The door slammed behind me as I jumped out of my black Chevrolet.
Today was supposed to be perfect.
Today was supposed to be ours.
I tightened the balloons in one hand, the gift bags digging into my arm. I had been planning this for months, dreaming about the look on his face when he saw me.
It was our two-year wedding anniversary.
I smoothed my silk white dress, packed my hair into a slick bun just the way he loved it, and stared up at the giant building in front of me.
Aura Modeling.
The most luxurious modeling agency in all of New York.
The place reeked of old money, its walls practically dripping with luxury.
The floors outside blazed under the hot sun, the gold letters on the building flashing like treasure.
Aura wasn't just a building.
It was an empire.
It was my Damien's dreams.
Of course, I was there, helping him bring his dreams to reality.
I stepped inside.
A cool breeze kissed my face, bringing the sweet scent of flowers and strong fragrance.
Every click of my red-bottom Louboutins on the marble floor was sharp, controlled, and impossible to ignore.
I commanded attention without even trying.
Heads turned.
Whispers floated through the hall.
I felt it — the envy, the admiration, the side eyes, the hate.
It boosted my confidence even more.
I knew I looked beautiful.
My honey skin glowed under the lights.
Diamond studs in my ears.
Classy and elegant.
Exactly the woman Damien wanted me to be.
I walked straight to the front desk, chin high.
The secretary blinked twice, her mouth slightly open before she forced a fake smile.
I caught it, but I let it go.
"I'm here to see the CEO," I said sweetly, lifting the balloons a little higher.
"Do you have an appointment?" she asked, voice a little too tight.
I smiled wider. "Oh, I forgot to mention. I'm his wife."
Her face fell. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, "I think… I think there's been a mistake."
I laughed, thinking she was new. "Mistake? Honey, do you want to lose your job?"
She shook her head so fast it was almost funny. "No, ma…ma'am, but… based on the credentials… you don't look anything like the wife."
Her words sliced through me.
I stiffened. It felt like my whole life flickered through my eyes.
"What… did you just say?" My voice cracked.
The secretary looked terrified. Her eyes darted to the elevators, then back at me.
"I'm sorry. I really can't say more."
I narrowed my eyes. She was lying. Or at least hiding something.
She fidgeted with the edge of her tablet, like she wanted to say more but didn't dare.
"The CEO is in a closed meeting right now," she added quickly, voice hushed. "But… you can speak to his personal assistant. Fourth floor. Block F. She can explain everything."
The way she said everything made my stomach twist.
She knew.
She just couldn't be the one to say it.
I nodded stiffly, heart pounding against my ribs.
I walked away without another word.
The elevator ride felt endless, even though it was only seconds.
My reflection stared back at me in the polished chrome walls.
She's wrong, I told myself. She's just new. Mixing things up. She obviously doesn't know anything . Damien could never….
I stared at my reflection in the mirror — the perfect wife — and told myself over and over, She's wrong. She's wrong.
The elevator dinged.
I rushed down the hall, my heels echoing loudly.
There it was the Personal Assistant"s door.
I was about to knock and then I saw it. The door marked CEO.
I didn't think..
I pushed the door open.
And I wished I hadn't.
I froze.
Camilla — the woman I had asked about a hundred times — was perched on Damien's desk like she owned it.
Her lips were locked on his, her arms looped around his neck, her legs wrapped around his waist.
And he wasn't pulling away.
I stood frozen in the doorway.
The balloons slipped from my fingers, drifting slowly upward like pieces of my heart.
Damien broke the kiss first. His eyes widened in horror. "Sasha—Sasha, I can explain—"
Camilla didn't move. She turned her head lazily toward me, as if I were nothing more than an interruption.
Then she smiled.
"I told you to lock the door," she said to Damien, voice like honey dipped in venom.
She slid off the desk and smoothed her designer dress, her diamond bracelet catching the light.
"Sasha," Damien started, stepping toward me, "This—this isn't what you think—"
But Camilla cut him off. "Oh please, Damien, don't embarrass yourself."
She looked me over slowly, her eyes flicking from the wilted balloons to my white silk dress.
"You wore that?" she asked with mock sympathy. "God, you really thought today meant something, didn't you?"
I said nothing. I couldn't.
Camilla gave a theatrical sigh and stepped closer, flashing her ring like it was a trophy.
"We've been married for four years, sweetheart," she said smoothly. "He needed company, that's all you were. A time filler." "Now I'm back ,Unfortunately, your services are no longer needed".
She tilted her head, eyes glittering. "Though I do admire your commitment. The gifts, the hair, the effort… it's cute."
My chest tightened.
"You're lying," I whispered.
She smiled wider. "Oh, darling. If I wanted to lie, I wouldn't be wearing his ring."
Then she pressed one hand to her stomach, perfectly manicured fingers splaying over the curve.
"I'm eight months pregnant," she said. "With his child. Our real heir. The only one that matters."
My knees buckled.
Damien said nothing.
Not a single word.
Camilla turned to him with a little smirk. "By the way, I told PR to invite the media downstairs. It's time we tell our real story, don't you think?"
That's when I knew.
This wasn't just betrayal.
It was an execution.
I stumbled back.
I couldn't bear the humiliation.
I didn't care about the balloons anymore.
I didn't care about the gifts.
I just wanted love.
I just needed to breathe.
I flew down the stairs, ignoring the shouting behind me.
I pushed through the main doors.
And slammed right into a wall of flashing cameras.
The media was here.
Paparazzi.
Microphones shoved in my face.
"Sasha, how does it feel to be the homewrecker?"
"Did you know Damien was already married to Camilla?"
"How long have you been the other woman?"
"How does it feel to be a corpse bride?"
I froze.
The words blurred into noise.
Homewrecker.
Thief.
Liar.
Gold digger.
I felt like I was drowning.
I looked around for Damien — the man who said he loved me, the man who promised to protect me.
He wasn't there.
He left me alone to face the wolves.
I wanted to scream.
Cry.
Disappear.
I couldn't answer their questions. My vision was becoming blurred.
The tears flowed even more.
Then, out of nowhere, strong arms grabbed me.
A tall man.
Broad shoulders.
Caramel skin that glowed under the sun.
Gray sleepy eyes that somehow looked wide awake now.
He pulled me through the crowd, protecting me from the flashing lights.
He opened the door of a sleek black Rolls Royce and pushed me inside.
My breathing was ragged. Tears streamed down my face.
I stared at him, my vision was blurrier. "Who are you? Where are you taking me?"
He leaned closer, voice deep, calm.
"You're safe now. You're in good hands."
He wiped my tears with his thumb so gently it made me want to cry harder.
There was something about him… something familiar.
I should've been scared.
But all I felt was warmth.
He studied my face like he knew me from another lifetime.
"You don't deserve what he did to you," he said softly.
"You deserve better."
The car pulled away from Aura Modeling.
And with every mile, it felt like I was leaving a piece of my broken heart behind.
But what I didn't know then…
Was that the man who saved me wasn't just a stranger.