My chest tightened so hard it hurt.

So this was for Ingrid. Because she acted weak, because she played the victim, because she almost got “hurt” at that dinner… he wanted me to feel it too.

He really loved her that much?

One of them crouched down, his hand reaching toward my clothes, rough fingers brushing against my skin. I froze, my body going cold.

Then suddenly—

Police sirens.

Loud. Sharp. Getting closer.

“Hey! Stop right there!” someone shouted from a distance. “I already called the cops!”

The men cursed under their breath.

“Shit, let’s go!”

They scattered immediately, running off into the darkness without even looking back.

Just like that, they were gone.

I lay there, soaked, trembling, staring up at the night sky. My mind was blank. Empty.

Then something inside me cracked.

I started crying.

Everything I held in just poured out all at once. My chest hurt so bad I could barely breathe. Even then, my body kept retching.

It took a long time before I could move again.

I pushed myself up slowly and walked home.

Bernard didn’t come back that night.

Or the next.

...

A whole week passed, and we didn’t talk once. No calls. No messages. It was just silence, cold and distant, like we were strangers sharing the same name.

But I still knew where he was.

Ingrid made sure of that.

Every day, she posted pictures. Dinner under candlelight. A private movie theater just for the two of them. Fireworks lit up the sky while she stood beside him, smiling. Every post was different, but the message was the same.

He was with her. Always with her.

He gave her everything. Designer bags, jewelry, a house, even one of his black cards with no limit. The kind of treatment I never even got as his wife.

I stayed home.

I didn’t go out. I didn’t call anyone.

If I was leaving, then everything tied to me should disappear too.

On the first day, she posted photos of them together. Smiling. Close. Intimate.

I went to the storage room and took out all the albums. Every memory we ever kept. I burned them all.

I watched them turn to ash, one by one, until there was nothing left.

…

The next day, she posted a video of them baking together. Flour on their hands, laughing, feeding each other like they were the only two people in the world.

I stood in the living room for a long time, staring at it. Then I walked to the wine cabinet. Bottles he had collected for years. Expensive, rare, things he once said he was saving for special days with me.

I took one down.

And smashed it on the floor.

Then another.

And another.

Glass shattered everywhere, the smell of wine spreading through the air. I didn’t stop until my hands were shaking and the floor was a mess of broken pieces.

On the seventh day, she posted a video again. Bernard confessed to her, vand she smiled shyly before slipping off the ring on her finger.

I looked down at my own hand.

The diamond was still there. Shining under the light.

Once, I thought it meant something.

I stared at it for a long time. Then I walked to the bathroom, took it off, and dropped it into the toilet.

...

That night, Bernard came back.

It was already late when the bed dipped beside me. His arm reached around my waist out of habit.

“Wife,” he muttered, voice low and a little tired. “Let’s stop this cold war, alright? I’m not in the mood for this shit anymore. Tomorrow’s the company’s tenth anniversary. Come with me. We’ll show up together.”

Our eighth wedding anniversary.

Funny, right? It used to mean everything to me. Every year, I planned it myself. Every detail. Every smile.

This year would be the last.

I moved slightly, closer to the edge of the bed, just out of his reach.

“Mm,” I answered softly.

His hand paused in the air. Missed me.

For a second, he didn’t move. Then he let out a quiet breath. Probably thought I was still angry.

I felt him settle back.

He must’ve remembered the “gift” he prepared. Something to make me happy again. That always worked before.

It didn’t take long before his breathing evened out.

He fell asleep.

I stayed awake.

The next day, the anniversary event was held in one of his private estates. A huge garden, lights everywhere, a pool at the center reflecting everything like a mirror. People in suits and dresses, laughter, music, deals hidden under smiles.

Perfect.

Too perfect.

The big screen lit up. It started with the company’s history. Growth. Power. Blood behind success that no one talked about.

Then it switched to us.

Ten years of “love.”

Photos, videos, memories. Us standing side by side, smiling, holding hands, facing everything together.

People around us started whispering. Admiring. Envious.

I felt his gaze on me. When I looked up, his expression had softened a little. Almost… warm.

Then everything changed.

The screen flickered.

And suddenly, it was her.

Dozens of photos. Bernard and Ingrid. Close. Intimate. Some taken in places I didn’t even recognize. Some of her alone, private, exposed in ways that made people gasp.

The entire place exploded into noise.

Everyone started talking at once. Eyes turned to me instantly. Of course. Who else would do something like this? The wife exposing the mistress.

Bernard’s face darkened. His eyes went cold again.

“Naomi,” he snapped, “What the hell is this? You think this is funny?”

I shook my head immediately. “I didn’t do this.”

Before I could say more, Ingrid ran up to us, tears already falling.

“Mrs. MacAllister,” she cried, “Mr. MacAllister and I… we never crossed that line. Why would you do this to me? Why would you ruin me like this?”

“I didn’t,” I said, my voice coming out weaker than I wanted.

She grabbed Bernard’s arm, holding on tight. “Mr. MacAllister, I can’t stay anymore. If I stay, people will keep talking. I’ll resign. I’ll leave. I don’t want to destroy your marriage.”

Then she turned and ran off, crying.

Bernard’s body tensed. Panic flashed across his face. He moved to go after her, but I grabbed his hand.

“I didn’t do it,” I said again, looking straight at him. “You have to believe me this time.”

He didn’t.

He shook my hand off hard. I stumbled back, my heel slipping. My body crashed straight into the champagne tower behind me.

Glass shattered.

Liquid spilled everywhere.

I fell to the ground, pain shooting through me as sharp edges cut into my skin.

He didn’t even look.

“You’re really getting out of hand,” he said coldly. “Following people, taking pictures, spreading shit like this. What won’t you do anymore?”

“I didn’t…”

“I was gonna make it up to you,” he cut me off, irritation clear in his voice. “Thought you were just throwing a tantrum. But you? You crossed the line.”

Then he pulled something out.

An emerald necklace.

My breath stopped.

That necklace… it was my family’s. Passed down for generations. I sold it years ago to save his company. I never got it back and now it was in his hand.

For a second, hope flickered.

Then he threw it.

Straight into the pool.

“No—!” I shouted, my voice breaking.

But he was already turning away.

“Stay here and clean up your mess,” he said without even looking back. “I don’t have time for this.”

And then he left.

Chasing after her.

I pushed myself up, ignoring the pain, and ran to the edge of the pool. The water rippled where the necklace disappeared.

Without thinking, I climbed over and jumped in.

Cold water swallowed me whole.

I opened my eyes, searching, my chest burning as I dove deeper and deeper.

I didn’t know how long I’d stayed there. Maybe minutes. Maybe hours. All I knew was… I couldn’t let it go.

…

The moment I found the necklace, my body was already at its limit. The cuts on my skin burned when the pool water soaked into them, the pain sharp and constant, but I still held on. I clenched my teeth and kept searching until my fingers finally closed around it.

When I climbed out, I was shaking so hard I could barely stand. I dragged myself to the edge, pulled myself up, and collapsed on the ground, gasping for air.

The necklace was still in my hand.

I tightened my grip on it, water dripping from my fingers. Memories hit me all at once. The day I pawned it. The way he held my hand and promised me he’d take care of me for the rest of my life. That he’d only love me.

What a joke.

A broken laugh slipped out of my mouth.

I kept laughing, but tears came out at the same time. My chest hurt so much I couldn’t breathe properly.

When I got home, I fell sick.

High fever. My whole body felt heavy, weak. Even getting up to pour water felt impossible. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, half-conscious.

Then the door opened.

Bernard was back.

Before I could even react, he grabbed my arm and pulled me up.

“Get up,” he said coldly. “You’re coming with me.”

I thought… maybe he noticed. Maybe he saw I was sick. Maybe he was taking me to the hospital.

So I didn’t resist. I followed him.

But halfway through the drive, something felt wrong.

“Bernard,” I said weakly, holding onto the seat. “This isn’t the way to the hospital. Where are we going?”

He let out a short, annoyed laugh. “Hospital? You’ve got some nerve. You haven’t even cleaned up your mess and you’re thinking about a hospital?”

My mind was slow. Foggy. I didn’t understand.

Not until the car stopped.

A bridge.

High. Dark. Cars passing below, lights flashing.

And at the edge… Ingrid stood there.

My heart dropped.

Bernard dragged me out of the car and pulled me forward. The wind was strong, cold against my face. Ingrid saw us and stepped back, panic on her face.

“Don’t come any closer!” she cried.

“Ingrid, stop this,” Bernard said quickly, his voice tense for the first time. “Don’t do anything stupid. I brought her here. Naomi’s here to apologize. She’ll clear everything up online. No one’s going to hurt you.”

Apologize?

I froze.

“No,” I said immediately, “I’m not apologizing. Why should I? I didn’t do anything.”

They were the ones who cheated. They were the ones who humiliated me. Why should I be the one begging?

Ingrid lowered her head, her shoulders shaking. “Of course you don’t need to apologize. I’m just… worthless anyway. Everyone’s laughing at me now. Maybe it’s better if I just die.”

Bernard’s face changed instantly. “Don’t say that!”

He turned to me, anger flashing in his eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you?! It’s just an apology. You really can’t do that?”

My chest tightened.

“Bernard,” I said, my voice trembling despite myself. “Ten years. We’ve been together for ten years. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

I wasn’t just asking for myself. I was asking for the one who already died once. The one who loved him until the very end.

He paused.

Just for a second.

Then his expression went cold again. “Are you going to apologize or not?”

So that was my answer.

I had no choice.

A tear slipped down my face. I clenched my teeth. “Fine. I’m sorry. Miss Ingrid, I’m sorry. I’ll fix it right now.”

My hands shook as I took out my phone and posted a public statement. Clearing her name. Taking all the blame.

When I finished, he didn’t even look at me.

He walked straight to her, “Ingrid, you hear that? It’s done. Come down now, don’t scare me like that again.”

Then he reached out and pulled her into his arms.

Careful. Gentle.

I stood there, watching. My chest felt empty.

I pushed myself up slowly, using the railing for support.

Ingrid walked over to me, still holding Bernard’s hand. She reached out and grabbed mine.

“Mrs. MacAllister,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

Her grip tightened.

Then she leaned closer, her voice dropping so only I could hear.

“As a woman, don’t you think you’re pathetic?”

My head snapped up. Anger rushed through me. I tried to pull my hand away.

But she held on tighter then she dragged me back with her.

“Ah!” she suddenly screamed.

My foot slipped and the world tilted.

Everything happened too fast.

Bernard rushed forward, reaching out. His hand caught hers.

Only hers.

Not mine.

For a second, our eyes met.

Then I fell.

The wind roared in my ears. Lights blurred. My mind went blank, then flooded with memories. Every moment. Every promise. Every lie.

In the end…

He chose her.

My body hit something hard below.

A black SUV passing under the bridge.

The impact knocked the air out of me instantly. Pain exploded through my entire body, sharp and unbearable.

Then everything went dark.

...

When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital.

So I didn’t die.

The fall wasn’t as high as it felt. The bridge wasn’t that tall, and I hit the roof of the SUV before rolling onto the ground. Lucky, they said. If you could call this lucky.

Three ribs broken. Every breath felt like something stabbing into my chest.

“Honey, you’re finally awake.”

Bernard rushed over the moment he saw me. He looked tired, eyes slightly red, like he hadn’t slept properly.

“For a second I thought…” he stopped, then let out a breath. “Good. You’re fine now. Ingrid’s been blaming herself this whole time. She couldn’t even eat, and said she felt guilty seeing you like that.”

I stared at him.

So that’s where he’d been. Taking care of her.

I slowly pulled my hand away from him. “With you around her all the time, I’m sure she’ll live a long life,” I said quietly.

His expression darkened. “Do you have to talk like that?”

I didn’t answer.

“Ingrid works under me,” he continued, his tone turning colder. “She’s alone in this city, no one to rely on. Of course I’m going to look after her. And don’t forget, if it wasn’t for you, she wouldn’t have ended up like this.”

There it was again.

My fault. Always my fault.

I closed my eyes. I didn’t have the strength to argue anymore. What was the point? He already chose who to believe.

His phone rang.

He glanced at the screen and picked up immediately, his voice softening. “Ingrid? What’s wrong?”

“I’m scared of being alone,” her voice came through faintly.

“I’m coming back now,” he said right away. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon.”

He stood up without hesitation. Then he paused, as if remembering I was still there.

“Naomi,” he said, letting out a breath. “You’ve got me, you’ve got the best doctors. But Ingrid has nothing. Stop picking on her all the time.”

Then he left.

Just like that.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling.

He said I had him. But didn’t I already lose him a long time ago?

The next few days, he didn’t come back. Not once.

And this time, I didn’t care.

I just listened to the doctor, took my medicine, and focused on getting better. Slowly, painfully, I healed.

When I was finally discharged, I didn’t even get to go home first. I was called straight back to the company.

A meeting.

The atmosphere in the room was tense.

Ingrid stood in the middle, eyes red, looking like she’d been crying for hours.

“I really didn’t mean to,” she said softly, her voice trembling.

No one bought it.

The board members were furious. Accusing her one after another. Saying she leaked confidential information to a business partner. Saying she crossed a line no one should ever cross.

“Enough,” Bernard said suddenly, his voice cold and firm.

The room went quiet.

“I believe she didn’t do it on purpose,” he continued. “And even if she did, it’s not your call to deal with her.”

People frowned. Someone spoke up. “Mr. MacAllister, this isn’t something we can ignore. She has to be removed.”

Bernard didn’t even hesitate.

“I’ve already transferred thirty five percent of my shares to Ingrid,” he said. “She’s a shareholder now. Not an employee. No one here has the authority to fire her.”

My mind went blank.

Thirty five percent.

Do you know how long it took me to get that? Ten years. Ten years of working beside him, building everything from nothing. And she got the same amount… in less than a month.

Just because he wanted to protect her.

He once told me the company would always belong to the two of us.

Now there were three.

Just like our marriage.

I lowered my eyes and let out a quiet laugh. It sounded calm, but my nails were digging deep into my palm, so hard it almost hurt more than my ribs.

No one dared to argue anymore. With him backing her, the board had no choice. One by one, they left, frustrated but silent.

I stood up too. I didn’t want to stay there any longer.

Right then, the door opened.

Two police officers walked in.

“Good afternoon,” one of them said, his gaze sweeping across the room. “We received a report about stolen and leaked trade secrets. The name Ingrid was mentioned. Is she here?”

The room went completely still.

Ingrid hid behind Bernard, wiggling her finger at him like she wanted help.

Bernard just stared for a long moment. Then he finally said, “It wasn’t her.”

All eyes turned to him.

“We looked into it ourselves,” he continued, voice low but sharp. “It wasn’t Ingrid who did it. The real mastermind… was you, Naomi.”

He pointed straight at me.

“What did you say?” My voice trembled. “Say it again. Who?”

He stepped closer and grabbed my hand, his grip firm, heavy, like I couldn’t pull away. “If Ingrid had a record, she’d be done in this city, done in this industry. But you, you’ve got me. I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life. Don’t worry, I’ll get you out.”

Then he turned and handed a USB to the police, saying nothing else, just calm and businesslike. “This is the evidence. Naomi did it.”

My blood ran cold, and a chill shot from my feet to my chest.

He even made fake evidence. No way out.

I jerked my hand away and glared at him, tears stinging my eyes. Ten years ago he swore he’d love and protect me for life. And this… this is what that meant?

I felt utterly pathetic.

At the station, I tried to explain. Again and again. I told them I didn’t do it, that it was all fake, that he set me up. They didn’t care. They looked at me with that same expression. Doubt. Annoyance. Then the lawyer came in. Said I was unstable. Said I was under too much stress. That I wasn’t in the right state of mind to even understand what I was saying.

“Miss Naomi needs evaluation,” he said calmly. “She’s showing signs of emotional instability. It’s better if she receives treatment.”

Treatment? I wanted to laugh. Before I could argue, they already made the decision. I wasn’t sent to jail. I was sent somewhere worse. A private mental institution. High walls. Locked doors. White everywhere. Too clean. Too quiet. The moment I stepped in, I knew something was wrong. The nurses looked at me without warmth. The doctors didn’t ask questions. They just wrote things down.

“The patient shows resistance,” one of them said.

“I’m not sick,” I told them, my voice hoarse. “You’re making a mistake.”

They didn’t listen. They strapped me down. The first day, they injected something into my arm. I felt my body go heavy, my mind slow, like I was sinking into something I couldn’t escape. The second day, they kept me awake. Lights on. Questions repeated over and over.

“Did you do it?”

“Admit it.”

“Why won’t you cooperate?”

I said no. Every time. They didn’t like that. The third day… they changed methods. Cold water. They held my head down, forcing me to stay under just long enough to panic, then pulling me back up before I passed out. Again and again until I couldn’t even think straight.

“See?” one of them said calmly. “She’s still resisting.”

By the third day, I couldn’t even tell what was real. My hands shook, my chest burned, and every step felt like walking through a nightmare

Those three days in that place felt worse than death. By the time they let me out, my mind was empty and slow. I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t even tell what was real anymore.

I didn’t realize the car I got into wasn’t safe. The lawyer who said Bernard sent him… he wasn’t Bernard’s man at all.

Everything was a setup.

Bernard pushed someone too far this time. Forced a partner into a corner, crushed his business, left him with nothing. So now he was fighting back.

And I got dragged into it.

So did Ingrid.

The car drove for a long time. No one spoke. My head leaned against the window, eyes half-closed, until it finally stopped. Hands grabbed me again, rough, impatient, dragging me out.

The smell of the sea hit me first.

Then I saw him.

“Sandro…?” My voice came out weak. My chest tightened. “President Moore… you don’t have to do this. We can talk this out. There’s still a way to fix this.”

He looked at me and laughed, but there was no humor in it. Just anger.

“Talk?” he sneered. “If talking worked, your man wouldn’t have destroyed everything I built. He backed me into a corner, Naomi. You think I’ve got anything left to lose?”

My heart sank.

“You people started this,” he continued, eyes burning. “You leaked secrets, crushed my company, and now you want me to sit down and talk? No. If I’m going down, I’m taking all of you with me.”

He pulled out his phone and dialed.

“Bernard,” he said the moment the call connected. “Both your women are with me. You’ve got one hour. Bring five hundred million in cash. If you don’t… I’ll burn one alive and drown the other.”