My Husband's Affair, My Anniversary Gift

"You'll be my wife on paper only. You'll have everything—except my heart. You'll never be Marina." For five years, Lily lived as David's secret wife—his poised secretary by day, his invisible stand-in by night. Every cold touch reminded her she was just a replacement. Every whispered “Marina” cut deeper than the last. Then his ex returned. And without hesitation, David cast Lily aside like she meant nothing. So she did what she should have done years ago. She signed the divorce papers. She walked away. But now, David couldn't escape her absence. Her silence burned him in ways Marina never could. And suddenly, the man who swore he'd never love her was determined to get her back. By any means necessary. Even if it meant breaking her all over again. She paid the price for loving him once. Now, he'd pay for losing her forever. Chapter 1 Lily sighed as she finished another late night at the office—covering for Jenny, who had called in "sick" yet again. But when she finally dragged herself home and scrolled through social media, her stomach twisted. There was Jenny, cocktail in hand, laughing with a group of friends at some trendy bar. Of course. The realization stung. Jenny had never been her friend. Behind that sweet smile, she had been seething with envy over Lily's work ethic—and worse, spreading vicious rumors that Lily was sleeping with their boss, David. None of them knew the truth: she wasn't his mistress. She was his wife. Lily was used to the whispers, the sideways glances. She had learned to swallow the bitterness. But as she got ready for bed, her phone buzzed with a breaking news alert—a gossip headline splashed across the screen: "Billionaire CEO David Hardison Reunites with Ex-Girlfriend Marina at Exclusive Gala—Are Sparks Still There?" Her breath hitched. A photo beneath the caption showed David, devastatingly handsome in his tuxedo, standing close to the stunning socialite. Too close. Unlike the office rumors, this wasn't just petty gossip. This was David. Her husband. The man who, after five years of marriage, still looked at her with polite detachment rather than love. Except on the bed. A sob tore from her throat as the dam inside her broke. She crumpled onto the edge of the bed, tears streaming down her face. How could it still hurt this much? Lily had loved David Hardison from the moment she first saw him. Nine years ago, fresh out of university, she had joined Hardison Corp with starry-eyed ambition—only to have her breath stolen the instant David strode past her desk. Sharp suit. Colder eyes. A presence that commanded every room, every glance, every foolish heart. Including hers. But he'd been Marina's. Everyone knew he had been Marina's. Still, Lily stayed and became his secretary. She learned the rhythm of his moods, the way his jaw tightened before he fired someone, the rare, fleeting smirk when a deal went his way. And five years ago, when Marina vanished without a trace—leaving David shattered—Lily was the one who picked up the pieces. Literally. That night at the bar, David had been a wreck. Whiskey-soaked and hollow-eyed, he gripped her wrist like she was the only thing keeping him from drowning. Her heart shattered. But she knew her place. She was just his secretary. She drove him home, tending to him with quiet efficiency, careful not to overstep. But as she turned to fetch a fresh towel, he pinned her against the wall and kissed her with a feverish, bruising intensity—as if she were someone else. Lily tried to resist. But the raw agony in his eyes broke her. And so, she let him take her—rough, reckless. And when she woke the next morning—naked, aching, his scent still on her skin—he stood by the window, smoke curling from his cigarette as he tossed a contract onto the rumpled sheets. "Read it. Sign it." Her fingers shook as she lifted the paper. Marriage Contract. Terms: Wife in name only. No emotional attachments. No expectations. Duration: Until Marina returns. Lily's throat closed. "Mr. Hardison, you don't owe me anything. Last night was—" A dark chuckle cut her off. He turned, and the look in his eyes froze her blood. "Don't flatter yourself. This isn't about responsibility." He crushed his cigarette, his voice merciless. "My mother wants me to be married. She likes you. And I need a placeholder." "You'll be my wife on paper only. You'll have everything—except my heart. You'll never be Marina." The words hung between them, sharp as a blade. Lily knew the rules and she'd never hold his heart. But four years of loving him in silence had carved hope too deep to ignore. Maybe, whispered the foolish part of her, if I stay long enough, he'll see me. So she signed. And for five long years, she learned the torment of being a placeholder. By day, she was his flawless secretary—polite, professional, invisible. By night, she was his warm body in the dark—a silent substitute for the woman he truly wanted. And every time he groaned "Marina" into her skin, Lily died a little more. Lily's fingers trembled as she adjusted the straps of her silk nightgown, the champagne-colored fabric clinging to her curves. She had bought it weeks ago, imagining David's reaction—Would his eyes darken? Would he finally see her? A key turned in the front door. Her breath hitched. David strode in, his tailored suit jacket slung over one shoulder, tie loosened. The scent of his cologne—smoky sandalwood and sin—flooded the room before he even spotted her. Then his gaze locked onto her, and his steps faltered. A muscle twitched in his jaw. "What's this?" Lily lifted her chin, her pulse racing. "Five years today." A beat of silence. Then his mouth curled—not in a smile, but a challenge. He closed the distance in three strides, his fingers tangling in her hair, tilting her head back. "Expecting a celebration?" Before she could answer, his mouth crashed down on hers. His kiss was all heat and hunger, teeth scraping her lower lip, tongue claiming hers with a possessiveness that made her knees buckle. She gasped as he backed her against the wall, his hands sliding down to grip her thighs, hitching her up until her legs wrapped around his waist. "David—" "Quiet." His voice was rough, his breath hot against her throat as he bit down where her pulse fluttered. "You wanted my attention? You've got it." Every rational thought evaporated. This—the way he manhandled her, the growl in his voice—was the David she craved. The one who burned the world down for what he wanted. And for tonight, she was what he wanted. His hands tore at the flimsy silk, his mouth leaving bruising kisses down her collarbone. When he carried her to the bed, she arched into him, her legs sissored around his waist. "Look at me," he demanded, pinning her wrists above her head. Her breath came in shallow pants as she obeyed. His eyes were black with lust, but beneath it—was that something else? A flicker of… recognition? Hope flared in her chest— Then he buried himself inside her with a groan, claiming her hard. Lily arched against him, nails raking down his back, meeting his thrusts with a desperation she had never allowed herself before. Maybe tonight. Maybe this time— His breath hitched, his rhythm faltering—a telltale sign. With a final snap of his hips, he spilled inside her, his body shuddering against hers. And then, on a ragged exhale: "Marina." The name punched through Lily's chest like a blade. As if summoned, David's phone rang—Marina's custom tone, a lilting piano melody Lily had come to dread. David rolled off her in an instant, grabbing the phone. His voice, moments ago rough with desire, softened into something tender. "Hey. Yeah, I'm here." Lily lay frozen, the sheets tangled around her legs, his release still warm between her thighs. She watched his back—the taut muscles, the faint scars she had traced with her lips a thousand times—as he paced to the window, his laughter low and intimate. "Miss me already?" The contrast was cruel. With Lily, he was all sharp edges and demands. With Marina, he melted. When he hung up, the silence was suffocating. Lily sat up, clutching the ruined silk to her chest. "She's back." Not a question. David didn't look at her. "We reconnected last month." Last month. While Lily had been marking their anniversary on the calendar like a fool. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. "I'll pack my things. I can be out of the penthouse by—" "Stay." He finally turned, his expression unreadable. "Marina doesn't like used spaces. She won't come here." Used. The word lodged in Lily's heart like a shard of glass. Her fingers dug into the mattress, nails scraping against silk as she watched him dress with mechanical efficiency—tie knotted with military precision, cufflinks snapped into place. He didn't glance back. Didn't hesitate. The front door clicked shut with surgical finality. Five years of marriage. Not even a "thank you." She was a placeholder, temporary solution. And now that his real love had returned? It was time for her to step aside. Chapter 2 The master bedroom smelled like him—that intoxicating blend of sandalwood and cold indifference. Lily stood in the doorway, her suitcase wheels catching on the threshold like a final protest. Five years. Five years of stolen moments in this gilded cage. They had fucked against every surface—the mahogany desk, the shower glass, the very spot where her knees now threatened to buckle. But they had never made love. Not once. Her packing took less than ten minutes. How pathetic, that a marriage could be undone faster than the time it took David to choose a tie each morning. The suitcase—bought new for their honeymoon, still faintly dusty from disuse—gaped open like a wound. She filled it only with what she had brought: a few books, the pearl earrings her mother left her, the silk nightgown he had once torn off her without looking at the color. The study smelled of his Cuban cigars and betrayal. There, in the top drawer where he kept his whiskey and condoms, lay the divorce papers. Prepared before they got married. A contingency plan for Marina's inevitable return. Lily signed without trembling. The pen glided smoothly as the knife he had slid between her ribs for half a decade. She had come to him willingly. She left with equal resolve. No tears. No dramatics. Just the quiet unraveling of a dream she should have abandoned the first time he had whispered another woman's name into her hair. The front door clicked shut behind her. Rain lashed the pavement as she hailed a cab. The droplets streaked the windows like the tears she refused to shed. "Where to?" the driver asked. The question froze her. Leave. Just leave. That had been her only thought. But now, faced with the reality—she had nowhere to go. No home. No family. Her mother had died bringing her into this world. Her father's remarriage had brought only a stepmother whose mistreatment cut deeper than cruelty. Her childhood had been a nightmare. The only peace she had ever known were those fleeting years with David—years she now realized were just another kind of solitude. She had severed ties with her own family for him, unwilling to let their dysfunction touch his world. And what had it earned her? A divorce paper signed before marriage. A husband who used her merely as a sex toy. "Where to?" The driver's voice sharpened as horns blared behind them. Panic tightened her throat. Then, before she could think— "Noa's apartment. 27 Willow Lane." The name escaped like a confession. Noa, her best friend since high school. The woman who had gripped her shoulders the day she signed that contract marriage, eyes blazing: "You'll regret this, Lily. He'll destroy you." And like a fool, she had laughed it off. Now, with the divorce papers heavy in her bag and the taxi meter counting away her old life, Lily finally believed it. The clock ticked 12:17 AM when Lily appeared at Noa's doorstep. Rainwater dripped from her hair onto the welcome mat—Noa's joke gift from last Christmas: "Go Away Unless You Have Wine." Her knuckles hovered, trembling. The door flew open before she could knock. Noa stood there in rumpled pajamas, her sleep-mussed braids swinging as she jerked fully awake. "Jesus Christ, Lily—" Her voice cracked when she saw Lily's shattered expression, the death-grip on her suitcase. "You look like you walked out of a fucking horror movie." Lily's attempt at a smile twisted into something broken. "I didn't... know where else..." The words dissolved like sugar in whiskey. Noa didn't ask. She just yanked her inside, kicking the door shut with her bare foot. "You're fucking freezing." Her hands—always warm, always steady—rubbed Lily's icy arms. "Where's your coat? Scratch that—where's your common sense?" The suitcase thudded to the floor. Lily stared at it, numb. Five years of marriage reduced to one wheeled carry-on. Noa swore under her breath and manhandled her onto the couch. "Move and I'll duct tape you here." She vanished into the kitchen, banging cabinets with unnecessary violence. Lily sat. The apartment smelled like Noa's vanilla candle wax and takeout—real life, not David's sterile mansion. Her fingers traced a coffee stain on the cushion. Proof that people actually lived here. A chipped "World's Best Accountant" mug (a gag gift from Lily) appeared under her nose. Chamomile steam curled between them. Noa didn't do it gently, but her hands were careful as she wrapped Lily's around the heat. "Drink. Then talk. Or don't. But hydrate, you tragic heroine." The tea scalded Lily's tongue. Good. Pain meant she still felt. Noa perched beside her, knee bouncing. Waiting. "I signed them," Lily whispered to the tea leaves. "The divorce papers." Noa went statue-still. "Marina's back." The words came out strangled. The tea rippled—her hands were shaking now. "They're… together." A tear plopped into the mug. Then another. Silent. Efficient. Like she had practiced this moment in the mirror for years. Noa exploded off the couch. She didn't miss the bruise-like love bites peeking above Lily's collar. If David had chosen Marina, why leave marks like claim staked on condemned land? "Fuck that emotionally stunted bastard—" She kicked the coffee table so hard a magazine slid off. "I'll burn Hardison Corp to the ground. I'll—" "It doesn't matter." Lily's voice surprised them both—hollow as a picked-clean bone. "I know he never loved me. And I promised him. The contract..." Noa whirled, eyes blazing. "That contract was emotional blackmail and you know it—" She bit off the rest, fists clenching. Because they had had this argument before. Many times. The silence stretched. The radiator hissed. Somewhere downstairs, a dog barked. Finally, Noa sat. Not touching, but close. "Okay," she said, exhaling hard. "Okay. Fuck him. His loss." She gently hugged Lily, her tone firm, "I've got you. You're home now." Tears burst out, and Lily curled into Noa's side, her tea cooling between them. Outside, the rain slowed to a drizzle. The world kept turning. And for the first time in five years—so did Lily. *** The next day, Lily went to work as usual. The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, revealing Jenny's smug face. "Oh, Lily," Jenny chirped, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "You're such an angel for covering my shift last night." Her manicured fingers fluttered near her chest in mock gratitude. "But then again," she added with a poisonous smile, "it's not like you have much of a personal life to interfere, do you?" "Did you see the news? David's real love is back." She leaned in, her perfume cloying. "And everyone bets he'll propose to her soon." Jenny's painted lips curled in triumph. "Face it—you'll never be the one to win David's heart." Lily's grip tightened on her bag, but her voice remained ice-cold. "Funny, coming from someone who couldn't even handle a simple report without faking a migraine." She stepped past Jenny without another glance, leaving the other woman gaping. At her desk, Lily mechanically sorted through emails, her movements precise, practiced. The resignation letter in her bag weighed heavily against her hip—a burden, yet also a promise of freedom. She couldn't stay. Not after last night. Not when every glance at David would remind her of Marina's triumphant return. Today would be the last time she made his coffee. The ritual began without thought—measuring the exact 17 grams of Ethiopian beans, heating the water to 96°C, and timing the 30-second bloom. She had perfected this routine like she had perfected everything else about being Mrs. Hardison—the silent wife, the flawless secretary, the warm body in the dark. The first time he had praised her coffee, she had clung to that scrap of approval like a lifeline. Maybe if I perfect this, she had thought, he'll see me. What a fool she had been. Steeling herself, she pushed open his office door—only to freeze. David wasn't at his desk. Instead, Marina lounged in his leather chair like a queen on a throne, her manicured fingers tracing the edge of his polished mahogany desk. She looked up, a slow, feline smile spreading across her lips. "Oh, Lily," she purred. "I've heard about you." Chapter 3 "David’s secretary," Marina drawled, rising from his chair with deliberate grace. Her eyes raked over Lily with slow, calculated disdain—from her sensible heels to her neatly pinned-up hair. "Hmm. I don’t see what all the fuss is about." Lily kept her expression neutral, though her fingers tightened around the coffee tray. "Can I help you with something, Ms. Laurent?" Marina smirked, circling her like a predator. "Oh, I’m just… assessing the competition." She paused, tapping a manicured nail against David’s desk. "Tell me, how does it feel? Playing house with someone else’s man for five years?" Lily didn’t flinch. "If you’re referring to my work, all records are up to date. Would you like me to pull the files?" Marina’s smile faltered. She hadn’t expected such precision—such competence. The realization sharpened her voice. "Cute. But we both know you were just a placeholder." She leaned in, her whisper venomous. "David told me everything. How lonely he was. How… convenient you were." She smirked. "Did you really think he’d settle for a glorified coffee girl?" Lily’s pulse roared in her ears, but her reply was steady. "Our arrangement is over. And since this is a workplace, I suggest we keep things professional. Mr. Hadison dislikes distractions." "Ooh, listen to you," Marina mocked, eyes flashing. "Like you know him so well." She snatched the coffee cup from the tray, swirling the dark liquid. "Let me guess—Ethiopian beans? Ninety-six degrees? Pathetic. You could brew this every day for a lifetime, and he’d still never—" Footsteps echoed in the hall. Before Lily could react, Marina tipped the scalding coffee over her own hand. "Ahh!" she gasped, dropping the cup with a clatter just as David strode in. Lily’s breath caught. The scene was unmistakable: Marina cradling her reddened wrist, tears glistening on her lashes, and Lily standing frozen—holding an empty tray. Marina’s voice trembled with practiced hurt. "David… she—she poured it on me!" David's head snapped toward Lily, his expression darkening like a thundercloud. "Lily!" His voice cracked through the office like a whip. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" Lily stood frozen, the empty tray still clutched in her hands. Her lips parted in stunned disbelief. "I didn't—" "Enough!" David cut her off sharply. "You think just because you've worked here for years, you can do whatever you want? That I'd tolerate you attacking someone?" Lily's hands trembled. "David, she poured it on herself... I didn't do anything." "She poured it on herself?" His laugh was harsh, disbelieving. "Marina treats her hands like they're made of gold. You really expect me to buy that pathetic excuse?" "It's the truth—" Her voice wavered, thick with hurt. "Apologize." His command left no room for argument. "I won't apologize for something I didn't do." David's jaw tightened. "Then you'll face the consequences." Before Lily could react, he snatched the wine bottle from his desk and upended it over her head. Ice-cold liquor drenched her hair, streaming down her face, and soaking into her blouse. The sharp scent of alcohol filled the air as droplets splattered onto the floor. Across the room, Marina's lips curled in triumph—though she quickly schooled her features into false concern. "David, darling, it's not worth getting so upset..." she murmured, fanning the flames even as she pretended to soothe them. David barely glanced at Lily again, his attention already shifting to Marina's reddened hand. "Let's get you to the hospital," he said tightly, guiding her toward the door with a protective hand at her back. As they swept past, Lily stood motionless, liquor still dripping from her chin. The office had gone deathly quiet—every colleague frozen in their cubicles, eyes wide with shock. The office buzzed with whispers the rest of the morning. Lily could feel the stares burning into her back as she worked—pitying, mocking, triumphant. She was in the restroom cleaning the last traces of wine from her collar when Jenny's unmistakable giggle echoed off the tiles. "—wish you'd seen her face when Mr. Hadison dumped that drink on her!" Jenny crowed to her gaggle of followers. "All these years playing the perfect secretary, and look how he treats his little pet." "We should celebrate tonight," another voice chimed in. "Finally, the gold-digger gets what she deserves." Lily's reflection in the mirror stared back at her—hair still damp, eyes red-rimmed but dry. Something inside her snapped. She yanked the decorative watering can from the windowsill and flung the contents in a wide arc. A chorus of shrieks filled the air as Jenny and her cronies stumbled back, dripping. "You crazy bitch!" Jenny screeched, mascara running down her cheeks. "No," Lily said calmly, setting the can down with a clink. "Just returning the favor for all those times I covered your incompetence." "Let's see—" She ticked off on her fingers. "You can't format a spreadsheet without breaking the formulas, Claire's reports are always late, and Sophie—" A cold smile. "Well, we all know who actually writes your presentations." “So what?" Jenny still had no guilt. "Blame yourself for being so stupid!" Lily caught Jenny's wrist mid-swing and shoved—hard. The other woman went sprawling on the wet tiles. "Go ahead, report me," Lily said, hoisting her bag onto her shoulder. "My resignation's already on David's desk. I'm more interested in seeing how long before he realizes none of you can handle your own projects." Then she turned her heels toward the hallway. When Lily walked out of the building, the afternoon sun glared unforgivingly bright. Lily pulled out her phone and typed with steady fingers: "David - The signed divorce papers are on your desk. P.S. You'll need a new secretary." Then she hit send. Chapter 4 The message arrived mid-afternoon: brief, coldly formal, unmistakably David. "Dinner. 7 PM. Delphina's. Dress accordingly." Lily hadn't expected the invitation. She stared at the text for a long moment, thumbs hovering. Delphina's? The same five-star restaurant he had once mentioned taking her to after the successful completion of Project A. He never did. Business had gotten in the way. Marina's return had taken priority. But now, here it was months later. Why now? She didn't answer the message. She just showed up at 7 sharp, dressed in a sleek black dress she'd bought two years ago on impulse, back when she still hoped he'd take her somewhere nice without a reason. She'd left the tag on until tonight. The waiters greeted her with reverent familiarity, guiding her through the quiet restaurant to a table near the tall windows. The place was empty. Every seat, every table, every candle belonged to them. A candlelit dinner, booked exclusively for two. David sat waiting, impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit, tie loose, eyes unreadable. He didn't even look at her when she arrived. She also said nothing, taking her seat across from him. A glass of wine already waited beside her plate. He poured himself a drink, swirling it like this was a routine thing. "You booked a whole restaurant," she said flatly, "for a woman you don't love." He paused, lifting the glass to his lips. "You earned this dinner. You handled Project A flawlessly. Better than my executives." "So this is… professional gratitude?" He finally met her gaze. "Why? Are you expecting something else too?" Lily laughed to herself. Did she have the right to expect anything from him? The waiter came, stiff and silent, serving course after course as if this were any ordinary anniversary dinner. But it wasn't. The air between them hummed with things unsaid. David talked a little about work—brief updates, short remarks. She responded with polite nods, eyes scanning the flickering candlelight like it held answers. When dessert came—a dark chocolate ganache with spiced raspberry coulis—Lily's phone buzzed. It was a message from Noa. "Stocks dropping. Marina scandal is everywhere. Someone leaked the gala photos." "He's using the dinner to delay the divorce announcement. Protecting his company. Not you." Lily's stomach turned. The chocolate turned to ash in her mouth. Of course. This wasn't romance. It was damage control. She set her spoon down. "You could've just asked me to cooperate. You didn't need this elaborate dinner." David's expression shifted, just slightly. "I thought you'd appreciate the gesture." "I might've, if it were genuine." He leaned back in his chair, watching her. "So. You've heard." "I have eyes, Mr. Hardison, and ears too." The flicker of tension darkened his gaze. "You want to discuss this here?" Lily folded her napkin carefully. "You can delay the public announcement. I won't go to the press. I'll play along if that helps. But the divorce goes on." His jaw flexed. "Why are you in such a rush now?" His voice was low, tightly controlled. "You were perfectly fine being my wife for five years. Knowing I loved someone else, you slept with me and married me. Willingly." "I was a fool," she said quietly. "No," he snapped, "you were desperate. Don't act like this was some noble sacrifice. You wanted something. And you got it." Her eyes narrowed. "What exactly do you think I wanted?" "You tell me," he said coldly. "Power? Status? Money? You knew I wasn't offering love. You still signed that contract. So don't give me this teary victim act now." She stood, slowly, deliberately. "I stayed because I hoped," she said. "Hoped one day you'd see me. Not as a placeholder. Not as a secretary. But as a person. A woman who gave you everything she had, even when you never asked." His laugh was bitter. "Spare me the monologue. If this is about money, my lawyers can increase the settlement." Lily's fingers curled into fists. The anger built like a storm breaking in her chest. "You think everything's about money," she whispered. "That's the only language you understand, isn't it?" David didn't flinch. "It's the only language that gets things done." Without thinking, without warning, Lily slapped him. The crack of palm against cheek echoed through the empty restaurant like a gunshot. The waiter dropped a fork somewhere behind the bar. A candle flickered dangerously. David didn't move. His head stayed turned, a red mark blooming on his cheek. His expression unreadable. Lily's breath came in fast, ragged pulls. Her pulse throbbed in her temples. "I'm done," she hissed, grabbing her clutch. "This time, for real." She turned too fast. Her elbow knocked the tall glass vase beside her. It teetered, then toppled, water and orchids spilling toward the floor. Before she could flinch, David lunged. His arm wrapped around her waist, yanking her back just as the vase shattered inches from her feet. A shard bounced off his forearm, slicing through fabric and skin. "Shit," he muttered. Lily stared at him, stunned. "You're bleeding..." "I've had worse." He looked down, checking her legs, her hands. "You okay?" She nodded, still breathless. He let her go a second later, stepping back like the moment never happened. The waiter appeared with towels. David dismissed him with a glance. Blood soaked through the cuff of his white shirt, dripping along his wrist. Lily grabbed a napkin and reached for him. "Let me..." "I said I'm fine." "David..." He caught her wrist, firm but not harsh. His eyes locked onto hers. "You don't get to slap me and then play the caring wife," he said. "You don't get to accuse me of gold-digging and then throw yourself in front of a flying vase." They stood like that—motionless, bound by years of silence and buried truths. Then David's grip loosened. Chapter 5 Lily never expected David to risk his life for her. Now, seated in the hospital room, watching the doctor clean and dress the gash across his shoulder, her stomach twisted into a tight knot. Guilt, confusion, and something softer—something terrifyingly close to affection—churned together inside her chest. The antiseptic smell hung thick in the room. The monitor beeped steadily, and David sat still, only flinching slightly when the cotton swab touched raw skin. Lily stood a little away, her arms wrapped around her midsection, her teeth worrying her lower lip. She hadn't said much since they arrived. Neither had he. The doctor finished the dressing, then glanced toward Lily. "He'll be fine, but he needs rest and careful attention. You're his wife, aren't you?" Lily opened her mouth but didn't know what to say. "She is," David said flatly before she could respond. "Make sure she knows how to take care of the wound." The doctor nodded and began explaining the medication schedule and dressing changes. Lily listened carefully, her hands trembling just a little as she took the instructions. Once they were alone again, the silence stretched. Lily turned to him. "Why did you do that?" David raised an eyebrow. "What?" "You got hurt. For me." He let out a humorless chuckle. "Don't flatter yourself." Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not, I'm trying to understand. You didn't have to..." "You were in the way," he muttered, looking away. "It was a reflex." Lily stared at him. "That's a poor excuse for someone who just threw himself in front of a falling vase." His eyes met hers again, colder now. "It doesn't matter why I did it. You're safe. That's all." His words sounded noble, but something inside her cracked. She wasn't stupid. She'd seen the panic in his eyes when she stumbled, the way he hadn't hesitated even for a second. That wasn't just reflex. It couldn't be. But before she could press further, the door flung open. "David!" A shrill, high-pitched voice echoed in the room. Marina walked in like a storm wrapped in silk and perfume, her heels tapping loudly against the floor, her eyes taking in the scene like a snake spotting prey. Her gaze flicked between David on the hospital bed and Lily standing near him. "Well, isn't this cozy," she sneered. Lily instinctively stepped back. "Marina," David said warningly, his voice low. "You got injured and instead of calling me"—she emphasized the word like poison on her tongue—"you're here playing house with her?" "I didn't call anyone," David said flatly. "She was there." Marina ignored him. She was only getting started. "Of course she was. This bitch is always around when something goes wrong! You're nothing but a shameless homewrecker, you know that? You think pretending to be caring will bring him back to you?" Lily stayed silent. The insult stung more than it should have. "She's here because she's my secretary," David said sharply. "And I don't need to explain myself to you." Marina's eyes widened, then narrowed. "So she still matters that much? You'd rather protect her than me?" "I'd protect anyone in danger. A stranger. A cat. Even a dog," David said, his tone ice-cold. "Don't confuse basic decency with affection." Lily's throat closed up. Of course. That was all she was. A cat. A dog. Just another soul on the street he happened to save because he had a 'moral duty.' Just moments ago, she had almost believed—almost hoped—he might still care. But hearing him lump her with stray animals... "Got it," she whispered. Her hands shook slightly, but she forced them still. "Thanks for clearing that up." She turned toward the door. But before she could leave, Marina grabbed her arm. "Wait." Lily looked back, frowning. "I ordered some nutritious meals for David. Organic, specially curated by his dietician. I... I don't know the roads around this hospital. Can you pick them up for me? I would, but I don't want to get lost." Lily stared at her. Seriously? "You think I'm your errand girl now?" "Just do it," Marina shrugged with a fake smile. "You're already here. You took responsibility for his injury, right? Fetching some food isn't too much to ask." Lily glanced at David. He didn't meet her eyes. He leaned back against the pillow, closing his eyes as if none of this involved him at all. That was enough. She exhaled slowly and nodded. "Fine." If this was what it took to erase the guilt, she'd do it. Marina gave her a note with the address. "Don't take too long. David hates cold food." Lily didn't respond. She walked out of the room, feeling her legs tremble slightly under her weight. She didn't know why her chest hurt so much. Maybe she really was just a street dog in David's eyes. But this street dog was finally learning. Not to love. But to let go. Chapter 6 The city was sweltering under the streetlights when Lily stepped out of the hospital. David had been injured protecting her, and no matter how cruel his words were, she couldn't ignore the pain behind them. First, she went to the east side of town for some rare mushroom broth. Then, just as she paid, Marina called again. "Oh, Lily, I forgot to mention David prefers steamed herbal soups now. There's a new place in the west. Can you grab those too?" Marina's voice was syrupy sweet over the phone, hiding the steel underneath. Lily hesitated, glancing at the heavy bags in her hand. "I already....." "Don't forget you are his secretary, this is your job," Marina interrupted coldly. Lily gritted her teeth. "Fine." By the time she returned to the hospital, her clothes clung to her like a second skin, her arms ached from the weight of the food, and sweat matted her hair to her forehead. But nothing could've prepared her for what she saw through the slightly ajar ward door. David, leaning comfortably against the bed, laughing softly as Marina fed him a spoonful of something from a bowl. His expression was relaxed, even fond—a side of him Lily hadn't seen in years. Her chest tightened. "You already ate?" she asked, stepping inside. David looked up, startled. Marina's eyes widened not in guilt, but in victory. "I didn't know you'd take so long," she said flatly. Lily dropped the bags onto the nearby table with a loud thud. "Are you serious right now? You sent me to the east, then called me halfway and made me go to the west. I've been running around town while you two were in here... enjoying takeout?" Marina put on her best 'guilty' face. "I'm so sorry, Lily. I had no idea his tastes had changed while I was gone. I thought he still liked the old recipes." Lily scoffed, unmoved. "Spare me the performance." "Lily," David's tone hardened, "that's enough." "Oh, please don't be upset," Marina whimpered, tears welling in her eyes. "I won't let your effort go to waste. If you can forgive me, I'll eat it all myself—every bite." She dramatically reached for the container of mushroom soup, unscrewing the lid. Lily stared at her. Was this woman for real? The theatrics, the crocodile tears—it was laughable. But there was nothing funny about the way David looked at her, as if she were the unreasonable one. "You don't have to force yourself," Lily said coldly. "I don't care what you do with it." She turned to leave, her throat tight with anger and humiliation. Behind her, she heard the rustle of plastic and the clatter of chopsticks. "I mean it," Marina said. "I'll eat it all...see?" Lily glanced back just in time to see Marina stuffing food into her mouth, exaggerated and showy. In that moment, it seemed more like a performance than a genuine gesture. Lily narrowed her eyes, the words what is she playing at forming in her mind. But then, Marina froze. Her eyes widened. The color drained from her face. One hand clutched her throat. "Marina?" David's voice rose sharply. Marina stumbled to her feet, gasping. "Can't... breathe..." she choked, her face swelling rapidly, red blotches erupting across her skin. "Call a doctor!" David shouted, already on his feet. Lily's heart plummeted into her stomach. "Oh my god..." she whispered, stunned. A nurse rushed in with a crash cart, shouting orders. David swept Marina into his arms and ran with her down the hallway toward the ER, barking for help. Lily followed, legs moving before she could think. But just outside the emergency wing, David turned around and faced her. His expression was venomous. "You fed her that," he hissed. "You knew she was allergic to mushrooms." "What? No... I didn't know!" Lily stammered, her throat closing. "I swear I didn't know!" "She almost died!" he snapped. He stepped closer. "If anything happens to her... anything... I will press charges. Understand that clearly." His words hit her like a slap. Lily took a step back, hands shaking. "You think I poisoned her?" He didn't answer. He didn't need to. The raw accusation in his eyes said everything. The silence between them stretched for long seconds until the sound of nurses and doctors shuffling in and out of Marina's room broke the standoff. Lily's breath caught. Her hands trembled. David had already turned away, storming into the emergency room. She hadn't done anything. She didn't even know Marina was allergic to mushrooms. It wasn't her who had told Marina to eat it. Lily closed her eyes and remembered the last thing Marina had said before stuffing the food into her mouth: "As long as you can forgive me, I'll eat it all." What kind of person said that? And who ate something they knew they were allergic to? Unless... Unless they wanted something to happen. A scene. A weapon to use. A plan. The idea chilled Lily more than the night wind. One thing had become clear. Marina had orchestrated this to turn David against her, and she had succeeded. Lily stood frozen in the hallway as the door shut behind him. Her chest ached, but this time it wasn't from fatigue. It was from the sharp realization that no matter what she did... she would always be the villain in David's eyes. Chapter 7 Lily stepped into Noa's apartment, the soft click of the door closing behind her doing little to muffle the storm inside her chest. Her hands trembled as she removed her shoes, her mind replaying the scene at the hospital on a never-ending loop—the moment Marina's body jerked in reaction to the allergen, the panicked shout from David, the sheer terror of being accused, and worst of all, the cold fury in David's eyes as he pointed at her. "You're home," Noa said, emerging from the kitchen, wiping her hands with a dishtowel. She frowned as she looked at Lily. "What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost." "I might as well have," Lily murmured, lowering herself onto the couch as if all the energy had been drained from her bones. Noa sat beside her, waiting quietly. Lily told Noa everything: the wild goose chase across the city to buy specific dishes, the discovery that David and Marina had already eaten, the theatrical performance Marina put on, and finally, the allergic reaction that landed her in the ER. She left nothing out, including David's harsh words and his threat of criminal charges. Noa leaned back slowly, a stunned silence filling the space between them. Then, as if someone had pressed a switch, her face contorted in disgust. "Marina is a damn drama queen!" she barked. "She knew exactly what she was doing, playing the victim as always. And David..." Her jaw clenched. "What a shameless scumbag. After everything you've done for him, he throws that kind of accusation in your face? Screw him." Lily didn't respond. Her fingers curled around the throw pillow on her lap, clinging to it as if it might anchor her back to sanity. "I need to leave," she finally whispered. "I can't take this anymore. I need to get away from him. Completely." Noa nodded without hesitation. "Then let's do it. Find another job. Start fresh." And she did. The very next morning, Lily pulled her laptop into her lap and began submitting resumes to every company she could find—small firms, start-ups, even multinationals in far-off districts. She poured her energy into her applications, tailoring cover letters, adjusting CVs, and even reaching out to former acquaintances in the industry. But as the days went by, a chilling pattern began to emerge. We're sorry, Ms Collins. At this time, we are not considering applicants affiliated with Hardison Corporation. We regret to inform you that your candidacy has been declined. We value your experience, but unfortunately, we are unable to proceed. One after another—rejections. After three straight days and over a dozen applications, the truth became impossible to ignore. "They're scared of him," Lily said hollowly one evening, staring at her inbox. "They're scared of David. No one wants to poach his secretary and face his wrath." Noa was pacing the room by then, running a hand through her messy hair. "Unbelievable! He's blocking your path even when he's the one who pushed you away! He doesn't want you, but he doesn't want anyone else to have you, either! What kind of twisted game is he playing?" "I don't know," Lily said quietly. "But I can't live in this limbo. I need to breathe." That night, Noa slammed her hands on the table with enough force to rattle the mugs. "That's it. We're going out." Lily blinked at her. "What?" "You heard me. We're going to a bar. We'll drink, dance, and forget David Hardison exists. You've been moping for days. It's time to live a little." A reluctant laugh escaped her. "You just want an excuse to party." "I want you to feel like yourself again," she said, softer now. "You deserve that much." And surprisingly, Lily agreed. With David silent these last few days and Marina likely recovering in comfort somewhere, she had no reason to sit at home wallowing in misery. She had every right to move on. Noa chose a trendy bar in the heart of the city—a place she claimed had "good music, bad decisions, and excellent cocktails." When they arrived, the place was already buzzing with energy. Neon lights flickered overhead, the bass thumped beneath their feet, and the scent of citrus, perfume, and spilled alcohol hung in the air. At first, Lily stayed close to the bar, sipping a fruit-flavored cocktail while Noa mingled and cracked jokes. But after her second drink and a little coaxing, she let Noa drag her onto the dance floor. The music vibrated through her bones, washing over her like a wave. For a while, she forgot—forgot the accusations, the betrayals, the invisible leash David still seemed to hold around her neck. She lost herself in the rhythm, in the laughter, in the glittering world where nothing mattered but now. Until she saw him. Chapter 8 The music inside the bar thumped like a heartbeat, heavy and relentless, but Lily no longer felt the rhythm. The moment she caught David's cold gaze from across the dance floor, something inside her deflated. Her steps faltered, the song fading in her ears even though it was still playing loud and fast. There, standing just a few feet away near the entrance, was David. And beside him, arm-in-arm and looking as smug as ever, was Marina. The sight of them together hit her like a punch to the stomach. David's eyes found hers almost instantly. His expression didn't change—calm, cold, unreadable. Marina, on the other hand, spotted Lily and immediately tightened her grip on David's arm, as if marking her territory. Lily stepped back, bumping into another dancer. Lily's heart pounded in her chest. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind. Did he follow her? Was this a coincidence? Did Marina bring him here on purpose? David didn't approach. He simply stood there, watching her like a predator sizing up its prey. But Lily stood her ground. No, she thought. Why should I leave? This was my night. I came here to breathe, to live. She looked directly at David, chin lifting slightly, and without breaking eye contact, she turned back toward the crowd and continued dancing. Every move became sharper, freer, louder. She wasn't just dancing—she was declaring something. You can't control me anymore. With just a sharp flick of indifference, he turned and walked toward the VIP section, Marina clinging to his side like ivy wrapping around a dying tree. Noa came back with drinks, two tall glasses glinting under the club lights, and saw the sudden shift in Lily's face. "Hey, what happened?" she asked, looking in the direction of Lily's gaze. "I don't feel like dancing anymore," Lily murmured, taking the drink with both hands but not sipping. Her fingers were trembling faintly. Noa followed her eyes and grimaced. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered. "What is he doing here? Can't that witch just fall into a manhole already?" Lily gave a dry laugh, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I think I need to use the restroom." "You want me to go with—?" "No. I'll be fine," she said softly, brushing past the crowd toward the hallway. The restroom was cooler, quieter—like stepping into a different world. Lily splashed cold water on her face and stared at her reflection. She looked tired. Not in the sleepless sort of way, but the kind of exhaustion that weighed on the soul. It wasn't just about David anymore. It was about everything—being stuck, being unwanted in every job application, being controlled like a pawn in someone else's game. And David… he had made himself clear. He would eat happily with Marina, flaunt her presence in public, sabotage Lily's job prospects behind the scenes, and still act as if he owned her life. Pathetic, she thought. You're pathetic. Lily turned away from the mirror, wiped her hands with a paper towel, and exited the restroom. As she turned back down the hallway, wiping her lip clean, she didn't expect him to be standing there—leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching her like a lion sizing up its prey. She had come here to let go, to breathe, to remind herself that life existed outside of David. And yet he showed up like a shadow she couldn't escape. "Didn't expect to see you here, Lily," he said, his voice low and mocking. "Or is this your new job? Seducing men at bars?" Lily stopped in her tracks, blinking. The insult cut sharper than expected. "Excuse me?" David tilted his head with a cold smile. "You were dancing like your life depended on it. Makes me wonder—were you hoping some rich guy would offer you a job... or a bed?" Her cheeks burned, not from shame but fury. "First of all, I wasn't seducing anyone. And second, maybe if you hadn't gone around blacklisting me, I wouldn't have to be out here trying to forget what a miserable boss you are!" David's smirk didn't fade. In fact, it deepened. "Why would I let someone I trained walk out and possibly leak everything she knows to a competitor?" He stepped closer, the air between them growing heavier. "Do you think I'm that stupid?" "You're not stupid," Lily hissed. "You're just cruel." He leaned closer, their faces only inches apart. "No," he said huskily, "I trained you. Every report, every file, every coffee order—perfect. And... even your performance in bed... You think that was just business? You think I didn't notice how close you stood? How you bit your lip when you were nervous? Or how your voice always softened when you said my name?" Her breath caught. Her anger snapped. With a burst of fury, she slapped him. The sound echoed in the hallway like a gunshot. David's face jerked slightly from the force, but his eyes flared, the line of his jaw tightening with rage. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist before she could turn. In one swift motion, he pushed her against the wall, his body pressing dangerously close. "You've got guts, don't you?" he growled, his breath hot against her cheek. "That's twice now. Twice you've put your hands on me." Lily struggled, but the moment his body pinned hers, a different kind of heat flared between them. Her chest heaved, pressed against his, and his scent—something expensive and musky—flooded her senses. His grip wasn't just painful but firm, controlling and commanding. His eyes locked with hers, no longer just angry, but intense, searching and burning. Lily's heart thundered in her chest. "I don't own you," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You just keep choosing to test me," he murmured, his lips so close now she could feel them hover above hers. "You..." she began, but her voice broke. His hand loosened on her wrist, sliding up to her jaw. "Do you think I'll let my teaching go to waste?" he said darkly. His thumb brushed her cheek, his body still pressing into hers. Their breath mingled, the air charged and tight, like the world would implode if they moved even an inch closer. Lily's body trembled—not from fear, but from the electricity humming under her skin. She hated him. She loathed everything he had done. But her body betrayed her—responding to his touch, to his nearness, to the way he spoke like he still had a right to her. "I hate you," she whispered, voice cracking. "You do," David said, almost gently. "But it doesn't change anything, does it?" He leaned in further, their noses brushing now. Her lips parted, caught between resisting and surrendering, her breath shallow as her heart pounded in a wild rhythm.