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Chapter Eight: The Phone in the Flowerpot

last update publish date: 2026-01-27 04:55:47

(Alex’s POV)

Sleep refused to come that night.

I lay awake, staring into the darkness, replaying everything that had happened. It felt unreal—like I was trapped inside a nightmare I couldn’t wake from. Ariana’s words echoed in my mind, and the more I thought about them, the more they began to feel like prophecy.

Vanessa with a secret phone.

Late-night calls.

Documents.

Whispers.

Lies.

Something was wrong.

Deeply wrong.

My heart felt heavy, as though I was living in danger without knowing exactl
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    (Rose’s POV)Benson didn’t call this time.He sent a message.Simple.Direct.No unnecessary words.Location. 8 PM.A few seconds later, another message followed—An address.Different from the restaurant we had met at before.That alone told me something.Benson didn’t repeat patterns.He changed variables.And tonight… the setting was one of them.I stared at the address for a moment, my thoughts already aligning. A new location meant a new environment—and with someone like Benson, environment was never random.It was strategy.I didn’t respond immediately.There was no need.He wasn’t asking.He was informing.And somehow… I understood that.I locked my phone and set it aside, my expression calm, my mind already preparing.Tonight wouldn’t just be a continuation.It would be an adjustment.⸻The moment I stepped into the place, I understood something immediately—Benson didn’t just choose locations.He curated them.It was a wine lounge.Quiet.Refined.Expensive—but not loud about

  • UNFAITHFUL UNTILL THE END    Chapter 77- What Was Left Unsaid

    (Rose’s POV)Benson left.Just like that.One call, a few quiet words, and whatever held his attention in that moment had been strong enough to pull him away—from me, from the conversation, from control.I didn’t move immediately after he walked out.I stayed seated for a few minutes, my fingers resting lightly on the stem of the wine glass, my expression calm, almost indifferent to anyone who might have been watching. But inside, my thoughts were anything but still.I replayed everything.The call he made before I approached him.The words I overheard.Disobedience… investigation… consequences.And then the second call.The one that changed everything.I exhaled slowly, standing up at last and picking up my bag. There was no need to rush. No need to follow. That would be reckless—and this was not a game for reckless moves.Patience.That was the foundation of everything.I walked out of the restaurant with the same composed energy I had walked in with, my heels echoing softly against

  • UNFAITHFUL UNTILL THE END    Chapter 76- A Calculated Meeting

    (Rose’s POV)I dressed with intention.Not for attention alone—but for effect.Every choice I made in front of the mirror carried purpose. The outfit, the accessories, the posture I practiced even in stillness… all of it was deliberate. I needed to be noticed, yes—but more importantly, I needed to be remembered. There was a difference.Men, especially men like Benson, rarely overlooked what appealed to their senses. Attraction had a way of lowering guard, of creating openings where logic would normally stand firm. And tonight, I intended to use that.Still, beneath the surface of it all, the mission remained clear.Control every step.Reveal nothing unnecessary.Raise no suspicion.I had spent hours preparing—not just my appearance, but my story. The version of myself I had presented to Benson—a business consultant—was no longer just a claim. I had built it into something believable, something I could defend under pressure. Every possible question he might ask, I had already rehearsed

  • UNFAITHFUL UNTILL THE END    Chapter 75- The Call

    (Rose’s POV)The morning after the meeting, I returned to my office with a clear sense of direction. The encounter with Benson had been brief, measured, and deliberate, but it left me with more questions than answers—and that was exactly what I wanted. Every glance, every subtle gesture he had made carried meaning. Observing him was no longer theoretical. Now, it was real.I placed my bag down and immediately pulled out the file Daniel had given me. Every document, every note, every photograph suddenly felt heavier than its physical weight. Benson, Patrick, and his wife—their lives intertwined in ways that demanded careful scrutiny. He was meticulous, yes, but I had underestimated how aware he was of his own image, the way he presented himself, and the subtle control he wielded without needing to assert it overtly. Every detail in the file was a potential key, a thread that could lead me closer to understanding him.Benson had charisma—but it was the kind that concealed intelligence,

  • UNFAITHFUL UNTILL THE END    Chapter 74- The First Move

    (Rose’s POV)I carried the file back to my office with quiet precision, placing it carefully on my desk. The weight of the papers felt heavier than their actual mass, not because of paper, but because of the lives intertwined in them. Benson. Patrick, now gone. And his wife. My task was clear, yet dangerous—Benson was the target, and I needed to navigate this carefully, with intelligence and patience.I leaned back in my chair, spreading the documents before me. Photos, financial statements, meeting schedules, personal notes—it was all there. I studied every detail, analyzing patterns, cross-referencing every known fact. The pieces were starting to form a picture. Benson was meticulous, calculated, a man who left almost no trace of himself. But the traces that remained—the subtle connections, the timing of Patrick’s transactions, the gaps in his wife’s activities—those were mine to exploit.My fingers traced the edge of one photograph of Benson. I hadn’t met him physically, but I knew

  • UNFAITHFUL UNTILL THE END    Chapter 73-Calculated move

    (Daniel’s POV)After months of chasing shadows, piecing together fragments of truth, and trying to uncover what Benson was hiding, I realized something that made my stomach tighten. The closer I got to him, the more danger I drew to myself. Not immediate, not overt, but subtle, precise, unavoidable. Every step toward discovering his secrets carried a cost, and the cost was becoming too high.I sat at my desk, hands clasped loosely, staring at the papers in front of me. The files, the schedules, the transactions—all evidence collected carefully over months—were not enough if I risked everything by approaching him directly. Every move I made was now visible, traceable, and potentially catastrophic.It was a simple truth: I needed distance.But distance alone would not yield the results I required. Observation from afar had its limits. He was careful, controlled, meticulous—traits that made him predictable in some ways, but nearly untouchable in others. To uncover his routines, his habit

  • UNFAITHFUL UNTILL THE END    Chapter 39-A chance to make it right

    (Alex’s POV)After our discussion, Vanessa quietly went upstairs.Her movements were slow, almost lifeless. From the way she climbed the staircase, anyone could easily tell that the weight on her heart was far heavier than anything she could carry in her hands.A few minutes later, I began to hear

    last updateLast Updated : 2026-04-03
  • UNFAITHFUL UNTILL THE END    Chapter twelve - The man behind the door

    My heart was still racing when the door finally fell silent.The knock had stopped.But the fear didn’t.Sweat soaked my clothes as I sat frozen on the couch, my body trembling, my mind spiraling. Every shadow felt alive. Every sound felt dangerous. My chest felt tight, as though the walls themselv

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  • UNFAITHFUL UNTILL THE END    Chapter Nine: The Call That Changed Everything

    (Alex’s POV)The next day, I woke with one clear purpose in mind.I had to see Ariana.Not later.Not tomorrow.Not when it was convenient.Now.Every message I had read, every plan I had uncovered, every lie Vanessa and Lucas were weaving around her—none of it would matter if Ariana walked into th

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  • UNFAITHFUL UNTILL THE END    Chapter Seven: The Mask She Wore

    (Alex’s POV)I left Ariana’s place with my heart in pieces.The night air felt colder than it should, or maybe it was just the chill in my chest. Every step I took away from her door felt heavier than the last. My mind replayed her words like a broken record, each sentence cutting deeper than the o

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