Her Perfect Betrayal

Chapter 12

That night, Dorothy lay awake on the narrow, worn-out bed in the Brooks family home, unable to fall asleep. She shifted for what felt like the hundredth time!

The mattress was painfully hard.

Every time she turned over, the springs beneath her creaked loudly, and the thin pillow offered almost no comfort.

The sheets smelled faintly musty, while the cramped room felt stuffy and uncomfortable.

Dorothy frowned in disgust.

How had she ever lived like this?

She pushed herself upright and glanced around the room.

The walls were stained in several places. Old furniture occupied nearly every corner, leaving barely enough space to move around. Clothes were piled carelessly on a chair, and several empty bottles sat near the doorway.

The entire house looked shabby, filthy, and cramped!

It was nothing like the luxurious apartment she had become accustomed to. A bitter feeling slowly rose in her chest.

She had lived with Raphael for years and grown accustomed to spacious rooms, expensive furniture, spotless bathrooms, fine clothing, delicious meals, and a lifestyle that most people could only dream of.

Whenever she wanted something, Raphael had provided it. Whenever she needed money, he had transferred it without hesitation.

And because she was his wife, he had never hesitated to help her family either. Her parents and younger brother had benefited from Raphael's generosity for years.

But what had happened to all that money? Nothing!

Her mother, Alice, had wasted enormous amounts on gambling and drugs and her father had spent his share on alcohol.

And Marvin, Dorothy's younger brother had squandered money on expensive clothes, reckless entertainment, and his friends from the street gangs.

No matter how much Raphael gave them, there was never enough.

The family home remained exactly the same. The walls were still dirty. The furniture was still old, and the rooms were still cramped.

The Brooks family had received countless opportunities, yet somehow, they had remained trapped in the same miserable circumstances.

Dorothy's expression darkened.

She had spent years trying to help them. Or at least, that was what she told herself.

But tonight, lying on this miserable bed, she suddenly realized how much she hated returning to this place.

Her thoughts drifted back to Raphael's apartment. The enormous bedroom, the soft mattress, the expensive bedding, the spacious bathroom, the walk-in closet filled with designer clothes, the climate-controlled rooms, and the quiet elegance of the entire residence. Even the food was different.

Whenever she wanted something, the best restaurants delivered directly to the apartment, and whenever she felt tired, she could simply lie down on a comfortable sofa and have someone take care of everything.

That was the life she had grown accustomed to. And now, she was sleeping on an old mattress in a cramped room!

Dorothy clenched her teeth.

"This is ridiculous!"

She threw the blanket aside before pulling it back over herself a moment later. She couldn't deny it. She enjoyed the life Raphael provided.

In fact, she had become deeply accustomed to it. But acknowledging that didn't mean she respected Raphael.

Dorothy still looked down on him.

In her eyes, Raphael had always been too obedient and easy to control. He had loved her so desperately that she had never needed to worry about losing him.

Even when she became angry, she knew he would eventually apologize. That certainty had given her a strange sense of superiority.

She had always believed Raphael needed her more than she needed him.

But tonight, for the first time, that certainty had been shaken.

He had told her to leave, ordered the property managers to revoke her access, packed up her belongings, and even arranged for their divorce.

Worst of all, he hadn't called.

Dorothy picked up her phone and stared at the screen. There were still no missed calls or messages.

She frowned, trying to convince herself. “When he’s done pretending, he’ll call tomorrow.”

Dorothy placed her phone beside her pillow, her expression twisting with irritation.

The miserable bed beneath her was a stark contrast to the luxurious mattress she had grown accustomed to in Raphael’s apartment. The difference was almost unbearable.

Still, tomorrow would be different.

She would meet Raphael at the courthouse, and eventually, he would surrender.

Slowly, Dorothy relaxed and a confident smile crept across her face.

Yes. That was exactly what would happen.

The moment Raphael saw her at the courthouse, he would realize he couldn’t live without her. He would regret everything, swallow his pride, and apologize.

She would even make him slap himself several times before forcing him to crawl at her feet and beg for her forgiveness!

A faint, arrogant smile tugged at Dorothy’s lips.

If Raphael was willing to kneel and offer her a sincere apology, perhaps she would consider forgiving him.

But she wouldn’t make it easy for him.

He had humiliated her and thrown her out of their home. He deserved to suffer for a while—to learn his lesson.

Dorothy closed her eyes.

In her imagination, Raphael was already kneeling before her, his proud head lowered as he admitted he had been wrong and begged her to return home.

The thought filled her with satisfaction, and her lips curved into a smug smile.

“I may consider forgiving you,” she whispered to herself.