I stood at the head table of the Poltort Estate ballroom, champagne glass trembling in my hand.

Tonight was our fifth wedding anniversary. Five years of being Mrs. Tyron Poltort, wife to one of the most powerful mafia bosses in the city.

The crystal chandelier cast golden light over three hundred guests, crime lords, politicians, and business moguls.

They were all here to celebrate us.

"To my beautiful wife," Tyron stood, raising his glass. His voice boomed across the room. "Morry has been my rock. My partner. The woman who stands beside me through everything."

Applause thundered. I forced a smile, my cheeks aching from holding it for the past three hours.

"And to celebrate this milestone," Tyron continued, his hand warm on my shoulder.

"I have a special surprise."

He gestured to the massive LED screen behind us. My heart swelled. A video montage, perhaps? Photos from our wedding day? I had mentioned wanting something sentimental just last week.

The lights dimmed. The screen flickered to life.

But it wasn't our wedding photos.

It was security footage. Grainy, but clear enough.

Me, entering the Rosewood Hotel three months ago.

Me, in the elevator with Alberto Barella… Tyron's biggest rival. Then it switched to me leaving his penthouse suite at 2 AM, adjusting my coat.

The timestamp glowed in the corner like an accusation.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

"What is this?" I whispered, turning to Tyron.

His face was stone cold. He was unrecognisable.

Then the audio crackled through the speakers. My voice, distorted but unmistakable, spliced together from different conversations.

"I'll do whatever it takes. My body is yours if that's what you want. Just tell me when and where."

"No," I breathed, backing away from the table. "That's not real. That's not-"

"Is this how you repay me?" Tyron's voice cut through the ballroom like a blade. He wasn't looking at me. He was performing for the crowd.

"Is this how you honor our marriage? By spreading your legs for my enemy?"

"Tyron, please," I reached for him, my fingers grazing his sleeve. "This is fake. Someone edited-"

"Don't touch me!" He recoiled, disgust twisting his handsome features. "Alberto Barella? The man who has tried to destroy my family for years? You gave yourself to him?"

The room erupted in whispers. Faces I had smiled at for five years now looked at me with contempt and pity.

"I didn't!" I screamed, my voice breaking. "Tyron, you know me. You know I would never-"

A figure rose from a table near the back. Hixia, my best friend since college, rushed toward the stage. Her face was painted with perfect concern, tears were already streaming down her cheeks.

"Morry," she said softly, taking my hands. Her grip was like iron. "Oh, Morry. Why did you do this to yourself?"

"Hixia, tell them," I pleaded, searching her eyes for the friend I knew. "Tell them I would never-"

"I tried to warn you," Hixia said, her voice carrying across the silent room.

She turned to address the crowd, her shoulders shaking with sobs. "I saw the signs. The secret phone calls. The late nights. I confronted her last month, and she told me she was in love with Alberto. She said Tyron was cold and distant. That Alberto made her feel alive."

"That's a lie!" I shrieked, trying to pull away from her. "Hixia, what are you doing?"

"I wanted to tell you, Tyron," Hixia continued, ignoring my protests.

She released my hands and walked to Tyron, placing her palm on his chest in a gesture far too intimate.

"But I didn't want to break your heart. I thought if I stayed close to Morry, I could guide her back to you. I hoped she would come to her senses."

Tyron's jaw clenched. He looked at me, and for a split second, I saw something flicker in his eyes.

Then it vanished, replaced by ice.

"Get her out of my sight," he said quietly.

Two of his men stepped forward and clutched my arms.

"No! Tyron, please!" I struggled, my heels skidding on the polished floor. "Let me explain! This is a setup! Look at the evidence properly!"

"The evidence is on that screen," Tyron said, his voice devoid of emotion. He turned his back on me, accepting a fresh glass of champagne from a waiter.

"Take her to the east wing. Lock the door. I'll deal with her after the guests leave."

They dragged me through the ballroom as three hundred people watched in silence. Some looked away. Others smiled, enjoying the spectacle of my downfall.

At the doorway, I twisted around one last time.

Hixia was standing beside Tyron, her hand resting on his arm. She looked up at him with perfect sympathy, murmuring something that made him nod stiffly.

And then she looked at me.

For one brief moment, her mask slipped. The concern vanished, replaced by a cold, victorious smirk.

She mouthed two words… "I won."

The door slammed shut. They shoved me into a bedroom in the east wing, far from our shared suite, far from anywhere guests would wander. The lock clicked from the outside with a finality that made my stomach drop.

I collapsed onto the floor, my gown pooling around me like a puddle of blood. My chest heaved as my vision blurred with tears.

Then I felt it. A wave of nausea so violent I barely made it to the attached bathroom before I vomited.

When the heaving stopped, I sat on the cold tile floor, trembling. My body felt like it was breaking apart from the inside.

I pressed a hand to my stomach and closed my eyes…

I was six weeks pregnant, the doctor had confirmed it three days ago.

I had been planning to tell Tyron tonight, after the toast. I had imagined his face lighting up, imagined him lifting me into his arms and spinning me around like he used to when we first got married.

Now that future was ash, all because of Hixia.

"Since you betrayed me," I whispered to the empty bathroom, my voice hoarse.

"I'll destroy you."

Sunlight burned through the curtains, stabbing into my eyes.

I was still on the bathroom floor. My body ached from sleeping on cold tile. My throat was raw from crying and vomiting. The emerald gown I had spent three months choosing was wrinkled and stained.

A sharp knock echoed through the room.

"Mrs. Poltort," a male voice called. "Mr. Poltort requests your presence in his study. Now."

I dragged myself up, using the sink for support. My reflection was a disaster. Mascara streaked my cheeks. My hair had fallen from its elaborate updo. I looked like exactly what they wanted me to look like.

Like a guilty woman caught in her lies.

I splashed cold water on my face and walked to the door.

It opened before I could touch the handle. One of Tyron's guards stood there, his expression blank.

"This way."

He didn't wait for me to respond. He turned and walked down the hallway. I followed, my bare feet was silent on the marble floors. Somewhere during the night, I had kicked off my heels.

The estate felt different in daylight. It was empty and cold.

The guard stopped outside Tyron's study. He raised his hand to knock, but paused when voices drifted through the heavy oak door.

"-sure she believed it?" Tyron's voice.

"Completely," Hixia replied, sounding pleased with herself. "Did you see her face when the video played? She was destroyed."

I froze. The guard had walked a few steps away, checking his phone. He wasn't paying attention.

I moved closer to the door.

My hand moved to the secondary phone in my pocket they didn't know about. I pulled it out carefully, keeping it hidden in the folds of my dress. I pressed the red button twice.

The screen lit up faintly. It was recording.

I held it near the crack in the door.

"Your tech team did an excellent job with the audio splicing," Hixia continued.

"Even I almost believed it was real. Those recordings of her talking about 'doing whatever it takes.' It was genius to pull those from her client presentations."

"The timestamps were the key," Tyron said. "She really was at the Rosewood that night. She really did meet with Alberto for coffee. We just... recontextualized it."

"Recontextualized," Hixia laughed. "I love how you make it sound so professional. You framed your wife for adultery, Tyron. Just admit it."

"She gave me no choice," Tyron's voice turned cold. "Five years, Hixia. Five years and no heir. The family was starting to question my judgment. Question my virility. I needed a way out that made me look like the victim."

"And now you have it," Hixia said softly. "By this time next month, the divorce will be finalized. The infidelity clause means she gets nothing. And I'll be the devoted girlfriend who helped you through your darkest hour."

"Not girlfriend," Tyron corrected. "I want you to be my wife. As soon as the divorce is final."

"And I'll give you what she couldn't," Hixia purred. "A son. An heir. Everything you deserve."

"Does she suspect anything?" Tyron asked.

"How could she?" Hixia laughed. "I'm her best friend. I've been by her side for eight years. She trusts me completely. Even now, she probably thinks I'm trying to help her."

"You played your part perfectly last night," Tyron said. "The tears. The reluctant confession. Everyone believed you."

"Well, I had eight years of practice studying her," Hixia said. "I know exactly how she thinks. How she reacts. She's so predictable, Tyron. So... breakable."

"What about Alberto?" Tyron asked. "Does he suspect he was used?"

"He has no idea," Hixia said. "He thinks someone leaked genuine footage. I heard he's furious, actually. Something about you trying to make him look like a homewrecker to damage his reputation with the other families."

"Perfect," Tyron said with satisfaction. "Let him be furious. Let him think I'm playing games. It keeps him distracted while we consolidate our territory."

My hands were shaking. My vision blurred with rage and grief.

Everything. Every moment of last night. It was all a lie.

It was all a carefully orchestrated performance designed to destroy me.

The guard's footsteps approached. I quickly pressed the red button twice to stop the recording and slipped the phone back into my pocket.

But I had it.

I had proof that the footage was fake and that they had conspired to destroy me. I quickly wiped my eyes and stepped back from the door just as he turned around.

"Ready?" he asked, raising his hand to knock.

"Yes," I said, my voice surprisingly steady.

He knocked twice. The conversation inside stopped abruptly.

"Come in," Tyron called.

The guard opened the door and gestured for me to enter.

Tyron sat behind his massive mahogany desk, still wearing his tuxedo from last night. His bow tie hung loose around his neck. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, probably from staying up late celebrating his victory with Hixia.

Hixia sat in the leather armchair to the side, wearing one of my silk robes. Her hair was wet. She'd showered in my bathroom.

She looked up when I entered, and her face transformed into perfect concern with those worried eyes and trembling lips.

The mask was flawless.

"Oh, Morry," she said softly, standing up. "I'm so glad Tyron is giving you a chance to explain."

I looked at her. This woman I had trusted with everything.

And now I knew.

I knew it was all fake. The friendship, the concern, the tears.

All of it was a performance.

But they didn't know I knew.

And that was my only advantage.

"Sit," Tyron commanded, pointing to the chair across from him.

I sat, folding my hands in my lap to stop them from shaking, not with fear, but with rage.

"I should kill you," Tyron said conversationally. "That's what my father would have done. That's what the family expects me to do."

"But Tyron is merciful," Hixia interjected, walking over to place her hand on his shoulder. "He wants to give you a chance to redeem yourself."

I watched her touch him. They'd been sleeping together for months, probably. Maybe longer.

"I didn't betray you," I said, keeping my voice small. Broken. Exactly what they expected.

"That footage was edited. If you would just let me explain-"

"Explain what?" Tyron interrupted. He opened a folder on his desk and slid several photographs across to me.

"Explain these?"

I looked down. There were more security footage, especially of me with Alberto at various locations.

"Those were business meetings," I said, letting my voice tremble. "He wanted to discuss a truce. I was trying to help you."

"By keeping secrets?" Tyron asked, his voice cold.

"I was going to tell you," I said. "But the timing was never right."

"The timing was never right," Tyron repeated mockingly. "How convenient."

Hixia crouched beside my chair, taking my hand. Her grip was gentle.

"Morry," she said softly. "I know this is hard. But maybe... maybe it's time to be honest. About your feelings for Alberto. About why you really met with him."

I looked into her eyes. I saw the calculation beneath the sympathy.

She wanted me to confess. To make it easy for them.

"You're right," I whispered, looking down. "I should be honest."

Tyron leaned forward slightly, anticipation flickering across his face.

"I met with Alberto because I was trying to broker peace," I said clearly. "Because I love you, Tyron. Because I wanted to protect you from another territory war. That's the truth."

Hixia's grip on my hand tightened painfully for just a second before she released it.

"But if you don't believe me," I continued, forcing tears into my eyes. "If you want me to leave... I'll go. I have nowhere else to go, but I'll find somewhere. I won't stay where I'm not wanted."

"No," Tyron said sharply.

I looked up, surprised, genuinely this time.

"You'll stay," Tyron said. "But not as my wife. Not anymore. You'll stay as... staff. You'll work for the household. Prove your loyalty through service."

"Tyron," Hixia said, her voice carefully measured. "Are you sure that's wise? Maybe it's better if she just leaves-"

"She stays," Tyron said firmly. "I want to watch her grovel. I want her to understand what she's lost."

He looked at me with such cold satisfaction that I almost broke character.

But I held it together.

"How long?" I asked quietly.

"Until I decide you've suffered enough," Tyron said.

"I understand," I said, lowering my head submissively.

Inside, I was calculating. Planning.

They thought I was broken. They thought I believed the footage was real.

But I knew the truth.

And I would use their confidence against them.

"The head housekeeper will give you your assignments," Tyron said dismissively. "Start today."

I stood up with my legs trembling, but not from fear, but from the effort of containing my rage.

"Oh, and Morry?" Tyron called as I reached the door.

I turned back.

"Don't even think about leaving the estate," he said. "I have men at every exit. You try to run, and I'll assume you're going to Alberto. And then I really will kill you."

"I won't run," I said softly. "I have nowhere to go."

I walked out and closed the door behind me.

In the hallway, I leaned against the wall and pressed my hand to my stomach.

"Since you betrayed me," I said to myself, "I'll completely stop loving you."

"And I'll make you pay for every lie."