On Valentine’s Day, my usually distant husband, Liam Sterling, followed tradition by ordering a custom-made rose bouquet for every single employee at Sterling Corp. Sterling Corp. once again trended online, lauded as the most thoughtful and employee-centric company in the region. Sure enough, there it was, front and center on Chloe, Liam’s assistant’s SnapChat story, clear as day: a photo of the company’s custom rose bouquet. [Received my first Valentine’s Day flowers! Some people just use the excuse of sending flowers to everyone to prepare a special surprise just for me. Thanks, big boss~] She was sitting in a restaurant, delicately parting the petals of her rose. Inside, nestled amongst them, was a sapphire ring. My eyes instantly recognized it. It was the one-of-a-kind piece I’d desperately wanted three months ago, snatched from under my nose at an auction, priced at five million dollars. Scrolling further down her feed, there were more posts: sweet drinks alongside transfers worth millions of dollars, the first strawberry ice cream cone of summer, and a voucher for a month-long summer vacation… The comment section was buzzing with awe: [Sterling Corp. is seriously so caring! Is it too late for me to apply now?!] I knew Liam bought gourmet coffee and ice cream treats for all his employees, but when did he start handing out huge bonuses and extra vacation days for free? In that latest restaurant photo, the man across from her was only half in frame, but the dark blue tie he wore was the exact same style as the one I had personally chosen and adjusted for him this morning. I paused, then dialed Liam’s number. “Are you still working late at the office?”
As soon as I got the confirmation, I drove straight to the company building. I rarely checked in on Marcus Davies, and I didn’t come to the office often. Seven years of marriage, and I’d been by his side as he rose from a broke kid to one of the top names in the business world. Everyone knew I was the woman he adored. But his behavior over the past six months perfectly mirrored all the red flags relationship influencers posted online. It made me suspicious, no matter how much I wanted to deny it. Suppressing a wave of irritation, I pushed open the office door. I flipped on the light, only to be greeted by Marcus, kneeling on one knee, a bouquet of flowers in his hand, his eyes full of affection. “My dear wife, I’ve been waiting for you.” “You… what are you doing?” Before I could finish, he smoothly stood up, pulled me into his arms, and rested his chin intimately on my shoulder. “My wife checking up on me just shows how much she cares. So, of course, I had to give you a surprise! If you checked in every time I worked late, I’d get to see you every day.” “I love you, Happy Valentine’s Day.” Looking into his loving eyes, I felt a flicker of emotion, almost swayed. My doubts began to fade. He put his work aside, and we drove home together. After Marcus tucked me into bed, he picked up his laptop and went to the living room to continue working. I had just closed my eyes when my phone vibrated incessantly with new messages. I picked it up. An adorable animal avatar had sent a string of texts. No contact name, but the messages were pinned to the top. [Boss Davies, you actually left me alone at the restaurant on Valentine’s Day! That’s so ungentlemanly! I’m going to punish you, you have to have dinner with me every night next week!] [Hehe, by the way, how was that trick I taught you to make your wife happy? You’re such a goofball, if only you were half as smart as me~] It was Marcus’s phone. He never set a password. I recognized the sender. It was Tiffany, the intern from his company. The moment I saw those words, my blood ran cold, freezing in my veins. It dawned on me, belatedly, that Marcus was never the type to say sweet, romantic things. Men who cheat often feel guilty towards their current partner, so they subconsciously express love to compensate. That thought flashed through my mind, and I fought down a wave of nausea, scrolling up frantically. [Boss, only my warm drink has brown sugar, right? Thank you, my period cramps are gone now~] [OMG how did you know I love strawberry sundaes, and you even prepared a whole fridge full for me? You’re like an ice cream wizard, I worship you!!]… Scrolling back through the past six months, Tiffany had been chattering away daily, sharing her favorite songs and food. Marcus, though usually reserved, had responded to every single one of her messages. Our last chat, on our wedding anniversary, was him telling me he had to work late. The chat history seemed endless, and my heart felt like it was plunging into a bottomless abyss. The messages refreshed quickly. Tiffany sent a voice note, her sweet voice laced with a hint of a sob: “Boss, I really don’t want you to go. If I were a little more stubborn, would you stay tonight? It’s my mom’s death anniversary today, everyone else is so happy, except for me.” This time, Marcus replied almost instantly, the message syncing from his laptop to his phone: [Send me your location.] At the same moment, I heard the hurried sound of a laptop closing outside. Marcus pushed open the door, speaking quickly: “Bella, something urgent came up at the company. I need to go. Oh, and I’ll be working late every night next week, so don’t wait up for dinner.” With that, he grabbed his phone and jacket, ready to leave. I suddenly called out to him, my voice trembling. “Marcus, can’t you not work late tonight?” But before I could finish, his anxious voice cut me off. “Alright, why are you acting like a child at our age? I’ll come back to you once I’m done, promise. Be good.” Since we got married, Marcus had always prioritized me. He was always sensitive to my slightest emotional shifts. If only he had looked closely, he would have seen my tear-filled eyes glistening in the moonlight. But he left without a second glance. Thunder rumbled outside. I remained silent for a long time, then opened the long-dormant family SnapChat group and sent a message: [I want to come home.]
As soon as the message went out, all my relatives in the family group immediately started asking if I was alright. My Aunt Vivienne, ever sharp, sensed something was off. [Bella, has that bastard of a man been bothering you? Tell your Aunt Vivienne, and I’ll make him pay!] I hesitated for a moment, then sent another message: [Aunt Vivienne, can you help me investigate someone?] Soon, I had all of Tiffany’s information. “She’s a student Marcus sponsored in Upstate New York. After graduating, she started an internship at Davies Industries.” “The industry is buzzing with rumors that Tiffany is Marcus’s little mistress. No one at company dinners dares to push drinks on her, and any company that tries to make things difficult for her ends up being forced into bankruptcy by Marcus.” Aunt Vivienne was furious on the phone, but I remained silent. A year ago, Marcus religiously traveled to our branch office in Upstate New York every month, without fail. Each time he returned, he’d bring me little trinkets that young women liked. Back then, I thought he was finally becoming romantic. Now, I realized the affair probably had a long trail of breadcrumbs, but I had simply trusted him too much. A dull ache settled in my chest. I suddenly wanted to know what kind of person Marcus was so captivated by. I arrived at the company. He was still in a meeting. Pushing open his office door, I saw a young woman sitting in his executive chair, focused intently on decorating her workstation. She was quite ordinary, with a high ponytail. If there was anything striking about her, it was perhaps her youthful, vibrant aura. The high-end executive chair and desk were covered in pink stickers. Everywhere I looked, there were plush toys, and nestled among them was a mischievously handwritten card: [No zoning out at work, I’m watching you~] Marcus was a man who was extremely particular about his personal space, almost a control freak about his environment. The last time an employee touched his belongings without permission, they were fired on the spot. But these stickers were already yellowing and peeling at the edges, clearly having been there for a long time. My expression hardened. Tiffany saw me, and a flicker of panic crossed her eyes as she stood up. “Everyone outside is working diligently. Who told you to do all this during work hours? Are you getting paid to do nothing?” The moment I finished speaking, a crowd had gathered at the door, drawn by the commotion. Tiffany’s eyes immediately welled up. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Davies, I’ll change it…” Her voice was tinged with a sob. Marcus, hearing the commotion, suddenly appeared, stepping between us and blocking my view of her. “She’s just a young girl, a bit immature. She’s not worth your anger, Bella.” Then, he turned and said coldly, “What are you still doing here? Can’t you see you’ve upset my wife?” At his words, Tiffany’s tears instantly spilled over, and she spun around and rushed out. Marcus’s expression, however, didn’t change. He gently touched my head, placating me. “Don’t worry, Bella. She’s just a young girl, a bit immature. I’ll talk to her later.” I subtly avoided his touch, then spoke slowly, deliberately, as if trying to provoke him. “Marcus, dereliction of duty, according to company policy, is grounds for termination.” His face stiffened, and his eyes darkened. “She’s just an intern, trying to make her way here alone. Should we fire her for just this? That’s not right.” “An intern who joined three months ago getting promoted three levels to the President’s Secretary position? Is that ‘right’? What about our employees who’ve been here for five years?” I scoffed, speaking directly. “I am the General Manager of this company. I have the right to fire an employee who makes mistakes.” Seeing my resolve, Marcus suddenly interrupted me. “Arabella Davies, are you quite done making a scene!?” His tone was harsh, and I froze for a moment. Marcus rarely used my full name. This was the first time in seven years of marriage. And it was all because of another woman.
The words had barely left his mouth when he realized he’d gone too far. He instinctively reached out to grab my arm, but I didn’t give him the chance. Some words are like knives; once they’re out, you can’t take them back. When Marcus returned home, I was packing. He hung his head, wrapping his arms around me from behind, and whispered coaxingly, “Bella, I know I messed up. Please don’t be angry.” “I’ve already transferred her to a branch office. I promise you won’t see her again, okay?” I ignored him, simply putting my clothes, one by one, into the suitcase. Seeing this, Marcus suddenly gripped my wrist, his voice soft but incredibly jarring. “Don’t be childish, Bella. Where would you go without me? As far as I know, you don’t have any other family here in New York City, do you?” “Listen to me, you used to not be this willful.” At his words, my movements stiffened. Marcus knew perfectly well that I had fallen out with my father and left home for him, coming to New York City alone. On countless lonely nights, I could only pass the time by looking at old photos of my family. Yet, he used this as his leverage against me, a free pass to hurt me. I looked at him, and suddenly the man in front of me felt like a complete stranger. After a long silence, the abrupt ring of a phone broke the quiet. It was Tiffany calling. Marcus looked at me, hesitated for a moment, then pressed decline. Soon, the phone rang again. He declined it again. It wasn’t until the third time the phone rang that Marcus, feigning impatience, finally answered. “Didn’t I tell you not to call me unless it’s important?” “Boss, please help me, they’re all making me drink… I really can’t drink anymore… I’m sorry, it’s my fault for being useless…” A slightly drunken voice came through the phone. Marcus’s brows furrowed sharply. “Where are you? I’m coming over now.” He paused, looked at me deeply, then turned to leave. “Bella, this is the last time. She’s still an employee of our company, and I can’t let her say anything that would damage our company’s reputation.” “What if I say I don’t want you to go?” I stared at him directly, but before I could finish, the door slammed shut with a bang. My heart felt like it was pierced by countless needles, riddled with holes, aching in that instant. I knew, our story was over. Soon, the news of the Davies Industries CEO speeding on the highway made headlines. He barged into a restaurant’s private dining room and, without a word, assaulted the male clients eating there, getting into a brawl. For one night, Marcus Davies saving a beautiful woman dominated local news, but just as it was about to blow up, the story was suppressed. I was alone at home, my phone still buzzing with Marcus’s messages: [Bella, you must be asleep by now. I’ll bring you your favorite pastries from that shop tomorrow. Don’t be angry, okay? I swear, she’s just a junior colleague I’m looking out for. I love you, wife.] I lowered my eyes. Even now, Marcus didn’t know that I never liked sweets. When the company was just starting out and we were severely short on funds, I often ate those pastries simply because they were cheap, and the money saved could go towards rent. I clicked on Tiffany’s Twitter profile. She was live-streaming, tears streaming down her face. “Today, Boss fought with clients for me. If only I were more capable, I wouldn’t drag him down.” “But… he wasn’t just protecting me, he was protecting our baby in my belly.” The comments were flooding the screen: [Moving so fast, I’m shipping them, may they last forever!] [He feels guilty for not protecting you, you feel guilty for being useless, aww, what a divine, mutually devoted love story!] I scoffed. Marcus, a child? The next second, my gaze fell upon her live-streaming location: the police station. Right, he had caused quite a scene this time. Without hesitation, I made a call: “Aunt Vivienne, come pick me up. We’re going to the police station.”
If Marcus Davies had any misunderstandings about me over the past seven years, it was this: I was never some naive girl from a poor family. I was Arabella Montague, the heiress of the powerful Montague family from Southford. Back then, to be with him, I fell out with my father and willingly gave up my privileged status. This time, it was no different. My inherent pride wouldn’t allow me to accept an unresolved ending. Even if tearing off the facade meant a bloody truth, I wouldn’t back down. The car quickly arrived at the police station entrance. I rolled down the window. From a short distance, I saw Marcus sitting on a bench in the police station. I rarely saw him in such a state of disarray. His usually immaculate suit was wrinkled, and his face was bruised. The clients he had beaten up looked even worse, their faces almost completely swollen. I looked at him calmly. So, Marcus could indeed cast aside his pride and impeccable reputation for someone else. “I’m so sorry, Boss. Are you alright?” Tiffany practically threw herself into his arms, crying a river of tears. Marcus’s body stiffened for a moment, but he didn’t push her away. He just looked at her deeply. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” Tiffany didn’t speak, but continued crying for a long time, facing her phone’s live stream. Soon, Marcus tenderly stroked her eyes. “Don’t cry. I’ll be fine.” Carried away by the moment, Tiffany suddenly leaned in and kissed his cheek. “That’s a reward for my knight.” Marcus froze for a second. The next moment, they embraced, lost in each other. I watched this scene in the live stream, my heart aching intensely. The comments were all about how “real” they were. But after a moment, I calmed down, making eye contact with Aunt Vivienne. The next second, I pushed open the car door, strode forward, and dramatically raised my voice: “Honey, I heard you were hurt! Are you alright? …What are you two doing?!” My voice was loud enough for everyone in the police station, and even those watching the live stream, to hear clearly. All attention immediately shifted to us. In an instant, the comments section erupted.
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