“Vivienne, darling,” she said warmly, her voice always gentle and kind. “We’re having a small birthday dinner for my husband tonight. I’d love for you and Elias to come.”
For a moment, I wanted to refuse. I didn’t want to see Adrian. I didn’t want to see any of them. But she had always treated me with kindness—the only person in that household who had ever made me feel like family.
So I agreed.
That evening, I arrived in a white dress, my hair neatly tied. I smiled when people greeted me, laughed politely at their small talk, and acted as though my life wasn’t crumbling. Adrian stood beside me, hand on my back, playing the role of the perfect husband.
We looked enviably happy, the kind of couple people admired.
But beneath the façade, his grip tightened, too tight, possessive.
“Come with me,” he whispered, teeth clenched.
He pulled me toward the balcony, away from prying eyes. The mask slipped.
“What’s wrong with you?” he hissed, voice low but seething. “Why are you acting so… strange tonight?”
I gave him a cold, measured look. “Strange?”
He stepped closer, jaw taut. “Did you tell your father something? Why was the merger postponed? You know how critical that deal is!”