On New Year’s Day, I had this sudden urge to jump on a trend and post a "Year in Review" video of us—the ultimate power couple summary. The moment I brought it up, Preston’s face darkened. "Are you serious? How childish can you get? I don't have time for this nonsense." The words were out before I could think, and I immediately regretted it. I spent the next ten minutes apologizing, remembering too late how much Preston hated being on camera. In five years of marriage, the only photo we had together was the one on our marriage license. Knowing I was in the wrong, I put on my favorite new lingerie that night and waited for him in bed. He never came home. Instead, a few hours later, I was scrolling through TikTok and stopped on a video just posted by a generic couple’s account. "Celebrating 1 million followers! Here's a little gift for you guys~" the caption read. In the video, a man in a soaking wet, white button-down was sitting in a bathtub, the water clinging to his ripped abs. The influencer was straddling his lap, teasingly running her fingers along his Adam's apple. The man let out a low groan, gripping her waist tightly, his voice choked with suppressed need. "You little temptress. Stop torturing me." His face was never shown. But the sound of that man, lost in the heat of the moment... I knew it better than I knew myself. It was my husband. Preston Sinclair. Chapter 1 I went rigid, the blood in my veins turning to ice. In complete disbelief, I kept replaying the clip, dragging the progress bar back over and over again, listening to the rasp of his breath, the muffled groan as he succumbed to his urges. I forgot how to breathe. I clicked through to their profile, but my gaze was instantly captured by their avatar. The woman’s slender waist was locked in a massive hand, while the man’s other hand held her chin with terrifying possessiveness. He was crushing his lips against hers, her cheeks flushed red. My fingers froze against the screen. I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, it was Preston. Because the luxury watch on the wrist in that photo was the exact one I bought him the year we got married. I went back to the video. The comments section was full of fans gushing about how real their chemistry was. “Mr. P's voice is so sexy, I can’t stop listening. This girl is eating SO good.” “I am officially deceased!” “Total stranger here, but is this what they mean by insane sexual tension? Damn.” I stared at the man in the video. My mind was a blank void. In five years of marriage, forget about getting him to do a TikTok trend with me—we barely had a handful of snapshots together. Yet my phone was filled with thousands of photos of him. All of them were candid, taken when he wasn't looking. I had been naive enough to believe he actually hated being photographed. I didn't realize I was gripping my phone so hard my knuckles had turned white. And right then... The woman’s cloyingly sweet, giggling voice blasted through the room, the volume so loud it vibrated against the walls. I had accidentally hit the volume rocker. Before I could turn it down, she spoke: "So, I wanted to do a normal year-end summary, but Mr. P told me that was boring. Hmph." "So, I decided to punish him a little." The woman in the video grinned at the camera. "For our year-end summary, let's tally up how many times we had sex this year!" The scene cut abruptly. Inside a dimly lit car, a woman in a lace bra was straddling a man’s lap, her eyes hazy with pleasure as she moved above him. Her moans drowned out the man's low growl. Simultaneously, her smug voiceover returned: "Our first time last year: New Year’s Day. P was so impatient, he insisted on doing it in the car." My face drained of all color. Last New Year's, Preston had said he had an emergency at the office. He left halfway through our family dinner. My in-laws had spent the rest of the night lecturing me. The lecture was always the same: it was my fault I couldn't keep Preston interested, that I needed to try harder in the bedroom. But Preston rarely slept with me. Watching this hour-long video compilation, I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I dragged the slider directly to the end to see the final tally— 160 times. Average of three times a week. A cold chuckle escaped my throat. Then, I noticed she had posted a new status update. [Teaser: Mr. P is proposing to me tonight at midnight.] The geotag was set at the city’s largest Ferris wheel at the Navy Pier. I checked my watch. Half an hour until midnight. I grabbed my keys and drove there immediately. When I arrived, I was just in time to see Preston and the woman kissing sweetly amidst a cheering crowd. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. I dialed his number. I watched him glance at his phone and decline the call. I called again. Until, finally, he picked up, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Preston, is the other woman a good kisser?" Chapter 2 Preston’s expression shifted instantly. He snapped his head up, his gaze landing squarely on me, standing just outside the cheering crowd. I sneered coldly. "Surprised?" "I never imagined my husband would be here proposing to another woman. A New Year's Eve proposal. How romantic." "Should I take off my wedding ring right now and offer it as a gift to the happy couple?" The sarcasm in my voice turned Preston’s face ashen. He lowered his voice, irritation bleeding through: "That’s enough, Audrey! Go home right now—" "Who is this on the phone, baby?" Before he could finish, the woman next to him smiled and leaned in. Catching him off guard, she snatched the phone from his hand. She pouted, her voice ringing out angrily: "I don't care who you are, but tonight, he belongs entirely to Mia!" With that, she hung up the phone. The freezing night wind whipped against my face, stinging my skin. I felt nauseous. A sharp, piercing pain began to spread from the very center of my chest. I clenched my fists tight, refused to give them another glance, turned on my heel, and walked away. Because I knew Preston would follow. Less than ten minutes later, he caught up to me. And the very first thing out of his mouth was: "Audrey, Mia is young, and it hasn't been easy for her to get where she is. Don't go looking for trouble with her. If you're mad, take it out on me." "As long as you don't make a scene, the title of Mrs. Sinclair will always be yours." Preston frowned, looking down at me with an air of absolute superiority. His tone sounded like he was offering charity to a beggar. I actually laughed. Not a single word of explanation. He thought he could just brush me off by letting me "keep" the title of his wife? I curled my lips into a cold smile and mocked him: "You cheat on me, and you say it with such undeniable righteousness. You really are a master businessman, Preston. Your thick skin and your silver tongue are truly unmatched." "She hasn't had it easy? So that gives her the right to be a cheap homewrecker?" "Audrey, that is enough!" Preston lunged forward and grabbed my wrist. His grip was brutal, like he was trying to crush the bone. His voice was lethal: "Could you stop being so incredibly toxic?" "Mia is innocent. She doesn't know anything about us. I arranged the entire proposal myself. I am warning you, do not lay a finger on her, or I will make you pay a thousand times over!" His words ignited a blazing fire in my chest. "Since you're so terrified I'll hurt her, fine. Divorce me." "Absolutely not!" Preston shot back without a second's hesitation. Ours was a corporate marriage. The assets of the Sinclair Group and my family's company, Davis Corp, were deeply intertwined. The financial fallout of a divorce would be catastrophic. He knew this. He thought it was his ultimate leverage. I stared dead into his eyes, my voice freezing: "You have two choices. Either we get a divorce, or I expose both of you to the media. Because frankly..." "I have zero interest in logging onto the internet and watching my husband's homemade pornos with another woman." With that, I ripped my hand out of his grip and walked away. That night, Preston didn't come home, and I stayed awake until dawn, staring at the ceiling. When I got to the office the next morning, my head was still pounding. A few minutes later, my secretary rushed into my office, her face paper-white. "Ms. Davis, it's a disaster!" "Someone secretly photographed you and Mr. Sinclair last night and posted it online. A major influencer is claiming you're the other woman, and it's already trending at number one on Twitter and TikTok!" "Davis Corp's stock is plummeting as we speak. The board of directors is demanding an immediate explanation." My secretary frantically handed me her tablet. My brows slammed together. I clicked on the trending hashtag and saw that the internet was flooded with photos of Preston and me from our confrontation last night. Preston’s face was blurred out. The only face clearly visible in every single photo was mine. The paparazzi had chosen their angles perfectly. Even though we were practically screaming at each other last night, the photos made the scene look incredibly intimate and scandalous. Scrolling up, I saw that familiar avatar—Mia. Her latest post read: [I expect certain people to have some self-respect. Stop trying to seduce other people's fiancés!] [Mr. P and I are very much in love. I trust that he would never betray me, so please, stop degrading yourself with these pathetic attempts to steal my man.] Chapter 3 The attached photo was a close-up of their intertwined hands. My eyes locked onto the matching engagement rings resting on their ring fingers. It felt like a knife had been driven straight through my heart. My face turned to stone. Without a second thought, I pulled off my wedding ring and dropped it directly into the trash can next to my desk. The comment section under Mia's post was a warzone of insults and death threats aimed at me. [What a desperate, home-wrecking bitch! Go die!] [Don't worry, Mia! We've got your back! No one is going to ruin your relationship!] [Shameless tramp. I'm doxxing her right now!] [Everyone, let's boycott Davis Corp! She's the heiress to the company. Does she think having money means she can just steal whoever she wants?] The further I scrolled, the worse it got. Her fans were Photoshopping my face onto grotesque, violent images. I was dominating the top ten trending spots across all platforms. ...If Preston didn't have a hand in fueling this algorithm, I'd eat my own shoe. A wave of blind fury surged through me. I immediately dialed his number. As soon as he answered, I demanded: "Did you pay to push this trending topic?" Preston’s voice was icy and detached: "Mia saw me go after you last night. She cried the entire night. This PR push today was just to pacify her. Do not respond to any of it, and do not issue a statement." "Once she's in a better mood, the trending tags will naturally drop." I was so furious I actually laughed out loud. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the phone. Before I could even respond, he added: "Also, do not call my phone randomly from now on. It upsets Mia." Click. He hung up on me. An unprecedented wave of absurdity and freezing betrayal washed over me. I took a deep breath, looking at my secretary. "Post our marriage certificate on the company's official accounts." Facts speak louder than words. Within half an hour, the narrative online violently reversed course. Seeing Davis Corp's stock finally stop its freefall, I breathed a sigh of relief. The massive weight on my chest lifted. Just then, my secretary’s voice trembled: "Ms. Davis..." She looked at me, her face completely drained of blood. "Sinclair Industries... they just issued an official statement. They claim Mr. Sinclair is not married, and that the marriage certificate we posted is a forgery!" "What did you just say?!" My head snapped up. I felt like I had been struck by lightning. I scrambled to open the official Sinclair Industries Twitter account. [I am not married. The documents circulating are completely fabricated. Cease and desist letters have been issued to all offending parties. — Preston Sinclair] My secretary's voice shook violently: "R-Right now, Mia's fans are crashing our corporate website! The entire internet is boycotting us!" "Ms. Davis, what do we do?" My fingers froze over the screen. My mind went completely blank. ...Preston was actually willing to go this far for Mia. He was willing to burn the reputations of both our families to the ground. [LMAO so it was just Photoshop all along!] [Wow, look at Ms. Innocent now! Give us another performance, why don't you?] [What a psychotic, desperate woman! I feel so bad for Mia and Mr. P. Imagine being targeted by this crazy stalker.] My face turned deathly pale. Instinctively, I went to text Preston, demanding to know why he would do something so destructive. But when I hit send, a giant red exclamation mark appeared next to my message. Message failed to send. ...He had blocked me. I ground my teeth together, forcing myself to remain calm. I issued my orders: "Contact the Sinclair executives. Ask them what the hell this means, and if they've completely lost their minds." "Have the operations department compile every single active contract and joint venture we have with Sinclair Industries. Tell the legal department to draft lawsuits against the accounts spreading defamation immediately." "We convene in the boardroom in thirty minutes." My secretary practically sprinted out to execute the orders. Everything was moving methodically. Everything except Sinclair Industries. There was absolute radio silence from their end. I said coldly: "If they don't respond in one hour, terminate one of our joint ventures. Let's see how long they can afford to play dead." One of the executives in the room looked shocked. "But if we breach the contracts..." "I've already secured new replacement partners." Chapter 4 I cut off their objections immediately. My eyes were ice. "This incident will not drag Davis Corp down." My secretary distributed the new partnership agreements to the board. The shareholders exchanged looks, but seeing the new contracts, they finally relaxed. The very minute our first termination notice was sent to Sinclair Industries, Preston called me. He was absolutely furious: "Audrey, do you really have to burn us both to the ground to be satisfied?!" "I told you Mia wouldn't affect your status! Do you absolutely have to drive her insane before you stop?!" I replied, my voice devoid of emotion: "Preston, I gave you a choice." "This is the path you chose." Preston sneered, "Fine! Let's see how long you can keep that stubborn mouth of yours shut!" I looked up at my secretary. "Send the next termination notice." This corporate standoff lasted deep into the night. When I finally took the elevator down to the executive parking garage, I hadn't even pulled out my car keys when suddenly, over a dozen people rushed out from the shadows and surrounded me! My heart dropped. "Who are you—" Smack! Before I could finish, a woman lunged out of the crowd, raised her hand, and slapped me hard across the face! The sharp sound echoed through the concrete parking garage. "You filthy bitch!" "Spit on her! This is what you get for being a homewrecker and trying to steal another woman's man! We're delivering divine justice tonight!" The slap made my vision swim with black spots. I instinctively frowned, stepping back. "I'm not a homewrecker. You have the wrong person—" Before the words were fully out, someone spit a wad of phlegm directly onto my face. "Still trying to lie, you little slut?" The woman grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanked my head back, and slapped me again! I looked up in shock, my entire body shaking with rage. "You—!" "You what?! Apologize to our Mia right now!" The next second, someone from behind kicked me hard in the back of the knees. The blinding pain drained the color from my face, and my legs buckled uncontrollably, forcing me to my knees. Then, a hand shoved my head down, slamming my forehead violently against the concrete floor! The sickening thud echoed in the garage. Followed by their mocking laughter. An overwhelming sense of humiliation surged into my throat. My eyes went bloodshot. Right then, a designer heel stepped forward, lifting my chin. Mia looked down at me from her pedestal, her eyes filled with contempt. "Ms. Davis, this is the price you pay for trying to destroy someone else's family." "Preston is mine. Next time you try something, it won't be this easy." I was forced to look up at her, my face scratched and bleeding from their fingernails. I wasn't surprised to see her at all. I laughed through the pain, gritting my teeth: "If you're so brave, why don't you drag Preston to City Hall right now and see if he gets arrested for bigamy?" "Also, there are security cameras all over this garage. You're all going to prison." Mia's face shifted slightly at the mention of bigamy. But then, a flash of pure malice crossed her eyes, and she raised an eyebrow. "With Preston backing me, what's a security camera? But you know, you just gave me a great idea." She pressed the sole of her shoe into my cheek, grinding it into the concrete. She smiled down at me: "Strip her clothes off. Then make her crawl to the front of every car in this garage, screaming 'I'm a homewrecker and a filthy whore.' If we post that online, it'll definitely go viral." "You wanted to seduce a man for attention, right? Consider your wish granted." The fans' eyes lit up. They cracked their knuckles and closed in on me. My eyes felt like they were going to burst from my skull. I thrashed wildly, my teeth chattering in fear and rage: "Don't touch me!" "This is a felony... the Davis family will destroy every single one of you!" They pinned me down from all sides, excitedly ripping my dress, tearing it until I was stripped bare! The freezing night air bit into my exposed skin. I was shivering violently, screaming until my voice was hoarse: "You are going to regret this!" "Spit on her! You think you can act arrogant when you're the side piece?" "Our Mia is the undisputed future daughter-in-law of the Sinclair family! With Mr. Sinclair protecting us, you think we're scared of you?" Mia stood there, looking at me with absolute triumph. She was just about to say something else when a piercing, deafening alarm suddenly blared through the parking garage. Her face paled. The next second, a commanding, authoritative male voice roared through the concrete pillars. "Stop right there!"
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