The following morning, I arrived at Voss Corporation’s headquarters looking nothing like a woman recovering from illness. I had dressed myself as if I were stepping into war, not work.

A sharply tailored white suit clung to my frame, the kind of luxury fabric that cost more than what Raven earned in a year. My hair had been professionally styled, smooth and perfectly set, and my makeup was immaculate—carefully done to conceal the fatigue under my eyes and the hollowed exhaustion that still lingered beneath my skin. I looked composed, refined, untouchable. The perfect image of Mrs. Voss. The loyal, elegant wife everyone expected to see.

“Good morning, Mrs. Amara,” the receptionist greeted me brightly, her eyes widening slightly as I passed.

“Good morning,” I replied with a soft smile, gentle and controlled, the kind that revealed nothing at all.

Without wasting time, I made my way directly to the boardroom. As a major shareholder, I technically had my own office in the building, though I rarely ever used it. Today was different. Today, I intended to make use of every advantage I had.

It didn’t take long before I requested Raven be sent to me.

She arrived minutes later, hesitating at the doorway before stepping inside. There was something carefully calculated about her appearance—her skirt tight, her blouse adjusted to emphasize what she clearly thought mattered more than professionalism. It wasn’t work she was dressed for. It was attention.

“You called for me, Mrs. Amara?” she asked, her tone edged with barely disguised defiance.

“Yes, Raven,” I said without looking up from the papers I pretended to be reviewing. “Bring me coffee. A specific one. From the café at Fifth and Main.”

She blinked in disbelief. “Fifth and Main? That’s quite far. We have coffee here in the office.”

“I don’t drink machine coffee,” I replied calmly, finally lifting my gaze to meet hers. A faint smile curved my lips. “And since you’re supposedly the most dependable secretary here, I’m sure a simple errand won’t be a problem. Or should I call Nathaniel and ask him whether his secretary is incapable of basic tasks?”

Her expression tightened immediately. She understood the implication perfectly.

“Of course not,” she said after a pause, forcing the words through gritted teeth. “I’ll get it.”

That was only the beginning.

When she returned later, slightly breathless from the trip, I took a single sip before setting the cup down with a disappointed expression.

“It’s already cold,” I said lightly. “Go back and get another one. Run this time.”

For the next several hours, I kept her moving without pause. I made her reorganize entire filing systems repeatedly, first by color, then by date, then again by color because I claimed I had “changed my mind.” I sent her out to purchase a pen I already knew was out of stock. I even had her stand by the photocopier for nearly an hour, copying blank sheets just to “check the toner consistency.”

By midday, her polished appearance was gone. Her hair had loosened, her makeup smudged, and the confident facade she carried earlier was starting to fall apart.

She entered my office again carrying another cup of coffee, her hands trembling slightly from frustration.

“There,” she said sharply, placing it down with too much force. The liquid spilled over the rim, staining the clean surface of my desk.

“Oops,” she added, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I stared at the mess, then slowly lifted my eyes to her.

“You really think you can do that?” I asked quietly. “Do you forget your place so easily?”

Her lips curled.

“I’m a secretary you can’t simply fire,” she snapped back, leaning forward as if she owned the space. “You act like you’re untouchable, Amara, but you’re just a decorative wife. A trophy. I, on the other hand, am useful. Nathaniel depends on me. The company depends on me.”

She straightened, crossing her arms as though she had won something.

“I don’t usually interfere in other people’s relationships,” she added coldly, “but if someone insists on involving me… then I won’t step aside either.”

I stood slowly.

Without a word, I walked around the desk toward her. She didn’t move. If anything, she looked almost pleased with herself, as if she believed she was safe.

The sound came before she could react—my hand striking her cheek echoed sharply across the room.

She staggered back, shock spreading across her face as her hand flew instinctively to her skin.

“I don’t care how you try to justify yourself,” I said evenly, my voice low but cutting. “Or how you deceive yourself at night to feel better. Remember this clearly—I am his wife. And you are nothing more than a mistake he keeps around.”

I didn’t wait for a response. I simply turned and left, leaving her standing there frozen, humiliated in the silence.

Later that day, as I was preparing to leave the building, voices drifted from the emergency stairwell. They were sharp, panicked, and unmistakably familiar.

“She humiliated me! She embarrassed me in front of everyone!”

It was Raven.

I stopped just outside the door, pressing myself quietly against the wall.

“I can’t do this anymore, Nathaniel!” she cried out. “I won’t stay like this! I refuse to be your mistress! Either you marry me properly, or you’ll never see your child—I’m pregnant!”

The words hit the air like a shockwave.

My breath faltered for a second.

“Calm down,” Nathaniel’s voice followed, strained and tense. “Raven, please. This isn’t the place for this.”

“Then when?” she shouted back. “When will you finally get rid of her?”

“Just wait until the merger is done,” he said quickly, lowering his voice. “Two days. That’s all I need. Once the contracts are signed and everything is secured… we can handle her.”

My body went still.

“We’ll make it look like an accident,” he continued, almost calmly now, as if discussing routine paperwork. “A relapse, maybe complications from dengue… or even a car accident. It doesn’t matter. What matters is her shares. After that, she’s no longer a problem. And then we’ll be free—you, me, and the baby.”

For a moment, I almost laughed.

It was absurd. Almost laughable how easily they spoke about ending a life like it was nothing more than an inconvenience.

I straightened, smoothing my skirt as something cold settled over me.

So that was their plan.

I pushed the door open.

They separated instantly. Raven quickly wiped her face, while Nathaniel looked up at me too fast, his expression tightening in panic.

“Oh,” I said lightly, pretending surprise. “There you are. I was actually looking for you, Nathaniel.”

My gaze shifted between them, lingering briefly on Raven’s tear-stained face.

“Did I interrupt something?” I asked gently. “Raven looks upset. Did I overwork her today?”

Nathaniel swallowed hard.

“No,” he said quickly. “Nothing serious. She’s just… not feeling well. Hormones, maybe.”

He let out a forced laugh.

Then he stepped closer to me, softening his tone immediately.

“Actually, Amara,” he continued, “Raven wanted to apologize. About earlier. The coffee… everything.”

He turned toward her, his expression shifting into something colder.

“Isn’t that right, Raven?”

It wasn’t a question. It was a warning.

Raven looked at me with open resentment, her jaw tightening, but when she glanced at Nathaniel, something in her broke. She lowered her gaze.

“I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “It won’t happen again. I understand… you’re the wife.”

“Good,” I replied simply.

No reassurance. No warmth. Just acknowledgment.

Nathaniel exhaled like a man finally released from pressure. He stepped closer and slipped an arm around my waist, smiling again as if nothing had happened.

“See?” he said lightly. “Everything’s fine now. Actually… I was thinking, honey…”

He searched my face carefully.

“After the merger, what if we take a trip? Just the two of us. A proper honeymoon. We can try for a baby again.”

I looked at him for a long moment.

Then I smiled softly.

“Alright,” I said. “That sounds nice.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

I closed my eyes.

And in my mind, I began counting down the days until the moment he would realize I was already gone.

The morning of the merger arrived beneath a dull, heavy sky, clouds stretched across it like a warning no one wanted to read. To me, it felt appropRavente—almost fitting.

I stayed in bed long after Nathaniel had gotten ready, pulling the blanket up to my chin and letting my body tremble in exaggerated weakness.

“Amara, enough,” he said sharply, already dressed in a perfectly tailored navy suit. He kept glancing at his watch, his patience thinning with every passing second. “We need to leave in an hour. The investors are already expecting us.”

“I… I really can’t,” I murmured, curling slightly as if in pain, one hand pressed to my abdomen. “I feel awful, Nathaniel. I think the dengue might be coming back. I’m dizzy… I can’t even sit up properly.”

He let out a frustrated sound and threw his hands up.

“Seriously? Today of all days?” he snapped. “You choose today to collapse?”

He began pacing the room, fingers dragging through his carefully styled hair, unraveling his composure.

“This is the most important day of everything we’ve built—everything I’ve built—and you’re lying there like this. Why can’t you just pull yourself together?”

His voice was rising when the door suddenly creaked open.

“Is there a problem?”

Julian stood at the doorway, steady despite the cane in his hand, his sharp gaze immediately taking in the situation.

In an instant, Nathaniel changed. The irritation vanished, replaced by concern so quick it looked rehearsed. He rushed to the bedside and sat beside me, gently brushing my hair back as though he had been worried all along.

“Grandfather,” he said softly, his voice thick with fabricated worry. “Amara isn’t feeling well. She’s been dizzy all morning. I’m really concerned about her.”

“I’m so sorry, Grandpa,” I added weakly, letting my voice tremble. “I really wanted to attend today.”

Julian frowned and stepped closer, placing his palm on my forehead.

“She’s burning up,” he said firmly. Then he looked at Nathaniel. “She’s staying here. Her health comes first. You can handle the signing without her, can’t you?”

Nathaniel hesitated, panic flashing briefly in his eyes before he forced a response.

“I… her signature is required for the final transfer of shares,” he said quickly. “But maybe… we can bring the documents here instead?”

“No,” Julian replied immediately. “That won’t work. The investors want it done at the office. We’ll postpone if necessary. I’ll handle them.”

He gave Nathaniel a pointed look. “Take care of your wife.”

“Yes, of course,” Nathaniel answered at once.

He left hurriedly and returned about ten minutes later carrying a tray.

“Here,” he said, forcing a small smile as he set it down. “I brought you something to eat. Your favorite—shrimp bisque.”

I stared at the bowl. The pale, creamy soup swirled slowly, almost unsettling in its appearance.

“Shrimp,” I repeated flatly.

“Yes,” he said, lifting the spoon toward me. “You always like this. Eat. You need your strength.”

I turned my face slightly away and pushed the spoon down.

“I’m allergic to shrimp, Nathaniel.”

He froze mid-motion, the spoon hovering in the air.

“What? No, that’s not true. You order this all the time.”

“That’s Raven,” I said quietly. “She’s the one who likes shrimp. The last time I ate it, I went into anaphylactic shock. You left me in the hospital. Don’t you remember?”

A heavy silence settled between us. His eyes moved from the bowl back to me, as if only now realizing there were things about me he had never bothered to know.

“Do you even love me?” I asked softly.

I held his gaze, searching for something real beneath all the noise.

He reacted too quickly.

“Of course I do,” he said, setting the bowl down a little too forcefully. “I just… I’m overwhelmed. I forgot. I’m sorry.”

I smiled then, small and tired, as if something inside me had already accepted the answer long before he gave it.

“Right,” I said gently. “Good to know.”

His phone buzzed again. He looked at it immediately, restless, as though unable to stay still.

“I can’t stay here,” he said abruptly, standing up. “I need to handle something business-related before the meeting. Last-minute issues.”

“Business,” I echoed.

“Yes,” he replied quickly. Then he pointed at me, urgency slipping through his mask. “But you have to be there later. Don’t forget the documents. Everything depends on that signing.”

“I will,” I nodded softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Good.”

He grabbed his jacket and left in a rush.

The moment the door closed, the entire act fell away.

I sat up.

The weakness, the trembling, the illness—it all disappeared as if it had never been there.

My burner phone vibrated beside me.

“It’s done, Miss Amara,” the butler’s gravelly voice reported. “He picked her up. They’re at the OB-GYN clinic on Fourth Street. He hasn’t let go of her hand.”

“Alright,” I said quietly. “Good work.”

Another notification came in right after—a message from Van.

Everything is ready. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the silence settle properly around me.

Nathaniel never came back that night. He only sent a message instructing me to appear at the merger the next day. Later, through the butler, I learned he had spent the evening buying baby clothes with Raven, despite not even knowing the child’s gender yet.

That was all I needed to know.

It made leaving far easier than it should have been.

The next day, I stood on the deck of a private yacht, the wind pulling sharply at my hair as the shoreline faded further behind me. The world I had known was slowly shrinking into the distance.

Ahead of me was a private island in the Maldives.

Van was waiting.

My phone rang just as the sea opened wider around us.

“Hubby” flashed on the screen.

I answered.

“Where are you?!” Nathaniel’s voice came through immediately, loud and frantic. I could hear voices and movement behind him, the chaos of a room full of waiting investors. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago! Everyone is already asking questions. You postponed yesterday and promised today!”

I leaned lightly against the railing, watching the waves break below.

“I’m sorry, Nathaniel,” I said, my tone calm and almost airy. “I don’t think I can make it. I feel a bit… disconnected.”

“Disconnected?” he repeated, incredulous. “What does that even mean? Get in a car right now. I’ll send someone for you.”

“There’s no need,” I replied. “But if you want, you can go home instead.”

“Home?” he echoed. “Why would I go there?”

“Because I already signed the documents,” I said smoothly.

Silence followed.

“You… signed them?” he asked, slower this time.

“Yes,” I lied easily. “Grandpa had them sent over. He said I could sign without attending. They’re on the vanity table. There’s also something else there—consider it a small gift for the merger. Maybe even for an early anniversary. Why don’t you check?”

His tone changed immediately.

“Oh—okay! That’s perfect. I’m coming right now. Twenty minutes, I’ll be there. You’re amazing, Amara. I knew I could trust you.”

“I’ll be waiting,” I said softly. “And Nathaniel… bring me strawberry cake.”

“Got it! I love you!”

“Sure,” I replied. “Goodbye.”

A pause.

Then I added, almost under my breath, “Forever.”

I lowered the phone slowly.

I looked at it one last time.

Then I raised my arm and threw it out as far as I could.

It spun once through the air, catching the sunlight briefly, before disappearing into the deep blue water without a sound.