On our first wedding anniversary, Alex released the collection I had spent three grueling months designing – under Daphne’s name. The applause in the grand ballroom was deafening, a physical wave of sound that made the champagne in my glass tremble. On stage, Alex held her hand as they bowed, their smiles perfectly synchronized, dazzling. They looked like a pair of porcelain lovers atop a wedding cake. And there I stood, buried in the middle of the crowd, wearing the simple gold wedding band he’d slipped onto my finger a year ago. His words from that night whispered in my ear, a quiet, repetitive loop: “Let’s keep us a secret for now, Donna.” It sounded like a cruel joke now. Everyone who knew the truth – or at least, the tiny fraction of our lives he allowed to slip through the cracks – probably expected me to storm the stage. To scream. To claw back what was mine. Instead, a strange, cool sense of relief washed over me. If only he had told me sooner. If I had known he was going to hand my soul to her on a silver platter, I wouldn’t have spent the last week agonizing over my resignation letter. My quiet defection to his rival company wouldn’t have carried even a shred of guilt. … The launch event was a masterclass in corporate glamour. Alex stood at the center of the stage, his deep voice carrying through the microphone with practiced ease. “The Orbit Collection represents a new dawn for Aura Luxe, co-created with the brilliant vision of Ms. Daphne Humbert. Today, we officially present it to the world.” The flashbulbs erupted, a blinding wall of white light. Daphne stood beside him, wearing the bespoke silk dress I had pinned by hand, and the emerald necklace I had spent weeks sketching. She waved to the crowd, her smile sweet and modest. The audience was instantly charmed. “She’s incredibly talented!” a woman near me whispered. “Right? Beautiful, brilliant, and clearly born for this. Some people just have it all.” “And look at the way Alex looks at her. They are absolutely gorgeous together.” I stood just outside the warm glow of the spotlight, listening to the murmurs, my face completely blank. Beside me, two young women in cocktail dresses turned to look me up and down. One of them let out a quiet, disparaging laugh. “Look, isn’t that Alex’s quiet cousin from upstate?” “Oh, her. I heard she practically begged for an internship at Aura Luxe and just refuses to leave.” “She should look in a mirror. Does she really think she can climb her way into his circle like that? Delusional.” Their voices weren’t particularly quiet. They wanted me to hear. I didn’t bother reacting. Over the past year, I had developed a thick skin for this exact brand of cruelty. On stage, a reporter raised a microphone. “Mr. Hans, could you tell us more about your relationship with Ms. Humbert? What drew you to this collaboration?” Alex’s eyes softened, a genuine smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Daphne is someone very dear to me. She has a rare, instinctive gift. I have no doubt she is going to be one of the defining designers of her generation.” A collective, teasing sigh rippled through the crowd. Daphne lowered her head in mock embarrassment, leaning just a fraction closer to his shoulder. I slowly twisted the wedding ring on my finger, turned on my heel, and slipped out into the cool evening air. After the crowd dispersed, Alex tracked me down in the quiet corridor of the backstage dressing rooms. He was loosening his silk tie, his face wearing that familiar expression of faint irritation he reserved only for me. “Why the long face, Donna?” I looked at him, my voice remarkably steady. “That was my collection, Alex.” “Why do we have to draw lines between what’s yours and mine?” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Daphne just got back from Paris. She needs a stunning debut to make a name for herself here. You’re her sister-in-law, Donna. What’s wrong with lending her a hand?” We had been married for a year. To the world, I was the awkward cousin he kept around out of charity. But now, because his old flame needed a pedestal, I was suddenly elevated to the status of a “sister-in-law.” I wanted to laugh, but my throat was too dry. “Alex, I spent ninety-three nights staring at a drafting screen. I went through forty-seven iterations of those designs. And you just gave them to her with a single sentence?” His brow furrowed, his patience clearly thinning. “It’s just a set of drawings. You can always design another. Daphne is different. This is her first major showcase in the city. She can’t afford to fail.” “And I can?” He stayed quiet for a long second, then pulled a sleek black Amex from his wallet and slipped it into my palm. “Go get yourself something nice. Think of it as a little thank-you from me. Just don’t start a scene here. It’s bad for the brand.” It was always this. Money to quiet the noise. I looked down at the cool metal of the card, and my mind drifted back to a night exactly one year ago. He had taken me to a quiet French bistro downtown. He had gone down on one knee, his eyes shining with a tenderness that felt so real it made my chest ache. “Donna, this brand is our baby. You’re the only creative eye I trust. I don’t want our marriage to hide your brilliant mind. Come build this with me. I’ll give you the stage you deserve. And once we’re stable, we’ll tell everyone. I want the world to know you’re my wife, the driving force behind Aura Luxe.” I had been so hopelessly, foolishly moved. For twelve months, I didn’t ask for a single paycheck. I worked through the nights, ignoring the strain in my neck and the dark circles under my eyes, believing I was building our future. But I was never the co-creator. I was just the scaffolding he used to build a stage for his first love. “What are you daydreaming about?” Alex’s voice snapped me back to the cold hallway. “Stop sulking. Daphne is waiting for me at the afterparty. I have to go. Take a cab home.” He turned to leave, but stopped after a few steps, not even turning his head back to look at me. “Oh, and leave the silk dress and the emerald necklace with Daphne. She has a few galas to attend this week, and you rarely wear them anyway. It’s a waste to let them sit in the closet.” My mother’s emeralds. The only piece of her I had left after the cancer took her. I didn’t wear them because they were too precious to lose, but to him, that was a “waste.” I let it go. I didn’t argue. Because I didn’t care anymore. I pulled out my phone and replied to an email from Solstice Group – Aura Luxe’s biggest competitor – sent a week ago. I accept. The next morning, my phone buzzed with Alex’s name. I was in my home studio, packing my sketchbooks into a leather box. “Are you free today?” his voice was brisk, commanding. “I have things to do.” “Clear your schedule.” His tone left no room for negotiation. “Daphne just entered the local circle and doesn’t have anyone she can trust yet. Go be her assistant for a few days. Keep an eye on things so she doesn’t get pushed or taken advantage of.” My hands froze on the edge of the cardboard box. “What did you just say?” “I need you to assist her. She has a magazine editorial shoot today. Just help her carry her wardrobe, grab her coffee, keep things running smoothly.” I took a deep, steadying breath. “Alex, I am a senior designer. I am not a personal assistant.” “I know, I know,” he said, his voice instantly taking on that sharp edge of impatience. “It’s just for a few days until she finds someone permanent. Be reasonable, Donna. Don’t make things difficult for me.” Reasonable. He had used that word to keep our marriage a secret. To make me tolerate his constant late-night “check-ins” on Daphne. To swallow one unfair demand after another. “And if I say no?” The line went quiet for several seconds. When he spoke again, his voice had turned ice-cold. “Don’t act up, Donna. Daphne is fragile. You’re family. I trust you to protect her.” I let out a soft, humorless laugh. “Fine. I’ll go.” When I arrived at the studio, Daphne was already in the makeup chair. Seeing me enter, her eyes lit up with an innocence that felt entirely manufactured. “Donna! You actually came? Alex told me, but I felt so bad. How could I let you act as my assistant?” Her words were dripping with sweet concern, but her eyes held a quiet, triumphant gleam. I said nothing, standing quietly near the wardrobe rack. Once the makeup artist finished, Daphne turned to the mirror, her brow furrowing slightly. “This lipstick color is all wrong. It needs to be the warm nude shade from that boutique on 5th.” Her personal assistant immediately stood up. “I can run and grab it, Ms. Humbert!” Daphne looked past her, her gaze landing squarely on me. She smiled sweetly. “Donna, would you mind? I think you know the exact shade I mean. It’s only a few blocks away.” The entire room – stylists, photographers, interns – turned to look at me. She was testing her boundaries, showing everyone in the room exactly where I stood on the ladder. And under the current circumstances, I had no authority to refuse. “Sure,” I said softly. It was mid-June, and the city heat was oppressive. I walked for twenty minutes under the blazing sun, my shirt sticking to my back, my throat parched. When I finally returned to the air-conditioned studio, drenched in sweat, Daphne took the lipstick, swiped it on the back of her hand, and sighed. “Oh… it’s not the right shade after all. Donna, did you get the wrong one?” The challenge in her eyes was blatant. “Did I?” I replied, my voice completely flat. “I can go exchange it.” “Oh, don’t worry about it!” She grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward the break table. “It’s my fault. I must have remembered the name wrong. Sit down, have some water.” She picked up a tall glass of iced water from the table and went to hand it to me. But her hand “slipped.” The entire glass of ice water splashed directly over the front of my shirt. She gasped, immediately grabbing a handful of rough paper towels and pressing them hard against my collarbone. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I’m so clumsy. Donna, are you okay?” Her hands, heavily coated in residual foundation and makeup from the vanity, smeared across my sensitive skin. Within seconds, my collarbone began to break out in angry, red hives. I grabbed her wrist, stopping her mid-scrub. My grip was firm. “Daphne. You did that on purpose.” She froze, her eyes immediately filling with tears. “Donna, I swear I didn’t… If you’re mad at me, just say so. Don’t think of me like that…” “What is going on here?” Alex’s voice boomed from the entrance of the studio. He marched over, his eyes taking in my soaked, stained shirt, my red skin, and Daphne’s tear-filled eyes. His first instinct, without a second of hesitation, was to pull Daphne behind his shoulder. “Donna, what are you doing? It was just a cup of water. Do you have to be so hostile?” I looked at him, my voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m being hostile?” “Daphne said it was an accident. Can’t you be the bigger person for once? She has a major shoot this afternoon. If you ruin her focus and delay the production, are you going to take responsibility for the cost?” Daphne whimpered behind him, clutching his sleeve. “Alex, don’t blame Donna. It’s my fault. I’m just so clumsy today…” Alex’s expression softened instantly as he turned to her. “It’s not your fault. Go touch up your makeup. Don’t let this ruin your shoot.” Daphne nodded meekly, but as she walked past me toward the vanity, she shot me a slow, smug smile that Alex couldn’t see. Once the dressing room cleared, leaving only the two of us, Alex looked at my wet clothes and scowled. “Go change. Stop making a fool of yourself in front of the crew.” A deep, bone-weary exhaustion settled into my chest. “Alex, I quit.” He blinked, taken aback. “What did you say?” “I’m done. I’m not her assistant, and I’m not yours.” His face darkened, and he lowered his voice so the crew outside wouldn’t hear. “Are you done throwing a tantrum? It was a splash of water. Why do you have to be so incredibly petty? Daphne is practically a child in this industry. Can’t you just let things slide?” Daphne was twenty-six. She was exactly three months younger than me. To him, she was a fragile child to be protected. I was the adult destined to swallow every drop of poison. “Why should I?” He let out a sharp, angry laugh. “Because I’m your husband. Lest you forget, Donna, who was the one begging me to marry them?” A cold chill ran down my spine. It was true. I had spent three years loving him, chasing him, believing his quiet promises until he finally agreed to sign the marriage certificate. Because of that, in his mind, I had volunteered for this misery. I had asked to be his secret door, his quiet sacrifice. “Right,” I said softly. “You’re absolutely right.” Satisfied with my submission, he patted my head, his tone returning to its patronizing warmth. “Good girl. Go home, get changed. I’ll take you out for a nice dinner tonight to make it up to you.” Then he turned and walked back to the set, his attention entirely consumed by Daphne. I stood there in the quiet corner, the cold water seeping into my skin, freezing me from the inside out. Naturally, Alex broke his promise. At seven, my phone lit up with a text: Daphne’s exhausted after the shoot. Taking her out for sushi to celebrate. Eat without me. I stared at the screen for a long time before typing out a single word: Okay. Today was my birthday. I had bought a small cake, hoping we could share it tonight, hoping to tell him that my bags were already packed. Now, there was no point in waiting for the perfect moment. I went home to our quiet, dark apartment. I boiled a pot of water, dropped in some noodles, and added a single egg. As the steam rose, my eyes began to sting, and the tears finally fell, silent and heavy, into the bowl. At 2:00 AM, the front door clicked open. Alex stumbled in, reeking of expensive gin and the distinct, powdery floral perfume Daphne always wore. Seeing me sitting on the living room sofa in the dark, he startled. “Why are you still awake?” “Waiting for you.” He walked over, dropping his keys on the console. “For what? I told you to go to sleep.” “Do you know what day it is today, Alex?” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, his brow furrowing. “What day? The day Daphne’s campaign went live?” I let out a soft laugh. “It’s my birthday.” A brief flash of guilt crossed his face. He cleared his throat, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Oh. Right. I forgot.” “It’s fine. You’ve never remembered anyway.” His guilt instantly morphed into defensive anger. “Don’t start with the passive-aggressive act. I’ve been buried under work. It’s normal to forget things when you’re running a company.” Busy. Busy taking Daphne to dinners, celebrating her minor milestones, making sure her world was perfect. He just didn’t have the space in his mind for me. “Right,” I whispered. “You’re busy.” Perhaps feeling a rare twinge of conscience, he reached into his coat pocket and tossed a small, velvet-wrapped box onto my lap. “Here. Birthday gift. I have a board meeting tomorrow, so I won’t have time to do anything else for you.” I picked up the box and popped the latch. Inside lay a delicate rose-gold tennis bracelet, studded with tiny pink diamonds. I tried to slip it over my hand, but it wouldn’t close. It was far too small. It was Daphne’s size. “For me?” I asked quietly. “Who else? You like pink, don’t you?” I wear black. Since the day I met him, my wardrobe had been almost exclusively black. “Thank you,” I said, closing the box and setting it gently on the coffee table. He looked visibly relieved, checking his watch before turning back toward the door. “Daphne’s apartment building had a power outage, and she’s terrified of the dark. I promised I’d head back over to make sure her backup generators are working. Get some sleep.” Daphne was twenty-six, afraid of the dark. I was twenty-six, sitting alone in a silent house at two in the morning. I wasn’t allowed to be afraid. Because I had chosen this. The front door clicked shut. I unlocked my phone. The top trending topic on social media was already live: #DaphneHumbert: The New Force in Luxury Design. Right below it was another: #AuraLuxePowerCouple. Under the hashtag, Alex had posted a candid photo of Daphne laughing at the dinner table. His caption read: Proud of you, kiddo. @DaphneHumbert. The comments were a frenzy of romantic speculation. “Oh my god, Alex personally posted her! This is practically official!” “Kiddo! That is so sweet! When are they going to announce it? I’m ready to buy wedding gifts!” I scrolled down until I found a lone comment: “Wait, didn’t someone say Alex has a secret wife?” A user immediately replied: “Fake news. There’s zero proof. And even if there is, a divorce is probably coming. Look at how he treats Daphne.” I smiled, locked the screen, and went to bed. The next morning, my assistant, Lucy, called me twelve times in a row. I answered, still half-asleep. “Lucy? What’s wrong?” “Donna, we have a massive crisis! The design files for the new collection – they’ve been leaked online!” I sat up instantly, the blanket sliding down my shoulders. “What?” “Someone leaked the entire drive to the public forums. And our primary competitor has already set up pre-orders using our exact schematics!” I dragged myself to my laptop and pulled up the forums. The designs I had spent six months of my life perfecting were splashed across every design blog on the internet. And because of yesterday’s launch, the public believed they belonged to Daphne Humbert. Daphne had already posted a picture from a hospital bed, a saline drip attached to her hand. Her caption read: It was my responsibility to keep the creative files secure. I failed my team. I am so sorry, everyone. The comment section was overflowing with sympathy. “Daphne is literally hospitalized from the stress! Who would do something so malicious to her?” “Could it be Alex’s ‘cousin’? I saw her glaring at Daphne at the launch event…” “It has to be her! She looked so bitter!” I stared at the screen, my fingers trembling on the keyboard. She had stolen my work, and yet, she was the victim. The front door of my apartment was kicked open with a violent crash. Alex stormed into the bedroom, his eyes bloodshot, his face contorted with rage. He grabbed my wrist, pulling me out of bed. “Donna, did you do this?” I winced at the pressure on my skin. “Let go of me, Alex.” “I asked you a question! Did you leak the files? Because I gave the credits to Daphne, you decided to burn the entire company down just to ruin her? Is that what this is?” I looked directly into his eyes, a strange, chilling calm washing over me. “Why are you so sure it was me?” “Because you’ve been venomous and jealous of her from the very beginning!” He threw my arm back, sending me stumbling against the headboard of the bed. “You don’t have a fraction of her grace. She is kind, she is innocent, and you… you’re just full of spite.” I had loved this man for four years. I had turned down a prestigious graduate fellowship in London for him. I had handed him my career on a silver platter. And in the end, in his eyes, I was just a bitter, venomous woman. “If that’s what you believe,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper, “then we have nothing left to say.” I reached into my nightstand drawer, pulled out a thick envelope, and handed it to him. “What is this?” He glared at the paper, refusing to touch it. “Divorce papers. I’ve already signed them.” He let out a dry, incredulous laugh, stepping closer until he was pressing into my space, pinching my chin between his fingers. “You think threatening me with divorce is going to make me back down? Let me tell you something, Donna – you want out? Not a chance. You are going to go to the hospital, you are going to apologize to Daphne, and then you are going to find whoever leaked those files. If you don’t, I will personally ensure you and your little independent studio are blacklisted from this industry forever.” I pushed his hand away with a cold, deliberate force. “Alex, have you forgotten? Those designs were mine.” I pulled a stack of documents from the bottom drawer and threw them directly at his chest. The papers fluttered through the air, scattering across the hardwood floor. “Those are the original CAD files and the forty-seven revision drafts, all timestamped two months before Daphne ever set foot in my office. Explain to me why I would leak my own life’s work.” The room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. Alex looked down at the documents. His gaze lingered on the dates, the meticulous, handwritten notes in my handwriting, the timestamps on the digital logs. His face froze, the anger draining from his features, leaving him pale. “It… it wasn’t you?” “No,” I said, looking at him with absolute detachment. “And if you had a single brain cell left, you’d know exactly who did it.” His phone suddenly began to blare in his pocket. He pulled it out, his face pale as he listened to the voice on the other end. “Daphne? What do you mean? Don’t do anything foolish. I’m coming right now!” He hung up and bolted for the door. At the threshold, he stopped for a fraction of a second. I expected an apology. Or at least a look of remorse. Instead, he looked at me and said, “Donna, keep this quiet for now. Daphne is in a very fragile state. She can’t handle any more accusations. Just… consider this bad luck. I’ll make it up to you once this blows over.” The door slammed shut behind him. I stood alone in the quiet apartment, and for the first time in four years, I felt like I could breathe. It was over. When Alex arrived at the hospital, Daphne was weeping into her pillows. The moment he walked through the door, she threw herself into his arms. “Alex, I’m so scared. Are they going to ruin me? Are they going to think I’m a fraud?” Alex stroked her hair, his eyes fixed on the blank wall. “No. I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” His phone rang again. It was his operations director. “Mr. Hans, we have a massive problem. The production partners found out about the leak. They are pulling out of the launch!” “What?” “They are demanding we present two entirely new, fully realized design concepts within seventy-two hours, or they will invoke the breach of contract clause. We’ll be liable for a ten-million-dollar penalty!” Alex’s breath hitched. This project had swallowed over half of Aura Luxe’s liquid capital. If the partnership collapsed, the company would face immediate bankruptcy. He forced his voice to remain steady. “Don’t panic. It’s just two concepts. Three days is plenty of time.” The moment he hung up, he dialed my number. The user you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. He dialed again. The user you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. “What is Donna doing?” Alex muttered, slamming his fist against the hospital wall. “How can she turn her phone off at a time like this?” Daphne looked up from his shoulder, her voice small and tentative. “Alex, don’t be angry with her. Maybe Donna is just hurt. I’m sure once she calms down, she’ll come home and help you draw the new designs. She always does.” Alex paused, his tense shoulders relaxing slightly. She was right. For four years, Donna had never said no to him. She would always swallow her pride, come back to the desk, and work until her fingers bled just to make him smile. He let out a cold, confident scoff. “You’re right. She’s nothing without me. She’ll come back.” Daphne lowered her head, a small, dark smile touching her lips. At that exact moment, the door to the hospital room was thrown open. His assistant rushed in, breathless, holding a tablet with a trembling hand. “Mr. Hans, you need to see this! Solstice Group just started a live press conference!” “So what? Why should I care about Solstice right now – ” “They are launching their new line!” the assistant cried. “The concepts are identical to our Orbit Collection, but the execution… it’s flawless. It’s already trending everywhere!” Alex snatched the tablet from his hands. On the screen, a brilliant, high-production launch was taking place. The presenter’s voice was clear and resonant. “And now, please welcome the mastermind behind the Cosmos Collection – our new Executive Creative Director, Donna Galen!”
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “536348”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel
Leave a Reply