over his trousers to drag a blanket over his sweating body. Clifford backed against the wall, pulling his boxers up with trembling hands.

Shock transformed into a blinding volcanic rage. I marched across the room.

Smack!

My palm connected with Ethan's face so hard his head whipped aside, a bright red handprint blooming on his skin. "You lying, disgusting piece of trash!" I roared.

I whirled onto Clifford, who was trying to slip past me. Smack! I caught him across the jaw with the exact same fury. "And you! In his room? On his bed?"

"Hey! Don't you dare lay your fucking hands on him!" Ethan yelled, physically shoving me backward to shield Clifford.

I stumbled against the dresser, a cynical, humorless laugh bubbling up. "Did you just push me? You are defending him over me?" I choked out. "Two years, Ethan! I lived like a nun because I thought you respected me!"

Ethan's panicked expression suddenly hardened into a cold, venomous sneer. He dropped the blanket, completely unbothered by his nudity. "Oh, please, Daniela. Grow up," he spat. "Honor you? You are so incredibly stupid it's actually pathetic."

"What did you just say to me?"

"You want the truth? Fine! I'm gay," Ethan retorted with absolute malice. "Clifford isn't my colleague; he's my actual boyfriend. We've been together since before I met you. You were nothing but a perfect, convenient little shield to keep my conservative family off my back."

The room spun. "A shield…" I whispered, tears burning my eyes. "Is that why you never touched me? All those nights, it wasn't because of marriage… it was because of him?"

"Exactly," Ethan chuckled darkly, a sick smirk twisting his lips. "The very thought of a woman makes my skin crawl. And let's be completely real, Daniela—even when you tried to give me a BJ to 'please' me, it was absolutely dreadful. You suck at it. You have zero technique, and it felt like a chore just sitting through it."

Clifford let out a low, mocking snicker.

That was my absolute breaking point. The heartbreak evaporated, leaving only a ruthless desire to destroy him.

"You narcissistic, pathetic closeted coward," I said, my voice dropping into a deadly, quiet register that cut off Clifford's laugh. "You wasted two years of my life because you didn't have the balls to face who you really are."

I bent down and picked up the heavy, ruined red velvet cake.

"Happy anniversary, Ethan."

Before he could react, I slammed the entire cake directly into his smirking face. Thick cream cheese and heavy red sponge exploded across his eyes, nose, and hair, dripping down his bare chest in a messy sludge. He sputtered, choking on the frosting as he staggered back.

"We are done!" I hissed.

I turned on my heel, walked out after picking my purse, and slammed the apartment door so hard the glass pane rattled. I rushed down the stairs, skin vibrating with furious energy.

The moment I hit the pavement, my phone blared in my hand. The caller ID displayed Skylar—my best friend.

I pressed answer, and a wall of deafening, pounding electronic bass music exploded through the speaker, accompanied by the muffled screams of a crowd.

"Skylar?!" I yelled over the noise, wiping a stray tear. "Where on earth are you?"

"Daniela! Oh my god, you need to get down here!" Skylar screamed, sounding completely tipsy and full of life. "There is this insane new nightclub that just opened downtown. The vibe is unreal, the men are gorgeous, and the drinks are flowing! Look, I know you won't come because of your holy boyfriend, but I just wanted to check in—"

At the mere mention of Ethan's name, a tidal wave of hot fury crashed through my chest. Two years of my youth, flushed down the toilet. I had denied myself pleasure, fun, and life, staying home like a prisoner for a man who was literally getting his ass torn open by his coworker while calling me a chore.

I am done being the good girl.

"I'm coming," I snapped, my voice sharp as steel.

The music on the other end seemed to dull as Skylar choked on her drink. "Wait... what? Did you just say you're coming? Oh my god, Daniela, what happened? Did you guys fight?"

"Are you going to give me the damn name of the club or not, Skylar?" I shouted, my patience completely evaporated.

"Okay, okay! Chill!" Skylar replied, buzzing with sudden shock. "It's called Club Inferno. Hurry up!"

The line went dead. I stared at the dark screen for a fraction of a second, my heart hammering a reckless rhythm. I turned toward the street, threw my hand in the air, and hailed the first cab that sped around the corner.