Sabrina's POV

I was delivering a lunchbox to my husband at work when I overheard a conversation between him and his boss from Africa.

"So, when do you plan to send your wife over? The general manager position is perfect for you."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Allen! Her period just ended, so no problem—tonight works."

My heart sank. Pretending not to hear a thing, I quietly turned around and took the lunchbox back home.

That evening, we hosted a dinner at our house. My husband, Tyrone Males, was being overly attentive, clinking glasses and buttering up his boss. As the alcohol flowed, he leaned in close to me.

"I owe this promotion to our boss. We have to show our gratitude, sweetheart."

The boss, Mr. Aldrich Allen, loosened his tie, a smug grin on his face.

"Your family has this opportunity all thanks to me," he said casually. "With my help, Tyrone can climb even higher. Now, help me to the bedroom."

I watched Tyrone quietly slip away, and I forced a smile, though my stomach churned.

"Of course," I replied.

——

"Sweetheart, the boss commended my performance and plans to promote me! So, I gave him the lunch you packed for me earlier," Tyrone proudly said, wrapping around my shoulders affectionately.

Smiling, I softly said, "That isn’t enough. I’ll go back and prepare a feast. We should host him properly tonight."

Tyrone nodded, pinching my cheek with exaggerated affection. His eyes glistened with gratitude.

"You’re the best wife in the world, you know that? Once my year-end bonus comes in, I’ll buy you that gold bracelet you’ve been eyeing."

I smiled faintly, my lips curving without warmth. "You’re the backbone of this family. How could a full-time housewife like me not support you?"

His eyes lit up, and his voice rose with excitement. "Marrying you was the luckiest thing to ever happen to me. I’m the happiest man alive!"

Tyrone even knelt in front of me dramatically, gazing at me as if I were his entire world.

We grew up together, childhood sweethearts in every sense. After we got married, he told me he’d face the storms outside while I focused on taking care of our home. I believed him and embraced the role of a full-time housewife. Every month, Tyrone handed me his paycheck, saying, "Spend it however you like, sweetheart. A wife is meant to be cherished and protected."

But everything changed the moment I overheard that conversation at his office.

The man who doted on me, who treated me like a treasure, was secretly offering me up like some bargaining chip.

"Your wife’s cooking is amazing," Mr. Allen said, walking over to Tyrone’s desk with the lunchbox in hand, looking smug. "I envy you—such a considerate wife."

But the way his greedy eyes lingered on me made my stomach churn. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to appear calm.

"Mr. Allen, you’re too kind," I said with a small smile. "It’s just a simple packed lunch. Promoting Tyrone to general manager is already more than we could ever repay."

Mr. Allen waved dismissively. "Oh, it’s nothing. Tyrone earned it himself." Then he added, almost mockingly, "Anyway, I see you two have such a great relationship. If only I could swap places with him."

"Is that so?" I asked, my gaze fixed on Tyrone. For a moment, his smile faltered, his expression betraying a flicker of unease.

The next second, he grabbed my hands and laughed nervously. "Sweetheart, it’s just a joke! You’re the last thing I’d ever give up. Work comes and goes, but you? You’re my whole world!"

Mr. Allen then patted Tyrone's shoulder, his face beaming as he turned to me. "Well, I’ve got other business to attend to. Looking forward to tonight’s dinner!"

As such, Tyrone scrambled to his feet, rushing to open the door for Mr. Allen. As they whispered by the doorway, I caught a glimpse of their lips moving. Though I couldn’t hear their exact words, I had a sinking feeling I already knew what they were discussing.

Sabrina's POV

From afar, I could read Tyrone’s lips saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she’s delivered to your bed.”

Watching the two of them act like brothers reminded me of the many times I had delivered lunchboxes to him at work.

At first, I’d prepare his lunch early in the morning, and he'd bring it along with him to the company and just heat it up there. But then, he started asking me to bring it to his office instead. That was how I met his boss, Mr. Allen.

Back then, I thought Mr. Allen’s constant staring was just a cultural difference, chalking it up to foreign openness and curiosity. But today, I realized how naive I had been.

Tyrone, to get ahead, you’re really planning to hand me over to this man? Fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll play along.

“Sweetheart, Mr. Allen’s very impressed with you,” Tyrone said excitedly. “Tonight, you’ve got to go all out. I’m already halfway into management, and soon, all the wealth and glory will be yours.” He grinned. “Just make sure Mr. Allen is well taken care of tonight.”

Hearing his repeated urging, I calmly agreed, pretending to go along with it.

Thrilled, he pulled out his bank card and handed it to me. “Use it freely! Get some high-end ingredients for dinner tonight.”

I smiled subtly, the kind of smile that concealed too much. Before returning home, I made sure to set everything up exactly as I planned.

Ever since Tyrone started climbing the corporate ladder, Mr. Allen had become a frequent guest at our home. As Tyrone’s position grew higher, their camaraderie only deepened. Even when Tyrone was working late, Mr. Allen would sometimes drop by on his own, always bringing some excuse or token of goodwill.

“Sabrina, your husband’s working late, so he asked me to bring you these little cakes. I heard you like them.”

“Since Tyrone is on a business trip, he was worried about you and asked me to take you out for a nice dinner.”

“The company’s been really stressful lately. But since Tyrone was away, maybe you could come out for a drink with me? I just need someone to talk to.”

I knew exactly what Mr. Allen was after, and I also wanted to see just how far Tyrone would let this go.

If Mr. Allen wanted my company, I would give it. If he needed someone to listen to, I would become all ears.

Tyrone and Mr. Allen must’ve thought I had come to terms with everything because they became bolder and more brazen with their actions.

“Sweetheart, I could smell that delicious cooking from the doorway,” Tyrone said one evening as he walked in with an expensive gift box in hand. Pulling me to the couch, he opened the box and revealed its contents.

“These are for you—a new outfit. Wear it tonight when Mr. Allen comes over.” He smiled proudly. “You’ve always been so beautiful, even since you were little. Tonight, let Mr. Allen see just how elegant you are.”

Inside the box was a revealing lingerie set, the kind I’d never worn even in front of him. My heart sank as I stared at it.

So, this is it, Tyrone. You’re really trying to gift me to him, aren’t you?

“Alright,” I said lightly. “I’ll change into it later.”

His face lit up with barely concealed excitement. He grabbed a few bottles of wine from the cabinet and set them on the table.

“Sweetheart, I even bought Lafite for tonight. I know you don’t like drinking, but tonight’s special. It has to be grand.”

I watched him practically buzz with anticipation, eager to hand me over. I smiled.

My thoughts then drifted to our wedding day. I remembered the toasts, how Tyrone had wrapped his arm protectively around me, declaring with authority, “Sabrina doesn’t drink. Don't insist her to, I’ll just drink on her behalf.”

That night, he drank until his stomach bled. I spent hours at the hospital, crying as I held his hand. He had looked at me through bleary, drunken eyes and whispered, “Sweetheart, I’ll never let you suffer. Not even for a second.”

That same man, who once bound his heart to mine, was now ready to trade me for power and status.

Snapping back to reality, I met his expectant gaze.

Sabrina's POV

“All the expenses at home come from your hard work,” I said coldly. “So, now that you’ve been promoted to general manager, I’ll support you even better. Don’t worry.”

Seeing how “understanding” I was, Tyrone beamed with excitement.

I played along, letting my lips curve upward in a cooperative smile. Then, I picked up the outfit and headed to the master bedroom.

In the dimly lit room, I noticed the pink mood lighting Tyrone had bought ages ago but never used. I couldn’t help but feel the irony as I prepared myself for what was about to happen.

“Wow, Tyrone, I didn’t expect your wife to be so stunning,” Mr. Allen said, his sharp suit perfectly tailored as he stood in the doorway.

His greedy gaze swept over me, lingering on my legs wrapped in sheer black stockings. The longer he stared, the wider his smile grew.

“Oh, come on, boss, cut with the joke,” Tyrone laughed, quickly getting up to usher me to the seat right next to Mr. Allen. His gesture was deliberate, his intentions painfully clear.

“Sweetheart, go ahead and serve our most important benefactor,” Tyrone said with a pointed look.

I swallowed the wave of disgust rising inside me and picked up the serving chopsticks.

But as I reached forward to serve, Mr. Allen’s large, rough hand suddenly extended, brushing against me—no, grabbing me outright.

I froze, pulling away as quickly as I could, my entire body shivering with revulsion.

But then, the sound of crashing dishes filled the room as my hand slipped.

“Oh no! I’m sorry, Sabrina, I got a bit too excited,” Mr. Allen said with a fake laugh, waving off the incident like it was nothing. At the same time, he shot Tyrone a knowing look, raising his brows suggestively.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong with you? You know Mr. Allen’s personality by now—why are you overreacting like this?” Tyrone scolded, his tone dripping with annoyance.

Without giving me a chance to respond, he grabbed a bottle of wine and poured me a full glass.

“Here, drink this and apologize to Mr. Allen. You know it’s a big no-no to act like this in the workplace.”

Both men stared at me expectantly, their eyes practically daring me to refuse. The wine in my glass felt like a ticking time bomb—one that I was sure they’d tampered with.

Tyrone, if I’m right, you’ve drugged this wine, haven’t you?

With that, I lifted the glass, and the moment I did, Mr. Allen’s eyes lit up with anticipation. His carefully laid plan was unfolding exactly as he’d envisioned.

“Boss, I’m so sorry for earlier. Let me punish myself with a drink.”

As I said that, I downed the glass in one go, ignoring the heat building in my stomach. Tyrone clapped his hands in delight.

“Well? How does it taste, sweetheart? Isn’t it great?” he asked, his tone brimming with satisfaction.

I forced a flushed smile, feigning lightheadedness. “Yeah, not bad.”

Just then, Tyrone’s phone buzzed, and after answering, he approached me with a look of mock regret.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, but there’s an urgent issue at work that needs my attention. You know how it is—being a general manager means cleaning up all the messes others leave behind.”

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice as if trying to reassure me. “Take good care of Mr. Allen while I’m gone, okay? I won’t be long.”

The excuse was pathetic, one I would’ve believed in the past. But now, I could see through every word.

The wine—laced with God knows what—was meant to incapacitate me, and once he left, Mr. Allen would have free reign.

Lowering my head, I let my voice sound weak and dazed. “Just me and Mr. Allen at home? Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

Tyrone froze for a moment, his nervousness flashing across his face before he quickly recovered.

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be? Mr. Allen is our family’s benefactor. You should understand how important he is to us.”

Then, with an almost brainwashing tone, he added, “If this were ancient times, we’d both offer ourselves to repay someone like him.”

Listening to his shameless logic, I pretended to sway on my feet, my head lolling as I murmured, “Alright… I’m feeling dizzy. I’ll just go lie down.”

With that, I let my knees buckle, collapsing to the floor as though I’d lost consciousness.

“Sweetheart? Sweetheart!” Tyrone called, shaking me lightly. When I didn’t respond, he stood up and hurried over to Mr. Allen.

“Boss, the drug’s working perfectly. Sabrina is all yours. I’ll head back to the office now.”

The two exchanged a smug, conspiratorial glance before Mr. Allen’s face broke into a grin so wide it was nauseating.

“Don’t worry, leave everything to me. I’ll take good care of her,” Mr. Allen said, his voice dripping with sinister delight. “She’s such a beautiful woman—I’ve been dying to get my hands on her.”