My chest tightened. I kept my head lowered, pretending I didn’t notice, but Rufus did.

His voice turned sharp. “If you two keep treating Annette like this, then don’t expect us to come back again.”

The room went silent until Mr. Anderson slammed his hand against the table, making me flinch. “Watch your mouth. Are you really saying you’d turn your back on your family for this woman?”

Before I could step away, Rufus caught my hand, threading his fingers through mine, holding me still. “Father, I’ve said this many times. Annette is the woman I love. The one person I can’t bear to hurt. I won’t even raise my voice at her, and yet you give her this coldness every time. Do you know what that does to me?” His grip on my hand tightened, “If this happens again, I won’t just walk out of this house. I’ll walk away from this family for good.”

The mafia boss everyone feared could order deaths with a snap of his fingers, but right then he sounded like a devoted husband willing to burn his whole world for me.

Pathetic. He thought I didn't know about his affair.

The room went quiet after Rufus threw his words out like a knife. He looked like the perfect protective husband, standing there like a shield in front of me. But I didn’t feel safe. I just felt… tired.

Mrs. Anderson sighed and finally muttered, “Fine. Let’s eat first.”

At the table, the only noise was the clink of silver against porcelain. Mrs. Anderson kept making those little annoyed sounds, and my hand tightened around my fork. I knew it was coming.

Sure enough, she dropped her fork and said, “It’s been nine months. Enough grieving. You lost a daughter, fine. But it’s time to give us a grandson. You can’t just end the Anderson bloodline.”

Her husband nodded, cold eyes fixed on me. “That child died because you didn’t care for her properly. A simple stomach ache, and she never came home from the hospital. Stop playing the victim, Annette. Conceive again and do it right this time.”

The words sliced straight through me, but before I could open my mouth, Rufus set his fork down. His voice was calm, but sharp enough to cut. “I already told you. Annette is scared of pain. I won’t let her suffer like that. If we never have kids, so be it.”

Their faces dropped, heavy with disdain, and the air grew thick. They were about to start another round when I finally spoke. My voice was steady, even.

“You’ll have a grandchild in half a month.”

The room froze. Three pairs of eyes cut toward me.

Rufus squeezed my hand, his face painted with that sweet, fake concern. “Sweetheart… You don’t have to force yourself for me. I’ll protect you.”

I almost laughed. Protect me? He couldn’t even stop himself from running into Maisie’s arms every chance he got.

I smiled anyway. “You two want a grandson so badly. Let’s make it happen for you.”

They softened instantly, pleased with my answer. But Rufus looked uneasy, like he could smell something wrong but didn’t know where it was coming from.

Then his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, and I caught the name. Maisie.

“Rufus, some guy wants a quickie, would it be okay?”

I counted in my head. One. Two. Three.

He stood right on cue. “Annette, I have to handle something at the office. Stay and finish dinner. I’ll come back for you later.”

He didn’t wait for me to answer. Just grabbed his jacket and left.

The second the door shut, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson dropped the fake politeness.

“We’ll give you less than a month. If you don’t conceive again, don’t ever dare show your face in this house. You come from nothing! Both your parents gone, no name, no wealth. Without Rufus, you’re no one. Don’t think we’ll tolerate you forever.”

Their words kept cutting, sharper each time, until it felt like the walls themselves were pressing in.

And Rufus? He never came back.

Rufus finally showed up that evening, calm as ever, like nothing happened. We got into the car, the leather still warm from the sun.

I glanced out the window and asked lightly, “You done with work?”

He hesitated, just for a breath, then said softly, “Yeah.” His fingers tapped against the wheel, steady, rhythmic. That was his little tell when he was in a good mood.

The silence stretched, and then he asked, “Did my parents give you trouble after I left?”

I was about to answer when my eyes caught something under the seat. A pair of torn silk stockings. Not mine.

So that’s where he’d been. I knew about Maisie, but I hadn’t expected he’d use this very car.

Seven years of marriage and I’d always been… careful. I wasn’t wild, I wasn't daring. Sometimes I even asked him if he wanted me to change, if I was boring him.

Back then, he just held me close, kissing my hair, whispering, “Sweetheart, I only want you. Even if you wore rags, you’d still be the one I’d choose. Don’t force yourself to be anything else. I love you the way you are.”

But the man who said those words now reeked of lies.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “What do you think?”

He thought I was talking about his parents. He had no idea I’d already seen through him.

He suddenly hit the brakes, pulled me into his arms, “I’m sorry, Annette. I shouldn’t have left you alone. I promise, it won’t happen again.”

His embrace felt like a cage.

I pressed my hands against his chest, pushing him off gently. “Just drive, Rufus. I'm tired.”

Because I knew deep down. There was no future left for us.

The moment I stepped into the house, I froze.

Maisie was lounging on the sofa already in a silky nightgown, eating chips like she owned the place.

“Didn’t you say you had a party tonight? Said you weren’t coming home?”

She gave me this shy little smile. “Oh, Annette, I forgot to mention. I had a fight with my boyfriend, so I went to the party to piss him off. Told him about it, but he didn’t care. Then, the second I got there, he showed up, dragged me out.”

Her fingers flicked at her collar, and the fabric slipped just enough to show the marks on her skin. Hickeys. Fresh. She gave me a sly look like it was some sort of prize.

“I didn’t expect him to be so jealous,” she said sweetly. “We ended up making out in the car. Three times.”

My nails bit into my palms so hard it hurt. But I kept my voice even. “When did you get a boyfriend? You never said a word.”

She just laughed lightly, tossing her hair. “Oh, about nine months ago after I came back from abroad and my brother introduce him to me.”

Nine months. The exact time she moved into this house. The exact time Rufus’s so-called friend asked him to “look after his sister.” What a joke. She’d latched onto him the first day.

I couldn’t stop my breathing from turning heavy. The rage sat right under my skin. And that’s when I felt it… Rufus’s hands, heavy on my shoulders.

“Sweetheart, you’ve had a rough day. Let me run you a bath. You need to rest.”

He guided me toward the bathroom like nothing was wrong.

I slipped inside, closed the door, and started undressing, the thought of soaking in the tub the only thing keeping me steady. Then I realized I’d forgotten clean clothes.

When I opened the door, the world stopped.

Not far away, Rufus was on top of Maisie. His hand ripped at her nightgown like it was paper, his mouth pressed against her skin while his grip locked on her waist.

She tilted her head back, letting out these soft little moans. “Easy… Annette’s still in the shower. Didn’t you get enough in the car earlier?”

He growled low, voice sharp, possessive. “Shut up! If you even think about letting another man touch you, you’ll regret it.”

She giggled, wicked and pleased, and then her eyes slid to me. Standing there, frozen.

“Alright,” she purred, “I won’t. I’m all yours. You’re so jealous, babe, hmm?”

That was enough. I grabbed my clothes, shut the bathroom door, and locked it.

The water was hot when I slid into the tub, but it didn’t burn as much as the memory replaying in my head.

Seven years ago. Our honeymoon on that island. I’d looked just once at a man with abs. Rufus lost his mind so he kept me locked inside the suite for a week.

When the bed broke and the supplies ran out, he pulled me close, “Annette, I’ve got everything you need. Don’t look at anyone else. Just promise me.”

I had promised him. Over and over.

And since then, I never dared to even glance at another man. But now, he was just as obsessed. Just not with me. With her.

I sank deeper into the water and let out a shaky breath.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Maisie was gone. Only Rufus was sitting there, calm as if nothing had happened.

On the table, there was a plate of neatly sliced fruit and a steaming cup of ginger tea. The sight made my chest tighten.

He stood and handed me the cup, “I know your period’s close. This will help with the cramps.”

The heat from the cup seeped into my hands, but inside, I felt ice cold. How could he act so normal? Just minutes ago, he was tearing at Maisie’s clothes. Now here he was, pretending to be the perfect husband.

***

I didn’t sleep much that night. My mind kept circling back to the same question: how many faces does he have?

Sometime before dawn, I must’ve drifted off. A sudden shout yanked me awake.

“Annette!”

He jolted up, hands searching wildly in the dark until he found me. His chest heaved, his grip crushing me against him. “Don’t go. Please… don’t leave me.”

I froze in his arms. “What’s wrong with you?”

His eyes were red, his breath still uneven. “I dreamt you walked away from me. It was hell, Annette. I woke up and you were here. Thank God you’re here.”

I looked down, words heavy on my tongue. I wanted to tell him the dream would come true soon. But I stayed quiet.

Maybe that nightmare shook him, because the next morning, he didn’t let me out of his sight. He insisted on driving me to work himself, like he was afraid I’d disappear the moment he blinked.

The moment we stepped into Rufus’s office, I froze. His entire desk was covered in pictures of me. Different angles, different days, some I didn’t even know he’d taken.

I felt a chill run through me. Before I could say anything, I felt him behind me. His arms slid around my waist, his lips brushing my neck.

“Annette,” he whispered, voice low and smooth, “a lot of women throw themselves at me. But when I look at these, I remember who I belong to. You don’t have to worry. I’m all yours.”

I kept my eyes on the pictures, my lips pressed tight. I couldn’t bring myself to answer.

A knock came at the door. Mateo’s voice followed. “Boss, the meeting’s about to start.”

Rufus sighed, reluctant, and held me a moment longer before letting go. “Stay here, baby. Walk around, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back soon.”

I nodded, though my chest was heavy. The last thing I wanted was to sit in his office surrounded by my own face. So I wandered. Floor after floor, pretending to look, pretending to care.

By noon, my phone buzzed. I picked it up quickly, my heart racing when I saw the caller ID.

“Ms. Annette Cooper,” the woman said politely, “your application for immigration has been approved. Please come to the consulate to collect your visa.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but a voice I knew too well cut in from behind me.

“Visa?”

My blood ran cold.

I turned slowly, and there he was—Rufus. His face had gone pale, like someone had pulled the ground out from under him.

“What visa?” he asked, his voice low but trembling.

My heart skipped, but I forced a small smile. “Not mine. A friend of mine’s planning to move abroad. She just called to ask me about it.”

For a second, he just stared at me, like he didn’t quite believe it. Then suddenly, he pulled me into his arms, holding me so tight I could barely breathe. His body was actually shaking.

“Annette,” he whispered into my hair, his voice raw, “don’t ever leave me. I thought for a moment you were going to disappear. I can’t… I can’t live without you.”

I rested my hand lightly on his back, pretending to soothe him. On the outside, I smiled faintly, calm and steady. Inside, though, my heart was already somewhere else. I knew the truth. I was leaving soon.

That afternoon, while he was tied up in meetings, I slipped away. I went straight to the immigration office and signed the last of my papers. My hands were trembling, but my mind had never been clearer.

***

That night was the Anderson Company’s big party. Everyone was there. Investors, partners, staff. The ballroom glittered with lights and champagne glasses.

I wore something simple. Quiet. I wanted no attention. Maisie, on the other hand, walked in wearing a blood-red dress that clung to every curve. All eyes followed her.

I caught Rufus choking a little on his drink when he saw men crowding around her. He smiled like a perfect host, but his jaw ticked. His rage was simmering under the surface.

Guests kept whispering about me, how lucky I was. How Rufus was “so obsessed” with me. Investors toasted to his devotion, calling me the envy of every woman in the room.

When a man offered Maisie a drink, Rufus stepped in, took the glass, and downed it himself. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Can’t risk my friend’s sister being taken advantage of,” he said smoothly.

Maisie chuckled, tilting her head. “Careful, Rufus. If you keep acting like this, Annette might get jealous.”

I smiled, my voice soft but firm. “No, I won’t. I know Rufus loves me. He can’t live without me.”

He glanced at me then, like he didn’t know whether to be flattered or afraid.

Then I noticed Maisie’s wrist. She was wearing a bracelet identical to mine.

Maisie noticed my stare. For a moment, her smile faltered. Then she quickly excused herself and slipped out of the ballroom.

I watched Rufus grow restless, pulling out his phone under the table. Moments later, he stood up, putting on that fake polite smile. “Excuse me, urgent call,” he muttered, before leaving too.

I knew exactly where he was going.

When I tried to follow, one of Rufus’s business partners—married, but notorious for cheating—blocked my way. He kept me in pointless conversation, smirking, stalling.

I forced a polite smile. “I’m not feeling well. I think I’ll head home early. Don’t trouble yourself with giving me a ride. I’ll grab a cab.”

I slipped past, my heels clicking softly against the marble floor. That’s when I heard it. A door left slightly ajar. Voices, gasps, the unmistakable rhythm of bodies colliding.

I froze, then leaned just enough to peek inside.

Maisie was straddling Rufus, riding him like she owned him. His hands gripped her thighs, his head thrown back, moaning.

Her eyes slid to mine. She saw me. And she smiled.

“Tell me, Rufus,” she purred, loud enough for me to hear. “Do you really love me? If not, I’ll go fuck your business partner right now.”

Rufus groaned, desperate, breathless. “I fucking love you, Maisie.”

Maisie’s smirk deepened, her gaze locked on me like she knew I was there. “Then get me pregnant. Do it inside me.”

His voice broke into a growl. “Yes, sweetheart,” he groaned, slamming harder into her.

My vision blurred with tears. I held my phone at my side, the camera already recording. Every word, every filthy confession, every betrayal, I caught it all.

Before they noticed me, I turned and walked away, silent as a shadow.

Back home, I pulled out my suitcase. My hands shook as I unzipped it, but my heart was steady.

This time, I wasn’t just thinking about leaving. This time, I really was.

---

I sat in the airport lounge, my passport and boarding pass tight in my hand, suitcase by my side. My phone buzzed. Of course, it was him. I took a breath and answered.

“Where are you, baby? Mateo said you weren’t—”

“I wasn’t feeling well,” I said softly. “Bad headache. I went home to rest.”

“I’ll send Mateo over with some medicine.”

“No need,” I cut in, keeping my voice steady. “I’m done taking those. I just want to sleep.” I let a small pause hang before adding, “But before you get home, there’s a little present waiting for you in our room. Please open it.”

I could picture it in my head. On the bedside table: the divorce papers, our wedding rings, and the USB with him and Maisie.

He let out a low chuckle. I heard a muffled sound on his end—a moan—and my blood ran cold.

“I will, sweetheart,” he said, voice laced with something I already knew. “But I can’t go home tonight. Got… important business.”

And then I heard it. Maisie’s laugh, right there, behind him.

“I’ll be home tomorrow,” he added like nothing was wrong.

I smiled faintly, my voice calm. “Yeah, sure.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“Mm. Sleep well,” I whispered, then ended the call before he could say another word. My hand trembled, but my chest felt lighter than it had in years.

When the boarding gate opened, I stood, clutching my passport like it was the only thing keeping me alive. My phone lit up again with his name. I didn’t hesitate... I powered it off.

Stepping onto the plane, I finally felt free. I whispered under my breath, “Goodbye, Rufus. I’m not yours anymore.”