The Beginning of a Nightmare

The Beginning of a Nightmare ## The news of Christopher Gray, CEO of Gray Group, proposing to Evelyn Reed on a global live broadcast had taken the world by storm. As I walked home, I couldn’t avoid the massive billboard across the street showing the two of them locked in an embrace, their kiss frozen in time for everyone to admire. People were envious of Evelyn’s seemingly perfect life. But I knew the truth—if Evelyn ever fell in love with Christopher Gray, it would mark the beginning of her nightmare. Because no matter how much she dreamed, she could never become Mrs. Gray. Her moment in the spotlight would end with this grand proposal, no matter how dazzling it seemed. I had just stepped out of the grocery store with a bag of everyday essentials and a few ingredients for dinner. Cooking had become my way of passing time, a small distraction from the monotony of life. As I lifted my head, the giant screen on the skyscraper across the street caught my eye. Christopher Gray and a young woman were shown in a close embrace, their chemistry practically leaping off the screen. Even through a screen, their gazes lingered on each other, electric and intimate. He was tall, sharp-featured, and impossibly handsome. She was delicate and breathtakingly beautiful. They looked like the perfect couple, a match seemingly made in heaven. I recognized her immediately—Evelyn Reed. By now, everyone knew her name. She seemed to be one of those rare people blessed by the universe itself: stunning good looks, a petite, graceful figure, and eyes that could captivate anyone. It was said that from the moment Christopher Gray first saw her, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Love at first sight, they called it. And from that moment on, he poured his heart and soul into pursuing her. He orchestrated grand romantic gestures—naming his latest jewelry line after her, dedicating new luxury apartment buildings to her, even naming an amusement park after her. Everywhere Evelyn went, there were traces of Christopher Gray’s devotion. Standing on the sidewalk, I overheard two girls sipping bubble tea as they stared at the screen. “I’m so jealous of Evelyn,” one sighed. “Imagine having someone love you that much.” “Forget love,” the other replied. “Do you know how rich Christopher Gray is? That’s the real dream.” “She must’ve saved the entire galaxy in her past life to deserve this,” the first one added wistfully. I lowered my gaze and smiled faintly. If Evelyn didn’t love Christopher, maybe she could enjoy the life he was offering her. But most women would fall for a man like him, especially one who created a world of romance just for them. And Evelyn? An orphan who’d grown up with nothing? She didn’t stand a chance. My phone buzzed, pulling me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the screen: “Hannah, I know who you are.” Two days ago, Evelyn Reed had added me on WhatsApp after getting my contact information through Christopher. I hesitated at first but ended up accepting her friend request. Now she’d sent me another message: “I’m getting engaged to Christopher soon. If you know what’s good for you, stay away from him.” I didn’t bother replying. Instead, I grabbed my groceries and made my way to the apartment complex across the street. When I reached my building, I noticed a sleek Porsche parked outside, gleaming under the streetlights. It was Christopher’s car. Dealing with Christopher Gray had always been a headache. He loved surrounding himself with beautiful women, which was his business. But for some reason, he never seemed willing to leave me alone.

I took the elevator up to my floor, and the moment I opened the door, Christopher greeted me. He took the grocery bag from my hands and grabbed a pair of slippers from the rack. “You’re back?” he asked casually. “What’s for dinner tonight?” He spoke like we were an old married couple, his tone natural and familiar, as if he belonged here. I sighed, took the slippers from him, and sat down on the bench to change shoes. Meanwhile, he carried the groceries into the kitchen like he owned the place. “How about braised pork?” he asked, glancing at me as he tied the bunny-print apron hanging by the wall around his waist. The sight was almost comically domestic. I leaned against the kitchen doorframe, watching as the exhaust fan hummed in the background, drowning out the quiet tension in the room. Christopher moved around the kitchen with ease, as if he’d done this a hundred times before. “Braised pork sounds fine,” I said finally. “But what are you doing here? Don’t you have work?” “Nothing urgent at the office,” he replied with a smile. “Oh, by the way, the pink diamond necklace you wanted has been set. I brought it over for you.” “Christopher,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “We need to talk.” “Sure,” he said easily, tilting his head and flashing me a boyish grin. He had a face that seemed to have been crafted with care—handsome, charismatic, and utterly disarming. “Evelyn Reed,” I began, meeting his gaze. “You proposed to her on a global live broadcast. You arranged a citywide light show for her birthday. You even filled the sky with fireworks for her.” “And earlier this year, when she was in a car accident and needed a blood transfusion, you made a big public scene about it.” “Christopher, with your resources, you could’ve handled all of those things quietly. But you didn’t. You wanted the whole world to know how much you love her.” Christopher chuckled lightly as he sliced the meat. “Exactly,” he said. “When you’re trying to win someone over, you have to go all out. A little showmanship never hurts.” “Girls love this kind of thing.” The meat went into the pot, and the blue flame flickered beneath it. I sighed. “So, are you planning to marry her?” I asked. Christopher turned to look at me, his smile as charming as ever. “Hannah,” he said smoothly, “how could I possibly marry her?” “She’s just a bit of fun. Life’s too long not to enjoy a little romance along the way.” “I’m young. Why not indulge in a few fleeting adventures while I can?” I had expected this answer. But I tried to reason with him anyway. “Christopher, you could marry her. I’ll talk to my family, convince them to support the idea. We can finalize our divorce. Yes, splitting the assets would be tricky, but—” Before I could finish, Christopher waved me off, laughing. “Hannah, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for some young boy,” he teased. “Who is it? Some hotshot actor? A college kid?” “Let me meet him first. I’ll judge if he’s worthy of you.” The words I wanted to say caught in my throat.

Christopher glanced at me, his smile calm and unshaken. “If there’s no one else,” he said lightly, “then let’s drop this subject altogether.” “Everyone needs a legally recognized partner in life. If I have to choose, I want it to be you—now and forever.” I sighed deeply. There was no reasoning with him. “You’re toying with Evelyn’s feelings,” I said bluntly, unable to hide my frustration. “When have I ever toyed with anyone’s feelings?” Christopher’s tone remained even. “She came from nothing, and I gave her wealth, security, and everything she could ever dream of.” “I even created the kind of romance she wanted.” “In this relationship, I’ve given my time, my energy, and my sincerity.” “Every time, I’ve been serious.” “As for the rest, if she’s smart, she’ll understand.” I understood. But that didn’t mean everyone else would. My childhood was spent abroad, watching my father surrounded by countless lovers—both men and women. It became normal for me to see relationships tangled and messy. I hated it. I longed for the kind of love I read about in books: two people, committed to each other for life, growing old hand in hand. But I knew that wasn’t realistic. My older brother had once jokingly said something crude: “If a rich man isn’t cheating, it’s because he’s either ugly or broke.” In elite families like ours, the idea of staying loyal to one person forever was laughable. I met Christopher Gray when I was seventeen. By eighteen, my family had arranged for us to marry, signing a contract that tied our fates together. I didn’t object. After all, if I had to marry for the sake of family alliances, wasn’t it a blessing that my match happened to be someone as devastatingly handsome as Christopher? Later, I returned to this city to attend college and started living a quiet, almost reclusive life. I avoided parties, social events, and all the performative aspects of being a public figure. I hated being in the spotlight, hated the empty conversations of charity galas and the superficial smiles that came with them. Instead, I spent my time watching TV shows, reading novels, and working on my art. Christopher would visit me occasionally. We’d cook together, share meals, and talk about mundane things. Sometimes, he’d stay overnight, but he always slept in the guest room while I stayed in the master bedroom. It was a peaceful, uneventful existence. But tonight’s dinner didn’t go the way it usually did. Just as we set the food on the table, a loud knock echoed through the apartment. I thought it might be the building manager, but when I opened the door, Evelyn stood there, her face pale and stormy. The woman who had become the envy of everyone—rumored to have it all, both love and money—looked anything but glamorous now. The moment she saw me, she raised her hand to slap me. I caught her wrist mid-air. I’d trained in self-defense and taekwondo; dealing with someone like her was hardly a challenge. “Are you here to see Christopher?” I asked calmly. Her eyes immediately filled with tears, and her voice trembled as she pointed at me, shouting: “Hannah, do you have no shame? Stealing someone else’s boyfriend?” Her anger was so intense she could barely form a coherent sentence. I reached into the shoe cabinet, pulling out a pair of spare slippers. “If you’re here, you might as well join us for dinner,” I said with a small smile. “Christopher’s braised pork is pretty good.” Before she could respond, Christopher grabbed the slippers from my hand and tossed them back into the cabinet. Instantly, his expression hardened, his charming demeanor vanishing. “What are you doing here?” he demanded coldly, his voice sharp and unyielding. “Go home,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Don’t make me say it again.” Evelyn’s beautiful eyes brimmed with tears, glistening so heartbreakingly that even I felt a pang of discomfort just looking at her. So, I turned to Christopher and said, “You should take Miss Reed home and explain everything to her.” Then, worried Evelyn might get the wrong idea, I added with a light smile, “Miss Reed, I’m not Mr. Gray’s lover.” Because I wasn’t. I was merely his wife in name only. Christopher would never love me. He couldn’t. All his grand displays of affection were for Evelyn—or perhaps shared among others. Maybe that’s why I never let myself fall for him. Because when I looked at Christopher and Evelyn, I could stay detached, calm, and unaffected. Like watching a TV drama. No matter how gripping the plot was, I was just an outsider. Christopher’s expression darkened slightly. I guessed he hadn’t expected Evelyn, the naïve girl he’d pampered for over a year, to storm in like this, catching him off guard. If anything, I should’ve felt awkward, embarrassed, maybe even ashamed. After all, I was the one caught in the middle of this mess. But Evelyn wasn’t ready to leave. For the past year and a half, Christopher had chased her relentlessly, making her believe she was his one and only. To Evelyn, she wasn’t just his priority—she was irreplaceable, the center of his world. And now, discovering that the man who worshipped her might care about someone else? It shattered everything. “Chris,” Evelyn choked out, pointing at me in anger. “Tell me, who is she to you?” “Do you think I don’t know?” “She’s just your little pet, isn’t she? A goldfinch you keep in a cage.” Her voice cracked as she continued, “You said you loved me. You said I was the only one for you.” The situation was getting awkward, so I stepped back, giving them space to argue. Christopher grabbed her arm and dragged her out into the hallway, his face cold. I quietly shut the door. I didn’t pay for VIP access to this drama, so I had no interest in hearing or seeing what came next. I assumed Christopher would leave with Evelyn. After all, everyone said he loved her desperately, passionately, with the kind of devotion that could move mountains. But about thirty minutes later, Christopher returned. He walked in to find me sitting cross-legged on the couch, eating dinner and laughing at some sitcom on TV. His expression darkened as he scolded, “Hannah, can’t you be a little more careful?” I blinked at him, confused. “Careful about what?” He ignored me, grabbed a bottle of red wine, and poured himself a glass. I shook my head. That particular bottle of wine was one my brother had brought me from a French vineyard. I’d kept it on the shelf because the bottle looked nice and added a touch of elegance to the apartment. Now Christopher was drinking it like it was tap water. “Someone knocked on your door, and you didn’t even check who it was first,” he said, his tone accusatory. “What if it had been someone dangerous?” “Hannah, listen to me,” he continued. “You shouldn’t stay here anymore. This building’s security is a joke. I’ve already prepared a place for you at Pear Ridge Estate. You can move there in a few days.” I shook my head. Pear Ridge Estate was a luxury villa complex, a playground for the wealthy. The grounds were meticulously maintained, but everything felt artificial—too polished, too calculated. The place lacked warmth, like wearing a mask all the time. Here, in this modest apartment complex, you could hear neighbors arguing, kids laughing, dogs barking. It was messy and alive, full of humanity. Even if I didn’t fully belong here, I felt more human being surrounded by it. “Even if I’d asked who was at the door, and Evelyn said her name, do you think I wouldn’t have opened it?” I asked with a smile. Christopher didn’t reply. Instead, he casually added a piece of braised pork to mine. “You’re too thin,” he said, his tone softening. “Eat more.” For a moment, the scene felt familiar, comfortable. Like we’d been married forever, with no need for formalities or polite distance. He didn’t seem like the CEO of a massive corporation, and I—well, I was still just me. His phone buzzed, pulling him out of the moment. He glanced down at the screen, and from where I was sitting, I caught a glimpse of his reaction. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his expression shifted into something… different. Curiosity got the better of me, and I leaned over to peek at his phone. A photo filled the screen. A young woman dressed in a maid costume, complete with bunny ears, black stockings, and impossibly long legs.

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