I was at a luxury car dealership, scrolling on my phone while waiting, when I stumbled upon a livestream of my husband Adrian’s graduation. The camera briefly showed a young woman—one of his grad students—linking arms intimately with him. Just then, the salesman pointed at my screen. “I know that guy! He bought a car here the other day.” I pointed at Adrian. “Him?” “Absolutely. A client that generous? Unforgettable.” He gestured to the girl. “That must be his wife. The car was for her.” “A seven-figure car… rich and devoted,” he added. An icy knot tightened in my chest. After the stream, I called Adrian. “Honey, my car’s old. What’s a reasonable price for a new one?” He dismissed me. “Just get it fixed. Stop being materialistic, Beth.” I found the girl’s social media and commented under her new car photo: 【Nice car. Too bad the broke freeloader who bought it will soon be kicked out with nothing. Hope he can still afford you then.】 1 I put my phone away and pointed to a car in the center of the showroom—the exact same model Adrian had bought for his student, Bianca. “That one. I’ll take the fully-loaded version.” The salesman’s eyes lit up. “M-Ms. Thorne, are you sure? The top-of-the-line model is over two hundred thousand dollars…” Without a word, I pulled a black card from my purse and handed it to him. My only condition was that I wanted to drive it off the lot within the hour. The old car I had been driving was a wedding gift from my father. After all these years, it was falling apart. I’d mentioned wanting a new one several times, but Adrian always lectured me about how, as a professor’s wife, I needed to be modest and not chase after material possessions. And I, like a fool, had believed him. I never imagined it was just a script he used to manipulate me. With the new keys in my hand, I drove straight to Northwood University. It was 5 p.m., just when Adrian would be getting off work. I parked the car in the most conspicuous spot right by the main entrance. Students stopped in their tracks, pulling out their phones to take pictures. This was exactly the effect I wanted. I didn’t have to wait long, but it wasn’t Adrian who showed up first. It was Bianca. When she saw my new car, identical to hers, a flash of panic crossed her face. Her voice was already trembling as she approached me. “Mrs. Thorne…” “I’m so sorry, this is all my fault. Please don’t misunderstand Professor Thorne.” Her eyes were red-rimmed, tears welling up as if on cue. “The university doesn’t provide housing for grad students, and Professor Thorne saw how exhausted I was commuting four hours every day from the suburbs. He was just worried about me, a young woman traveling alone… that’s why… that’s why he helped me buy the car.” “I’m going to pay him back! I promised I would, as soon as I start working.” She dabbed at her eyes with a delicate hand, her performance drawing the attention of passersby. “Is that Professor Thorne’s wife? She looks so intimidating.” “Yeah, Bianca is such a sweet, hardworking person. She would never do something like that.” “Rich wives are always so paranoid. They think every younger woman is a homewrecker.” I watched her act, a perfect, pitiful little victim. What a masterclass in manipulation. Just then, Adrian arrived. He saw the tear-streaked Bianca and the whispering crowd, and his face instantly darkened. He walked straight past my car without even glancing at me, handing a tissue to Bianca with a soothing murmur. “Don’t cry. I’ll handle this.” Then, he turned to me, his voice barely suppressing a roar. “Beth! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” He shouted my full name, loud enough for half the campus to hear. “Can’t you bring this up at home? You have to come here and make a scene in front of a student? Have you no decency?” He pointed a shaking finger at me. “And what was that comment you left on Bianca’s photo? Delete it, right now! And apologize to her!” “Apologize?” I laughed as if he’d told the funniest joke in the world. “Why should I?” Adrian’s eyes finally landed on my new car, and his brow furrowed. “This car… you bought this?” I stepped out and dangled the keys in front of his face. “That’s right, darling.” I raised my voice, making sure every single gawker could hear me. “Since you were so generous as to buy one for your student, I couldn’t let your actual wife look too shabby, could I? So I bought this one for myself. Fully loaded. Paid in full, with my own card.” “If you want something in life, you work for it. That’s what real strength is. A young woman with her whole life ahead of her shouldn’t be looking for shortcuts, getting involved in things she’ll be ashamed of later.” I shot a pointed look at the now-pale Bianca. “After all,” I paused, my gaze returning to Adrian’s thunderous face, “his gravy train is about to come to a screeching halt.” 2 We walked into the house, one after the other. Adrian tossed his keys onto the console table and sank into the sofa, adopting his usual cold-war stance. I changed my shoes and poured myself a glass of water, ignoring him completely. When I met him, Adrian was just a poor kid from the countryside. I married him against my parents’ adamant objections. In his eyes, that desperation became proof that I was weak, that I could be easily controlled. He was convinced that if he gave me the silent treatment, just like he always did, I would eventually break and come crawling back, apologizing and begging for his forgiveness. But this time, I said nothing. And just as I expected, he couldn’t stand the silence. “Beth, what is it you want?” “There’s nothing going on between Bianca and me.” He walked over, his tone softening slightly, but still laced with that infuriatingly paternalistic air. “She’s a gifted student from a poor family. I was just trying to help a talented person in need.” “She said she would pay me back. Why do you have to be so unreasonable? Humiliating her in front of the entire university? How is she supposed to face anyone now?” Every word was a defense of Bianca, an indictment of me. I laughed inwardly, my face remaining a placid mask. “Is that so? Well, if she’s such an exceptional student, then I really should get to know her better.” “How about this? Let’s take her out for a meal sometime. It can be my apology for my… rash behavior today.” Adrian stared at me, clearly taken aback by my sudden capitulation. A flicker of smug satisfaction crossed his face before he nodded in agreement. The dinner was at an exclusive private kitchen. Bianca was wearing a white dress, her makeup flawless, looking even more radiant than the day before. Adrian took the menu and spoke to the waiter with an easy familiarity. “Bianca is allergic to seafood, and she doesn’t like cilantro or spicy food. Extra sugar in the braised pork belly; she has a light palate, prefers things sweet.” He had it all memorized. Then he turned to me. “Beth, what do you want?” I smiled and told him to order for me. A few minutes later, a large platter of grilled lamb chops was placed in front of me. He had forgotten. Or perhaps, he had never bothered to remember that I am severely allergic to lamb. Bianca pointed at my plate with a giggle. “Mrs. Thorne, you’re so amazing. You can eat anything. I’m so picky with my food, it must be such a hassle for Professor Thorne to always remember my preferences.” “It’s no trouble at all,” Adrian chimed in immediately. “You’re perfect just the way you are.” Watching his fawning display, my heart grew colder with each passing second. I put down my chopsticks and casually brought up the past, my tone light as I spoke to Bianca. “You know, it wasn't easy for your Professor Thorne to get where he is today. When I first met him, he was an apprentice at a hair salon. Everyone called him ‘Tony’.” Bianca choked on her tea, nearly spitting it out. Adrian’s face went black. I ignored them and continued. “He was so poor back then, he couldn’t even afford rent. I thought it was a waste for a university graduate to be washing hair, so I paid for his master’s and his Ph.D.” “Even his current teaching position at the university… my father had to pull a lot of strings to get that for him.” Bianca probably never imagined that the brilliant professor she so admired had such a sordid history as a kept man. Adrian looked like he was about to explode, but under my calm, steady gaze, he didn’t dare say a word. Because every word I’d said was the absolute truth. The rest of the meal passed in a strange, suffocating silence. As soon as we got home, Adrian clutched his stomach and announced he had diarrhea, a frequent excuse of his lately. I used to believe him, naively buying him all sorts of probiotics. Now I knew it was just a cover. While he was in the shower, on a whim, I picked up his phone from the nightstand where it was charging. I had never checked his phone before, so his password was simple: his birthday. I opened his messaging app. Pinned to the top was Bianca’s profile picture, a cute little white rabbit. The chat history was completely wiped. But then I went back and opened his text messages. The most recent one was sent just a few minutes ago. 【Bianca, don’t listen to her nonsense. I’m the one in charge of my family now. She’s just a clueless housewife who’s been depending on me for years. Stick with me, and I’ll take care of you.】 ‘Depending on me for years.’ The words made me tremble with rage. His meager professor’s salary could barely cover a designer coat, let alone the lavish dinners he used to impress people. But the naive Bianca had bought his lies, replying with a shy emoji. Followed by: 【So… same place tomorrow?】 3 A jolt went through me. I remembered something. Not long ago, Adrian had mentioned wanting to stay at our other, unused villa for a few days, claiming the quiet environment was better for writing his thesis. I hadn’t suspected a thing and had given him the keys. Now I realized, it was indeed a quiet, perfect place for… certain activities. The next morning, I drove directly to the suburban villa. A faint, unfamiliar perfume lingered in the air. I had never worn that scent. I slipped on a pair of house slippers and walked inside. The closer I got to the bedroom, the tighter an invisible hand squeezed my heart, making it hard to breathe. Just then, the bedroom door opened. Bianca emerged, wrapped in a sexy silk nightgown, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Honey, is that you? I’ve been waiting for you…” Her words died in her throat when she saw it was me. I didn’t give her a chance to speak. I walked up and delivered two sharp slaps across her face. Smack! Smack! Bianca stumbled back, stunned, clutching her rapidly swelling cheeks. “You… you hit me?” “Hit you?” I sneered. “You’re lucky that’s all I’m doing. This is my house. You’re trespassing. I could have you arrested.” The mask of innocence dropped. “Don’t act so high and mighty, Beth,” she spat. “You think you’re still the untouchable heiress? Stop deluding yourself! Adrian told me everything. Your family is nothing but an empty shell now. Even this villa is in his name!” At that moment, the front door opened. Adrian walked in, carrying breakfast. He froze when he saw the scene. His eyes locked on the red handprints on Bianca’s face, and his gaze shifted to me, blazing with fury. “Beth, are you insane?! Why are you hurting Bianca?!” He rushed to her side, shielding her behind him. Watching him protect her so fiercely, my heart turned to ash. “Adrian,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “have you forgotten who bought you this house?” His pupils contracted. “I’ll give you one last chance,” I said, pointing to a utility knife on a nearby table. “You have two choices.” “One, take that knife and shave her head. If I’m satisfied, we can pretend none of this ever happened.” “Or two,” my voice dropped to an icy whisper, “you can keep protecting her. But I will call my father right now and have him cut off all your project funding and get you kicked out of the university.” He knew, better than anyone, that my father could and would do exactly that. Everything he had—his title, his status, his reputation—was a gift from my family. “Beth, do we have to do this? After all our years of marriage…” “Marriage?” I cut him off. “Did you think about our marriage when you were lying about writing a paper and screwing her in this bed? Did you think about our marriage when you were using my family’s money to buy her a luxury car, while refusing to buy me a new one?” With every word, the color drained from his face. I pressed the knife into his hand. “Choose. Your future… or your true love.”
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