I stood in front of the full-length mirror, smoothing the silk of my emerald green gown. It was backless, elegant, and expensive—armor for the battlefield. Ysmael had booked a private dinner cruise on the harbor.

It was his way of cementing the lie, of proving to himself and to me that we were the perfect, happy couple he needed for his grandfather’s approval.

I walked downstairs. Ysmael was waiting in the foyer, checking his watch. He looked dashing in his tuxedo, the very picture of a devoted husband.

“You look breathtaking,” he said, looking up. The admiration in his eyes was real, which only made it more pathetic. He loved the trophy, not the woman.

“Thank you,” I said, descending the last few steps. “Are we ready to go?”

“The car is waiting.”

He offered me his arm. Just as we were about to step out the door, the click of heels echoed from the hallway.

We both turned.

Kate was standing there. She was wearing a dress that was less of a garment and more of a suggestion. It was a shimmering, silver slip that barely covered her thighs, with a neckline that plunged dangerously low. Her makeup was heavy, smoky and seductive, and her lips were painted a dark, bruised crimson.

Ysmael stiffened beside me. His grip on my arm tightened.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice sharp.

Kate smirked, adjusting the strap of her purse. “Out. It’s Friday night, Ysmael. I’m going to a club.”

“Like that?” Ysmael snapped, stepping away from me. “You’re practically naked, Kate. Go upstairs and change.”

Kate rolled her eyes, a petulant gesture that grated on my nerves. “Why should I? You’re not my boyfriend.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with double meaning.

“I am your boss,” Ysmael countered, his voice rising. “And I am your brother’s best friend. He told me to watch over you while you’re staying here. What if something happens to you dressed like that? What kind of message are you sending?”

“I can take care of myself,” Kate shot back. “Nothing will happen. I’m just going to a party. Maybe find a boyfriend. Someone who actually has time for me.”

She shot a pointed, venomous look at Ysmael.

I watched them, a silent observer to their twisted dynamic. This wasn't a protective brotherly concern. This was jealousy. Pure, green-eyed jealousy. He couldn’t stand the thought of another man touching what he considered his property.

“You are not going out like that,” Ysmael growled.

“Watch me.” Kate turned toward the door.

“Stop!” Ysmael lunged forward, grabbing her arm. He looked frantic. He looked at me, then back at her, his mind racing to find a solution that kept her close and me oblivious.

“Just come with us,” he blurted out.

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

Ysmael turned to me, his smile strained. “Let’s just bring her along, Alice. To the cruise.”

“No,” I said, my voice cold. “Why would she come? It’s our date, Ysmael. A romantic dinner.”

“Come on, honey,” Ysmael pleaded, sweating slightly. “You know how she is. She’s just a kid. If she goes out to a club alone, she’ll get into trouble. Her brother would kill me if anything happened to her. It’s safer if she’s with us.”

“She is a grown woman,” I said, crossing my arms. “She can make her own decisions. I don’t want a third wheel on our date.”

“It’s okay,” Kate said, pulling her arm from his grip. Her voice was thick with mock hurt. “She doesn’t want me there. I get it. I’ll just go find some fun elsewhere.”

She turned to leave again.

“Dammit, Alice!” Ysmael snapped at me. The mask slipped completely. His eyes were blazing with irrational anger. “Why are you being so difficult? It’s just dinner! Why can’t you be more understanding?”

I stared at him. The audacity was breathtaking.

“Why are you getting mad?” I asked calmly. “You’re shouting at your wife because she wants to have dinner alone with you? Is that unreasonable?”

I stepped closer to him.

“Choose, Ysmael,” I said softly. “Between me and her. Do you want a date with your wife, or do you want to babysit your secretary?”

Ysmael looked between us. He looked at Kate, who was waiting with a smug challenge in her eyes. He looked at me, standing firm. He knew he couldn’t choose her without blowing his cover.

He clenched his jaw. “Fine. It’s you. It’s always you, Alice.”

He turned to Kate. “Stay home. Please.”

“Whatever,” Kate scoffed. She turned on her heel and stormed back upstairs.

The cruise should have been romantic. The city skyline glittered against the dark water, the food was exquisite, and a violinist played softly in the corner.

But Ysmael wasn’t there.

Physically, he sat across from me. Mentally, he was miles away. He barely touched his wine. His leg bounced nervously under the table. Every two minutes, he checked his phone, hiding the screen under the table cloth.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, cutting into my steak.

“What? Yes. Yes, fine. Just… work emails,” he muttered, not looking up.

I knew who he was texting. I knew he was tracking her, pleading with her, probably promising her the moon to keep her from going out.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed loudly on the table. He snatched it up. His face went white.

He stood up so abruptly his chair screeched against the deck.

“I have to go,” he said.

“What?” I put down my fork. “Ysmael, we haven’t even had dessert. What is it?”

“It’s Kate,” he said, panic making his voice shrill. “She went out. She’s at a bar downtown. She… she says some guys are harassing her. She’s scared.”

“Call the police then,” I said, taking a sip of my wine.

“No! I have to go get her. She’s hysterical.” He was already moving, buttoning his jacket with trembling hands. “I’m sorry, Alice. I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Just… finish dinner. The driver will take you home.”

He didn’t wait for my answer. He didn’t kiss me goodbye. He turned and ran toward the exit, desperate to save his mistress, leaving his wife alone in the middle of the ocean.

I watched him go.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t feel a thing.

I finished my wine slowly, savoring the rich, oaky flavor. I signaled the waiter.

“Check, please,” I said. “And pack the dessert to go.”

When I got home, the house was empty. They were probably together now, him comforting her, her gloating that she had won.

But it was okay because in two days I’d be gone, and he’d receive the best anniversary gift ever.

The night before our anniversary, I had finished packing the last of my essentials when I heard them. It was coming from the guest room down the hall. Kate’s room. They probably thought I was already sleeping.

I walked softly down the hallway, my phone already in my hand, the camera app open. The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling onto the carpet.

I didn’t need to see them to know what they were doing. The sounds were unmistakable—the frantic, desperate rhythm of two people trying to consume each other. But then, the noises stopped, replaced by the sharp tone of Kate’s voice.

“I hate it,” she spat. “I saw the box, Ysmael. The necklace you bought for her. It’s real diamonds. Vintage. You told me you were getting her something cheap!”

“Baby, keep your voice down. She might wake up.” Ysmael soothed, though he sounded breathless. “It’s just a prop. It’s for the press. Tomorrow is the merger. The anniversary. I have to look like the doting husband. If I give her costume jewelry, the tabloids will tear us apart.”

“I wanted that necklace,” Kate whined. “You promised me diamonds.”

“I’ll buy you ten necklaces. Better ones. Once this is over. Once the old man signs the papers.”

I held the phone steady, angling the lens through the crack in the door. I caught them clearly—Ysmael sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, and Kate kneeling between his legs, clutching the sheets.

“I’m tired of waiting, Ysmael,” Kate said, her voice trembling with a mix of lust and fury. “I’m tired of being the secret. I want something that binds us. Something she can’t take away.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wild.

“Make me pregnant,” she demanded. “Right now. Make me pregnant.”

Ysmael hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Kate, we talked about this. The timing…”

“Prove it!” she hissed. “Prove you love me more than her. Put a baby in me, Ysmael. Make me the mother of your heir.”

Ysmael groaned, his resistance crumbling under her touch. “Okay. Okay, baby. Anything you want.”

He pulled her down onto the mattress.

I didn’t look away. I didn’t feel sick. I felt a cold, clinical satisfaction. I pressed the record button, capturing every word, every promise, every betrayal. I let it run for a full minute, ensuring the audio was crisp, the faces identifiable.

Then, I stopped the recording. I saved the file to the cloud, then to a secure folder, then sent a copy to my lawyer.

The next evening, the Grand Ballroom was a sea of tuxedos and designer gowns. It was the social event of the season.

I wore the necklace. The diamonds felt heavy and cold against my throat, a collar of ownership I was about to snap.

Ysmael was at my side, his hand resting possessively on the small of my back. He played the part perfectly, smiling for the cameras, laughing at the right moments, leaning in to whisper endearments that meant nothing.

“You look magnificent, Alice,” he said for the benefit of the photographer flashing bulbs in our faces.

“Happy Anniversary, darling,” I replied, my smile dazzling.

We moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations. Kate was there, of course. She was wearing a red dress that clashed with the decor, hovering near the champagne tower, her eyes tracking us with predatory intensity.

Then, the music lowered. A spotlight hit the stage.

Ysmael’s grandfather, the Chairman, slowly walked up to the microphone. He looked frail, but his eyes were sharp.

“Tonight,” the old man wheezed, his voice amplified across the silent room. “We celebrate not just a merger, but a legacy. A legacy of family. Stability. Loyalty.”

He raised a glass toward us.

“To my grandson, Ysmael. And to his lovely wife, Alice. It is because of her strength, her grace, and her unwavering support that I feel confident in handing over the reins of this company. A man who cannot keep a home cannot keep an empire. But Ysmael… he has chosen well.”

Applause thundered. Ysmael squeezed my waist, beaming. He thought he had won. He thought the keys to the kingdom were in his pocket.

“I love you,” he whispered to me.

“I know,” I lied.

The reception began. The crowd swarmed us. I played the dutiful wife for twenty more minutes. Then, I felt Ysmael’s hand slip away.

“I need to use the restroom,” he muttered, patting his pocket where his phone was vibrating.

I watched him go. He didn’t head to the restroom. He headed toward the service elevators. I glanced toward the bar. Kate was gone.

They couldn’t help themselves. Even on the most important night of his life, with his grandfather watching, they had to sneak away for a quick thrill. They probably thought they were invincible.

It was perfect.

I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t say goodbye to anyone. I simply turned and walked toward the main exit. I moved through the lobby, past the security, and out into the cool night air where a black sedan was waiting.

“To the airport,” I said to the driver. “Step on it.”

I was standing at the gate, the boarding pass in my hand, when my phone began to buzz.

I looked at the screen. Hubby.

He must have returned to the ballroom. He must have looked for his trophy wife to stand by his side for the final toast, only to find empty air.

I let it ring.

It stopped, then rang again immediately. Then the texts started pouring in.

Ysmael: Alice? Where are you?

Ysmael: People are asking for you. Grandpa is looking for you.

Ysmael: Stop playing games. This isn’t funny. Come back to the ballroom.

Ysmael: Alice! Pick up the damn phone!

I could imagine the panic setting in. I didn’t answer the call. Instead, I typed a single message.

To: Hubby

“I’m tired, so I went home. Can you please come home, too? I have your gift here in our room. Happy Anniversary, Ysmael."

I hit send then blocked his number. I dropped the phone into my bag, picked up my carry-on, and walked down the jet bridge. I didn’t look back.