Jane's POV

On my twenty-fifth birthday and wedding anniversary, I walked in on my husband having sex with his sister.

I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I just stood there—frozen—watching the man I had built my world around, tangled in the sheets with the woman I thought was his sister.

For a second, everything in the room disappeared. The bed, the gifts, the moans, even my own body… it all faded.

All I could see was Kelvin. And the betrayal in his eyes. Cold and Calculated. Like he’d been waiting for me to find out.

The day had started perfectly, I'd just closed the biggest deal in Thorne Tech history, a billion-dollar acquisition that would put us on the global map.

My team was ecstatic, champagne corks were flying and I was flooded with messages of congratulations but all I could think about was getting home to my husband Kelvin to share the moments with him and surprise him with the gifts I had picked out for him and paid millions for!

I remember grinning like a fool as I called the luxury store and screamed, “I want everything ready in an hour! Cartier, Rolex, custom cigars—yes, all of it! Wrap them in gold ribbons and deliver them home. I want today to be perfect for my husband!”

Perfect? God, I was such a fool.

I had no idea I was planning a grand celebration for a man who had already stripped me of my dignity behind closed doors.

When I walked into the mansion, humming to myself, the delivery team greeted me with smiles and bowed heads.

They’d stacked the gifts beautifully in the foyer, just the way I asked. I tipped them generously, still giddy with excitement.

I remember thinking, He’s going to cry when he sees this. I’ve outdone myself.

And then I heard it.

The unmistakable sound of skin slapping against skin. The breathless moans. A low, guttural groan that didn’t belong in our home—at least not like that, maybe it was the TV, maybe he was watching something inappropriate maybe —

My heart dropped. My heels clicked louder with every step down the hallway as I followed the sounds like a moth to fire, stupidly hoping it was a misunderstanding.

But when I flung the door open, there was no confusion. Just betrayal in high definition.

Kelvin was sprawled across our marital bed, sweat-slicked and smug, while Daphne scrambled for the duvet.

The box slipped from my hand and the watch tumbled out landing with a hollow thud on the hardwood floor.

“Oh, Jane...” Kelvin said casually, not even bothering to cover himself. “It’s not what you think.”

Not what I think?

I laughed. Loud. Bitter. The kind of laugh that sounds like it’s choking on blood.

“Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like what I think.” I took a step inside, barely able to feel my feet beneath me. “You’re in our bed. On our anniversary, on my birthday With your sister!”

Daphne said nothing. She wouldn’t even look at me. She just held the sheets tighter, as if modesty could somehow fix this hellish scene.

Kelvin exhaled sharply, running a hand through his tousled hair like he was annoyed by my presence. “You’re such a child, Jane. So easy to fool. So desperate to believe in fairy tales.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” My voice cracked.

He stood, unashamed and unbothered. “She’s not my sister. Never was.” He motioned toward Daphne, who still kept her head down. “She’s my wife. My real wife. We’ve been together since college. You were just the money.”

My body stiffened. “Wife?”

“Oh please,” he scoffed. “Don’t act surprised. You never questioned how conveniently she moved in, or how often we traveled together without you. You thought you were the center of our world, didn’t you? You weren’t. You were the bank. The stepping stone. The stupid, naïve investor who thought love was enough.”

“You bastard!” I hissed, lunging toward him, but he pushed me back—hard. My spine hit the wall and I gasped from the impact.

“Touch her again,” he growled, “and I swear, you’ll regret it.”

Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall. “You used me. I loved you with everything I had. I gave you the life you’re flaunting right now. The car you drive, the company you work at—hell, even the house you’re screwing her in! It’s all mine!”

He grinned like the devil himself. “Exactly. And now it’s ours.”

I turned to Daphne. “How could you do this to me? I treated you like a sister. I trusted you!”

She finally lifted her gaze, and what I saw in her eyes wasn’t guilt. It was victory.

“Because you were too easy to beat,” she said coolly. “Always trying to be the perfect wife, the perfect CEO, the perfect everything. It was exhausting to watch.”

I was shaking now. My chest heaving, my throat dry, my hands clenched into trembling fists.

Kelvin moved closer, his voice low and venomous. “You think you’re heartbroken now? Wait till you find out she’s pregnant. My child. The heir to everything you built.”

I felt like I was going to throw up. My knees buckled, and I dropped to the floor, clutching my stomach. The Cartier watch I bought for him tumbled from my purse and shattered across the tiles.

“You’re a monster,” I whispered.

He crouched down, smiling. “No, Jane. I’m just smarter than you.”

Jane's POV

I thought I'd seen the worst of it—the betrayal, the lies, the sickening confession—but pain has a way of reinventing itself. It wasn’t over.

Kelvin and Daphne weren’t done with me. They had more venom to spill, more pieces of my soul to tear away and they laughed at me like I was nothing but a stupid joke.

Just as I stood there, bleeding, trembling, humiliated beyond belief, Daphne—clad in nothing but the bedsheet I once picked out for our honeymoon—sauntered over to my vanity like it belonged to her.

Like she owned this life that used to be mine. That was mine.

She opened my drawer, the one where I kept my vitamins, my supplements, all the pills the doctors had told me might help me carry my baby to full term, might give us a child one day—something I had prayed for every single night while he slept soundly beside me, hiding secrets beneath that smug, peaceful face.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice low, barely audible over the storm thundering inside me. “Put those back, Daphne. They’re expensive. They’re—”

She turned around, holding the small white bottle between her fingers, spinning it like a toy. Her eyes gleamed with wicked pleasure.

“Vitamins?” she sneered, then threw her head back and laughed. “Oh Jane, bless your deluded little heart. These aren’t vitamins. They’re abortion pills.”

The words hung in the air like smoke, thick and poisonous, choking me.

“W-what?” My voice cracked. “That’s not— that’s not funny. Stop lying. Those were prescribed—"

Daphne stepped closer, unscrewed the cap, and let the pills fall. Dozens of tiny white tablets scattered across the marble floor.

“They’re the reason you’ve never had a child, Jane,” she said with a soft, almost mocking pout. “Every time you thought you were pregnant and then suddenly weren’t… Well, now you know. Your dear husband didn’t want your babies, sweetheart. He just wanted your money. So, he replaced your precious supplements with these.”

My knees buckled, and I stumbled against the dresser, clutching the edge for support.

“No. No, that’s not possible. I—he wouldn’t…”

“Oh, but he did.” She smiled like a cat playing with its food. “And judging by how long you’ve been taking them, I doubt you’ll ever carry a child again. Consider your womb retired.”

Something inside me broke.

I screamed and lunged at her, pure rage guiding my body. But Daphne shoved me back, and I crashed hard against the floor.

Pain tore through me like lightning. A warm wetness pooled beneath me, and when I looked down…

Blood. Again. Not again— no, I can't lose this child no! My twelfth miscarriage?

I curled up on the floor as reality hit me. My scream was primal—louder than I’d ever heard my own voice.

My phone buzzed near me, the screen lighting up with notifications. I grabbed it with shaking hands, trying to distract myself from the excruciating pain tearing through my body.

Until I saw the bank alert! Eight hundred million! Gone.

“No, no, no…” I whispered, tapping the screen with trembling fingers. My bloodied palm left smears across the glass.

“The contract fund—where—who did this—?”

Before I could make the call to my account manager, Kelvin’s shadow loomed above me. In one swift motion, he snatched the phone out of my hand.

“Don’t worry about that anymore, Jane,” he said calmly, wiping a nonexistent speck from his shirt. “That money, and every other asset you own? They belong to me now. I’m the CEO of Thorne Tech.”

I blinked up at him in disbelief, the world spinning around me.

“No. No, that’s not possible. I never— I didn’t sign anything—I’ll never give you control of my company! That's the only thing my parents left for me!”

“Oh, but you did,” he said, grinning. “Don’t you remember that night I made you that special dinner? The wine? You were so eager to make love, so desperate to please me, you didn’t even question the papers I slid in front of you. You signed everything away with a kiss.”

My head shook on its own. “You drugged me?”

“Of course I did. What did you think this was? A fairytale?” He leaned closer, his voice sharp. “This was a heist, Jane. You were the prize. And now that we’ve drained you dry, you’re worthless.”

Tears streamed down my face as I sat in a puddle of blood, heartbreak, and loss.

“All these years… four years… were they all fake?” My voice was barely a whisper.

Kelvin smiled coldly. “Everything. From the vows to the sex to those stupid anniversary surprises. You were just the bank. The fool.”

He pulled out a folder and threw it at me.

“Here are your divorce papers and the asset transfer forms. Signed. Sealed. And soon to be delivered.”

I stared down at them, but my vision blurred. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The names, the signatures—they were all there. My entire empire, gone. My legacy, gone. My love, my body, my child—all gone.

“You’re not human,” I whispered. “You’re monsters. Both of you.”

Just then, Kelvin turned to Daphne and kissed her deeply, moaning her name in front of me.

I clutched my stomach and tried to stand, but the pain doubled me over again.

“Security!” Kelvin yelled. “Get this woman out of my house.”

Two guards stormed in and yanked me up by my arms. I screamed, kicked, but I was too weak. Too broken.

As they dragged me down the hallway I once decorated with love, Daphne called out sweetly, “Oh, and Happy anniversary, Jane”

I twisted in their grasp and looked over my shoulder, locking eyes with Kelvin one last time, my voice was hoarse but I meant every word.

“You'll regret this! I swear on everything you stole from me! You'll pay! I'll rise from this and when I do, you'll both burn!”

Jane's POV

The sound of the door slamming open jolted me awake, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and paper.

Robert's voice cut through the silence like a blade, sharp and unforgiving.

“Get up right now!” he barked, his words vibrating through the office, making the walls themselves feel like they were trembling.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to push away the fog of sleep that had clouded my mind.

I was still reeling from the stress of the last few weeks—working late nights, running on barely any sleep. But nothing could prepare me for what was coming.

There he was. Robert Smith, my annoying boss, The first son of the Smith family. A man whose name was synonymous with power, wealth, and fear.

His recent divorce had made headlines everywhere, with his ex-model wife airing their dirty laundry on live TV.

The scandal nearly destroyed his reputation, but it had only made him more unbearable.

He was a walking storm now. Always angry. Always on edge. Nothing pleased him.

His towering frame loomed over me like a shadow, and his cold, gray eyes burned with contempt. His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it might snap.

Without warning, he slammed his fist onto the desk with a force that made the papers jump, sending a jolt through my body. The sound was deafening.

“I don’t pay you to sleep, Jane!” His voice was laced with disgust. “You’re here to work, not to laze around like some damn teenager who hasn’t learned a thing about responsibility!”

I jumped to my feet, my heart hammering in my chest, blood rushing to my ears. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry!” I stammered, my voice weak, panic flooding my every word. “I didn’t mean—”

“Didn’t mean to?” He scoffed, his lip curling into a sneer. He looked me up and down like I was the dirt on the bottom of his expensive shoes.

“What exactly do you think you're here for, Jane? A little nap on company time? You look like you’ve been wearing the same outfit for a week. Didn’t you think about putting yourself together for once?” His eyes flicked over my clothes—simple, a bit wrinkled—and he scoffed again.

“Look at you. You’ve got no sense of style, no sense of class. You might as well have walked out of a thrift store. What a joke.”

The humiliation hit me like a slap to the face.

My chest tightened, and I felt my cheeks burn. I wasn’t even sure if I was more embarrassed by his words or the crushing weight of his gaze. He had a way of making me feel like nothing—like I didn’t even matter.

I blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill. I couldn’t let him see me cry. Not in front of him.

“Do you think I’m here to babysit you?” Robert continued, his voice dripping with mockery. “I’m wasting my time and my salary on someone who can’t even do the simplest of tasks.”

His words hit me hard, each one digging into the already fragile walls of my self-esteem.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but no words came out. He didn’t care what I had to say. Robert never cared.

“Where are the documents I asked for?” His voice was colder now, the irritation turning to pure disdain. “The ones for the Blackstone contract? I need them now.”

My heart skipped a beat. I had worked on them overnight, scrambling to get them ready in time, but they weren’t perfect. Not by Robert’s standards.

I fumbled through the papers on my desk, hands shaking as I tried to find the right folder. My fingers were clumsy, but I finally managed to grab it and push it towards him.

“Here, sir. I—I worked on them all night,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, praying it would be enough to satisfy him. My hands were clammy, the papers sticking to my fingers as I handed them over.

Robert didn’t even look at me as he snatched the file from my hands. He flipped through the documents, his eyes scanning each page with a cold, clinical detachment.

I waited, my breath caught in my throat, my nerves twisting like a knot.

He didn’t speak for a long time. But when he did, it was with the kind of venom that could melt steel.

“This is rubbish,” he said, his voice a low growl.

“This is what I get after all your whining and excuses? You’re telling me you’ve spent the whole night working on this? It looks like something a first-year student would hand in. You wasted your time going to university? You’d have been better off learning how to clean gutters instead of wasting years and money on a degree. This is absolute trash.”

He shoved the papers into the trash can with a flick of his wrist, as if they were nothing more than garbage.

“I’ve been paying you, what, for this? For nothing?” He sneered. “It’s pathetic. You’ve wasted my time and my money—again.” He glared at me like I was the one who had ruined his life.

I stood frozen, my heart sinking. The tears I’d been fighting so hard to hold back finally broke free, hot and painful, streaming down my face.

I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t.

“Please, sir,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I... I can fix it. I’ll redo it. Please don’t fire me.”

Robert’s face remained stone-cold, his expression hardening with each word I spoke.

“Fire you? You’ve already fired yourself,” he said, his words like a death sentence. “You’re a waste of space, Jane. I’m done with you. Clean out your desk. You’re fired.”