Chapter 1: The Heat of Deceit
I sat before the mirror, my reflection a cruel tease of beauty amidst the exhaustion clawing at my bones. Even on my worst days, I looked stunning—Freda, my fierce best friend, always said I could make 'looking beautiful' a full-time gig. But beauty didn’t buy love, not from Lucien, my so-called husband. Behind me, he dressed with the cold precision of a stranger, his eyes avoiding mine as I struggled with the delicate clasp of my necklace.
'Can you help with this? My nails are a nightmare,' I said, flashing the offending manicure with a half-smile.
He shot me a look, sharp enough to cut glass. 'Ask a maid on the way out. It’s not rocket science, Laura.' His tone was ice, and I swallowed the sting, nodding as I returned to the vanity. Screw the necklace. I let my hair fall loose, mirroring my plummeting mood. If not for tonight’s big announcement, I’d have skipped this charade of a party. My life was a mess, and playing the perfect wife was the last role I wanted.
Lucien approached, hand outstretched, but I waved him off. 'Forget it. I’m not wearing it.' I didn’t want to poke the bear tonight—not on his big night. But he ignored me, picking up the necklace and stepping close. His breath grazed my neck as I lifted my hair, and a shiver raced down my spine. He fastened the clasp, but didn’t step back. Our eyes locked in the mirror, a dangerous current sparking between us.
He brushed my hair aside, his nose trailing along my neck, igniting a fire I hadn’t felt in months. My grip tightened on the vanity as excitement surged through me. His hands found my breasts, squeezing with a deliberate slowness, fingers teasing my nipples through the thin fabric. A moan escaped me, loud and unapologetic, as I bit my lip hard. His lips attacked my neck, kissing, sucking, while his hands roamed my curves with hungry intent.
'Fuck...' he groaned, inhaling the scent of my hair as his hands gripped my ass, pulling me against him. I felt his hard cock press into me, and I arched my back, offering more, craving the contact. Two months without his touch, and now this? If he wanted to fuck, I’d happily take the blame for making him late.
His phone buzzed violently in his pocket, the vibration so strong it echoed through me, right down to my core. He stepped back, pulling it out with a sigh. 'Hey, babe,' he murmured, his voice soft as he stared at me in the mirror. My heart plummeted. 'I’ll be on my way now.' He pocketed the phone and turned cold again. 'Don’t bother with your hair up. I’ve probably left marks on your neck, and I don’t want drama tonight. Forget this happened. It was a mistake.'
He walked out, leaving me staring at a fool in the mirror. How could I think Lucien would ever choose me over Megan, his precious childhood sweetheart? My eyes burned with unshed tears, but I refused to let them fall. I grabbed my purse and headed downstairs to join him, my pride the only thing keeping me upright.
At the party, Megan was waiting outside, draped in the dress our designer had crafted for *me*. Lucien had handed it to her like I was nothing. She sauntered over, kissing his cheek with a saccharine smile. 'Babe, you took forever. The guests are waiting, and Mom’s furious.' Then her gaze flicked to me, venom dripping from her words. 'Wait, you delayed Lucien for *this*? That dress and makeup make you look like a damn millipede.'
I held her stare, silent. I wouldn’t give Lucien a reason to lash out by snapping back. She tugged his arm, leading him inside, and I followed, my heels clicking with restrained fury. At the table reserved for us, Megan slid into my seat without hesitation. 'Be a sweet girl and find a corner to sit. That’s where trash like you belongs,' she sneered, shooing me away with a flick of her wrist.
I glanced at Lucien, but he was engrossed in his phone, ignoring the humiliation unfolding before him. Fine. I spotted a chair nearby and claimed it, my jaw tight. Eyes around the room lingered on me, whispers buzzing like flies. Let them stare. I wasn’t here to play the victim. If Lucien thought he could break me, he was wrong. And if Megan wanted a fight, she’d get one. I wasn’t just a pretty face—I was a storm waiting to unleash.
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