2026-04-24 11:43:59I didn’t respond to that. I got dressed in silence instead, but as I reached for my shirt, Lena continued.
“She doesn’t deserve you.” I paused. “That’s not your decision to make, Lena. I’m still married to her.” “Yes, you are,” she agreed, “but your reality is your dear wife fucking other men with your permission.” I left without another word. _______________________ “Shit, shit, shit…” The drive home felt longer than usual. I had completely forgotten that Clara planned to cook my favorite meal tonight. After that, we were supposed to have “the talk” again and figure out how to improve our open marriage. As much as that sounded ridiculous, to my ears, I shouldn't have forgotten about it. When I finally stepped into the house, everything looked exactly the same—clean, perfect… like nothing had changed. “Ace?” Clara’s voice came from the living room. I walked in slowly. She stood there, dressed elegantly as always, her expression neutral—until her eyes landed on me. They narrowed instantly. “You didn’t come home early. I called Frank, and he said you didn’t invite him out for a drink—” She suddenly stopped mid-sentence. Her gaze locked onto my neck. “What is that?” she asked, her voice turning sharp. “Is there something on my neck?” I raised a hand, trying to wipe it off. “Why do you have those marks on your neck, Ace?” My body went cold. I already knew what she was seeing. Lena had deliberately left hickeys where my clothes wouldn’t cover. Why would she even do that? Oh, fuck. “I don't know what you're talking about.” I kicked off my shoes, shrugged off my jacket, and pretended she wasn't standing there. But I could feel her eyes burning holes into the back of my head. “I asked you a question, Ace.” She fumed, throwing out an arm to block my path. “Why do you have those marks on your neck? They look like hickeys!” she screamed. I took a deep breath and raised my gaze to her. “It's none of your business what I do, Clara. You made it clear we're in an open marriage. Whatever I do now is none of your business.” I was so focused on my message to her that I didn’t notice the relaxed look on her face. But her snort brought me back to reality. “Awn, that's cute, my sweet husband.” She scrunched up her nose like I'd just told her something cute and disgusting at the same time. “Did you really think telling me this would make me jealous? Jealous of you? Come on. You are too damn stupid for that. And let's be honest, if you ever try to fuck someone else, they'll tell you the same thing. I'm sure wherever you went, looking so drunk and scrappy, you were probably spat on.” I raised an eyebrow. Was I though? My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I’d had a great fuck tonight, yet my own wife's words hurt more than they should. It shouldn’t bother me this much. Lena was hungry for me. She never made me feel like I wasn’t enough. But shit. Clara's words still hurt. I turned immediately—refusing to let her see how much it affected me—and walked straight up the stairs. I slammed the bedroom door shut. She would never come in here anyway. My hands grabbed the nearest pillow I could find and without further ado, I screamed into it, punching the headboard hard. Again. Again. Fuck!!!! This was what she wanted, right? An open marriage where we could fuck whoever we wanted. But now I came home with a hickey and… suddenly it was a problem. Why did it feel like I was the only one breaking? Why did she get to make me feel miserable while she was out there pretending Daniel was her damned cousin? For months, I’d believed it. Months. Like an idiot. Who knew it was the same man who gifted my wife the car she gave me for my fucking birthday? I released the pillow, letting it drop to the floor. My hand throbbed. Shit. I had to clean this up. My work was all I had now. I pulled the cabinet open, rummaging for a bandage. The moment I was done, I felt relieved. Maybe we should have that talk. Right? I mean, Daniel fed us, gave us everything we had—even my job. All I had to do was talk to my wife. There was still the sweet Clara I married, the one who came to me confused about a pregnancy and I accepted her anyway. I had every reason to reject it then, but I didn’t. So, rules. Yeah, once we set the rules, we should be fine. Number one rule—no fucking anyone without the other present. By the time I gathered myself and stepped out, I heard something. A muffled moan… accompanied by the creaking sound of furniture. My heart pounded as I followed the sound. My heart broke knowing what I was about to find. But my legs carried me there anyway. The sound led me to my study. The door was slightly ajar… I pushed it open to see—Clara bouncing on—wait. That didn’t look like Daniel. My eyes widened as I saw the thick part of the man's cock buried inside her, the glistening purple, veiny head driving in and out of her at full speed. Clara’s mouth hung open, drool trailing down as she screamed silently with every thrust. The bastard was driving into her hard, right there on my leather chair. “Fuck!” Clara found her voice and slapped a portrait of us at the beach off the wall. The frame smashed to pieces, and yet they didn’t stop to check what had fallen. My stomach dropped. I whirled around, running down the stairs. She had found another man to fuck within days? Did Daniel even know about this? Suddenly, my phone beeped, snapping me out of my thoughts. It was Samantha, my darling mother.
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Chapter 152
Ace’s POVThe investigator called while I was still sitting in the car outside the office.“Just say it,” I told him.“I’ve got more than those medical results now.” He sounded careful. “Two things. First one is that Clara went to a cash clinic about eight weeks ago under a slightly different name. It wasn’t a normal pregnancy visit.”“Well I’ll be dammed.”“It was a consult about faking early signs and controlling the story. The person who told me won’t go public for obvious reasons, but the timing matches when she started pushing the pregnancy hard.”My hand tightened on the steering wheel. “And the second?”“Messages but they were not signed with her name, but tied to a phone from her office. Talk about keeping the timeline useful and not letting you force her into real proof.”“Why am I not even surprised?”“Hold up, It’s not a full confession. But it sure as hell doesn’t sound like an innocent woman.”“So I’ve got enough to face her with.”“Enough to stop being gentle but not eno
Chapter 151
Lena’s POVThe window I had was only going to be open for ninety minutes.Karl had a meeting across the city, this was one of those rare times his schedule created distance without his ever watchful eyes on me. Natasha had marked the block two days ago and said, if you’re going to test anything, test it then. Not the full exit, just one piece and one route. I left the apartment with a grocery bag and the appearance of a woman running ordinary errands. At the market I bought items I did not need, then walked out through the side street instead of the front. The plan was simple, or close to it; No taxi from the nearest corner, two blocks down. A bus, not an app car. Then a transfer line we had chosen because the cameras were older and the crowd was thicker at this hour.My secondary phone stayed off in the bottom of the bag.The first stop was a short-term room above a laundry, paid in cash to avoid anyone tracing it. Natasha had refused to let me near it during setup. Today was th
Chapter 150
Clara’s POVMy father asked me to come to the house in the afternoon, which should have been ordinary but instead felt like being summoned to a verdict.He received me in the study with the door half open and his glasses already in his hand. Marcus, mercifully, was not there. His absence did not feel like relief, on the contrary, It felt like the damage had already been done thoroughly enough that he no longer needed to be present for whatever happens next.“Sit down, Clara.”I sat. “If this is about the panel clip, I already know what you’re going to say.”“It’s not only about the panel my child.” He set the glasses on the desk. “It’s about the calls you’re making Clara, the way every adjustment looks, from the outside, like a fight for survival rather than a demonstration of readiness.”My mouth went dry. “I am fighting for survival?! Is that your personal opinion or another one of Marcus’s words that has managed to get to you.”“Enough.” The word was quiet and absolute. “I am not
Chapter 149
Marcus’s POVThe morning panel had been billed as a modest industry breakfast on succession continuity in family-held enterprises. I accepted the invitation for the obvious reason: the room would contain exactly the kind of people who preferred their concerns confirmed by someone calm enough to make those concerns sound responsible.I arrived early, jacket unbuttoned, no entourage, and spent the first ten minutes greeting people by name. Helen Cho found me near the coffee.“Marcus. I thought you might be here.”“Helen.” I smiled. “I heard the youth program closed its funding round. Congratulations.”She looked pleased, then serious. “It’s a difficult climate for long-term commitments. People want competence, but they also want emotional stability, and you know that one without the other makes donors nervous.”“That’s true in more than philanthropy,” I said. I let the observation remain general. “Institutions feel safest when the person at the front doesn’t require constant temperatu
Chapter 148
Karl’s POVThe report on Sinclair was neat, thorough, and useless in the way that only competent failure could be.I finished reading it in the upper room above the warehouse and set the pages aside. Rafael stood on the other side of the table with the kind of stillness my people learned early.“He absorbed the perimeter action,” I said.“Yes.” Rafael didn’t dress it up. “Security tightened within hours. Vendor routes were rewritten before end of day. No public noise. No visible panic. He treated it like weather and kept moving.”I stared at the closed folder. “I didn’t authorize weather. I authorized a reminder.”“He received the reminder. He just didn’t break pattern.”That was the problem. Most men, once reached, started spending themselves on the reach. They became reactive, noisy, easier to predict. Sinclair kept converting pressure into schedule changes and harder edges. Adaptation without the courtesy of fear.“Say the rest,” I told Rafael.He nodded once. “Jonathan made conta
Chapter 147
Tamara’s POVJohnson closed the apartment door behind him like a man finishing a sentence he had been writing for weeks.No overnight bag this time. No soft promise about a few days and a clearer head. Just him, standing in the entryway with his hands empty and his face already halfway gone from the life we had built around other people’s emergencies.“You’re doing it,” I said.“Yes.”I stayed by the kitchen counter because moving closer would have turned the moment into a scene, and I was so tired of scenes. “Say the full version. Don’t leave me to translate.”Johnson nodded once. “I’m out of the Clara work. Officially. No more strategy calls. No more shared files. No more being the second mind in a crisis that never ends. I’m distancing from the operation and from the version of us that only functions when she’s sinking.”The words were clean. That made them worse.“And what am I supposed to do with that?” I asked. “Clap? Wish you well? Pretend this isn’t you handing me the whole bl
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