
Marcus Chen's fingers traced the edge of his coffee mug as he stared out the window of his in-laws' mansion. The morning sun painted golden streaks across the marble floors, but even its warmth couldn't pierce the perpetual chill that filled this house. Five years of marriage, and he still felt like an unwelcome guest at the Wong family's breakfast table. Still felt like an outsider even though he had done so much for them.
"I see you're still wearing that pathetic excuse for a watch," Eleanor Wong remarked, his mother-in-law, her voice dripping with disdain. She adjusted her pearl necklace, making sure the movement caught the light.
"Victoria deserves better than a husband who can't even afford proper accessories." She said with a scoff before glaring at Marcus.
Marcus swallowed the familiar taste of humiliation. The watch had been his father's last gift before passing away and for the first time in a long time, he had decided to wear it that morning. Guess it was the wrong choice. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but Victoria's hand squeezed his thigh under the table – their old signal for him to stay quiet and keep the peace.
"Mother's right, darling," Victoria said, her tone sweet but her eyes cold. "Perhaps if you'd taken James's advice about that development project last year, we wouldn't still be living with my parents."
The mention of James Parker made his stomach twist. His best friend since college had been spending a lot of time at the Wong estate lately, supposedly helping Victoria with some charity event planning and her father get a new leased property near the beach. Marcus had noticed the lingering looks between them, the way their conversations stopped when he entered a room, but he'd buried his suspicions deep. After all, James was the one person who'd stood by him through everything. The only person who made this marriage between he and Victoria bearable with his constant encouragement.
Richard Wong lowered his newspaper just enough to fix Marcus with his usual look of contempt. One that Marcus fought the urge to frown at.
"Speaking of James, he's accomplished more in six months than you have in five years, Chen. It's not too late for Victoria to reconsider her options."
There Richard went again, not even bothering to call him by the family name. The words hung in the air like poison. Marcus pushed back from the table, his chair scraping against Italian marble.
"I should head to the office. We're presenting the new convention center designs today." Marcus said to them in a bid to leave.
Victoria didn't look up from her phone.
"Don't forget we have dinner with the Parkers tonight. James is bringing his new sports car – the one you said was out of our budget."
Marcus grimaced at her, the words biting deep into his skin but he didn’t let it show. He smiled instead and bid them farewell, walking out of the room with his head hung low. With a look of resolve, he assured himself that he was going to win the hearts of the board, get a promotion and finally be seen by the family. All he had to do was present these designs. Easy enough.
••••
The truth hit Marcus like shattered glass that afternoon. He'd left work early, a headache pounding behind his eyes after another day of his designs being rejected for "lack of vision." The house had been quiet when he entered, too quiet for a place that usually echoed with his mother-in-law's criticism but it was fine. He wasn’t in the mood to handle anyone at the moment.
Victoria's car had been in the driveway, parked next to James's new Maserati. Another charity planning session, she'd said this morning. Good. At least she would be occupied by James’ flashiness and wealth so much that she wouldn’t pay him any attention.
He walked up the grand staircase, wanting nothing more than to plop down on his bed when he heard some sounds from behind the closed master’s bedroom. From behind it came the soft murmur of voices, punctuated by a laugh he knew better than his own. Marcus stood there, unsure of what to do. He stayed and listened though, wanting to know what Victoria and James were talking about.
"We can't keep doing this," Victoria's voice drifted through the door. "He's starting to suspect something."
James's rich baritone followed.
"Let him suspect. Your father's already talking about finding you a better match. Marcus was never good enough for you, Vic. We both know that."
"I know." Victoria's voice held the same dismissive tone she used when critiquing Marcus's clothes. "God, I was such a fool to marry him. Daddy was right. I should have listened."
Marcus' fingers curled around the doorknob, his knuckles going white. Five years of humiliation, of trying to prove himself worthy of the Wong family name, of believing that somewhere beneath Victoria's cutting remarks lay the woman he'd fallen in love with in college. Five years of trusting that at least James understood, that at least he had one true friend in this cage of a life.
With his nose flaring, Marcus barged into the room, readily wanting an explanation.
Victoria lay draped across James's chest, her red dress vivid against the white Egyptian cotton sheets. Their heads snapped toward the door in perfect synchronization, faces frozen in an almost comical display of shock.
"Marcus!" Victoria scrambled to sit up, pulling the sheets around her. "You're... you're home early."
James didn't move, didn't even have the decency to look ashamed. Instead, he met Marcus's gaze with something close to triumph.
"Well, this isn't exactly how we planned to tell you." He said, his voice laced with indignity.
The calm that settled over Marcus surprised him. He'd imagined this moment in his darkest thoughts – the rage, the pain, the violent confrontation. Instead, he felt oddly detached, as if watching a scene in a movie he'd seen too many times.
"How long?" The question came out steady, almost conversational.
Victoria's face hardened, transforming from feigned guilt to the familiar mask of contempt.
"Does it matter? We both know this marriage was a mistake from the start. You never belonged in this family, Marcus. You never belonged in this world."
"Two years," James offered, sitting up and reaching for his discarded shirt. "Though if we're being honest, she never really belonged to you in the first place."
Two years. Almost half of his marriage. Every dinner, every family gathering, every time James had consoled him after another of Richard Wong's cutting remarks – all of it had been a carefully orchestrated charade.
"I should have seen this coming." Marcus said quietly, his grip on the door handle lessening.
"Oh, spare us the noble victim act. What did you expect? You couldn't even get my father to approve a single one of your designs. James at least knows how to succeed in this world." Victoria shouted at him, abruptly standing up.
"Success." Marcus tasted the word like bitter medicine. "Is that what you call this?"
"More successful than you'll ever be," James interjected, now fully dressed and wearing that familiar smile – the one Marcus had once thought represented friendship.
"Face it, Marcus. You were always the charity case. The scholarship kid playing at being one of us. Hell, even with all these connections, you couldn’t rise to the top of the food chain. Pathetic."
The words should have hurt. They should have cut deep into the insecurities Marcus had carried since the day he first set foot in the Wong mansion. Instead, they washed over him. He was used to it. Hearing those words from James did nothing to him.
Without another word, he turned and walked away from the bed, away from the betrayal, away from five years of trying to earn love from people incapable of giving it. Behind him, Victoria's voice rang out, sharp and demanding.
"Where are you going? We need to discuss this like adults!"
Marcus paused at the doorway, not bothering to look back.
"I'm going to call my lawyer. I suggest you do the same."
As he descended the stairs, he heard the rapid click of Victoria's heels behind him, followed by James's heavier footsteps. Their voices blended with the sudden appearance of Eleanor Wong, who must have returned home during the confrontation.
"What's going on here?" Eleanor's imperious tone cut through the air. "Victoria, why are you crying?"
Marcus reached the bottom of the stairs just as Richard Wong emerged from his study, drawn by the commotion. The family patriarch took in the scene with cold calculation, his eyes narrowing as Victoria rushed to his side.
"Daddy, he's threatening me with lawyers!" Victoria's voice trembled with practiced vulnerability. "After everything we've done for him!"
Richard's face darkened with rage.
"How dare you threaten my daughter? After we took you in, gave you opportunities you never deserved?"
Marcus looked at them all – the family that had never been his, the friend who had never been true, the wife who had never loved him. The perfect picture of wealth, privilege, and corruption.
"I'll have my things out by tomorrow," he said quietly, not bothering to explain what had happened. They would only defend Victoria.
"You'll leave tonight," Richard snapped. "And don't think you'll get a penny from this family. I have the best lawyers in the city on retainer."
Marcus nodded once, then walked past them toward the door. Behind him, the Wong family's voices rose in a chorus of threats and insults, but they no longer held any power over him. Regardless of what had occurred, for the first time in a long time, Marcus could breathe. For the first time, he felt free.

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Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Nine: ALREADY IN MOTION
Days had gone by after the supposed burial of Rachel Blythe or Wei, depending on who looked at it, was long gone. People still mourned her loss, and the press all carried the news of Rachel’s death all around but in truth people had moved on from it. The funeral had passed, and everyone had gone on with their respective lives. Everyone except for the person who died. Rachel still stuck around, now mostly healed from her trauma, as she stood behind a false frame in a restaurant wringing her hands and calming her nerves for what she was about to do. This was ludicrous and insane. Even if they were able to pull off what Marcus had in mind, what’s to say that Estelle wouldn’t find out immediately and really have her killed this time? She huffed and then spoke into the small microphone that was placed on her gown. “Are you sure about this Marcus? What if she finds out?" Rachel asked, her nerves getting the best of her. “She won't." Marcus’ voice spoke back at her from the earpiece she h
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Eight: A BURIAL
A day or two had gone by since Marcus had confronted Estelle at her home. Under normal circumstances he would feel nothing but blind rage at what she had done to his wife, but Rachel had lived and in a sense that was almost enough not to burn down Estelle’s house with her in it. Almost. To everyone on the outside and apart from the people who were involved in the rescue, the rest of the world went with the story that Rachel was indeed dead. Although no one knew the details of her death due to the family saying that they wanted to keep it private, the public acknowledged their request and didn’t pry, only sending their condolences in any form that they could. Marcus stuck to the story well. He and the rest of his family followed the story to the letter, with Elias coming back from his trip and Rachel’s mother finally coming out of the shadows to attend the mock funeral. Her uncles stayed behind, not bothering to show up when the company assets had been put in Marcus’ name in the case
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Seven: DISGUISES
“How did you find me?” Marcus asked Callum as he watched the paramedics who arrived at the scene some minutes after he was almost shot, carry Mark's dead but covered body away and wheel a drained Rachel into an ambulance. “I found you because I know the kind of man you are. You would destroy anyone to save your family.”Marcus stared at him, confused as he cradled his arm that was hurt during the scuffle with Mark.“In other words, I knew you weren't going home to speak to your father. I tried to give you a benefit of the doubt but I couldn't and I followed you. I thought that it was better to be safe than sorry.”“You saw me at the Moore's?”“Yes. I still don't know why you went there but when I saw you run out, I knew that things weren't right. I still tailed you and then you ended up here. I stayed outside for a bit, not really sure if I should have gone in after you. I had a bad feeling when you stayed in there more than I expected so I called reinforcements just in case. As soon
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Six: DEATH
Hello Marcus. Long time no see.” He said with an ominous smirk. Marcus frowned as he saw Mark’s face. Mark wore a leather jacket and jeans completing his biker from hell look and held a gun in his hand. He smiled wickedly and pointed the gun at Marcus. "Mark.” Marcus muttered, his voice dripping with anger. “We had a deal.” “A nice deal, yes but I told you Marcus. No matter what deal we made, we would never be able to trust each other. Never.” Mark said, shaking his head. “You bastard.” “Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Don’t call me that. You should know more than anyone that I’m the one in control here. We aren’t at your home, and I am not a prisoner in your house anymore. You are on my turf.” Marcus bit his tongue on the insults even though he had more to say. “What have you done to Rachel?" Marcus asked, trying to be calm and not escalate the situation. Mark laughed. “Oh, you mean your wife? Let me show you.” Marcus could see Mark pull out a remote from his back pocket
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Five: FULL CIRCLE
"I have your wife, Marcus. I have Rachel.” “What did you say?” Marcus shouted out as he stepped closer to Estelle, feeling ready to wring her neck until she told him what he wanted to know, when he heard the click of several guns. He stopped in his tracks and took a look around. About three men stood behind pillars, all pointing their guns at him, willing to shoot if he made the wrong move. How did he not notice them when he walked into the room? Marcus could tell that he was outnumbered and was basically the prey in this situation so he stepped back but that didn’t stop him from glaring at a smiling Estelle. “Where is she?” He growled, counting down the seconds that he could run out and find Rachel as soon as Estelle gave him what he needed. Whatever it was, Mark’s manhunt would have to wait until he got his wife back. Estelle frowned and stood up, matching Marcus. “You care about her more than you care about me. I had an inkling that she had poisoned your mind, but I didn’t thi
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Four: NEVER LETTING GO
Marcus had ended his search for that day with the police officers, Callum and Coleman before he went back to the precinct dressing room in a sad state. They hadn’t found Mark and they had searched all the places that he would have been hiding out in. His home or former home by the state that they saw the place in, his miniature workplace, his sister’s home which yielded no fruit and the grave where his mother was buried. Marcus wasn’t sure that they would catch him at the latter place, but it was worth a try to the authorities. Mark was literally nowhere to be found. It was as if he disappeared into thin air. “Fuck.” He muttered as he wore his suit Market after changing out of his other clothes. As Marcus scrambled his brain for more possible hiding spots, the door to the room was opened and Callum walked in with the same air of despair at their failed search. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, Marcus. We will find the man.” “I’d want that sooner rather than later, Detective Callum
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