I found an old iPhone by accident.It contained a video of my husband and sister making out.

Damien’s voice, slurred but distinct. “You shouldn’t be here,”

She smooched the corner of his jaw. “That never stopped you before.”

“I’m marrying your sister tomorrow.”

“You don’t love her like you love me.”

Silence stretched.

Then, a whisper.

“No. I don’t.”

Kelly smooched him. Slow. Deep. Hungry.

I couldn’t breathe.

“I always wanted you,” he growled. “You knew that.”

“You’re drunk,” she purred.

“You came anyway.”

“I always come when it counts.”

The moan that followed snapped something inside my chest. Their bodies tangled, urgent and shameless.

I watched every second.

Every.

Single.

Second.

Until the screen went black.

————————

They said every great love story began with a spark. Cassie King’s began with a lie. She didn’t see it at first. Not in the way Damien smiled at her across the ballroom. Not in the way his hand found hers beneath linen-draped tables.

Not in the whispered promises that curled like smoke in the night. No, the lie came gently. Wrapped in silk and roses, in murmured endearments and grand gestures. In the way he smooched her like she was the only woman who ever existed. In the way he married her. Vows etched in gold, forever promised before hundreds of watching eyes. But even then, forever had a shadow.

It watched from the front row in crimson heels and a knowing smile. It wore her sister’s face. Cassie never expected to become the woman who was betrayed. She was the good one. The perfect wife.

She loved Damien Sterling with every part of her soul until the night she discovered he never stopped loving someone else.

Now, on the eve of their second anniversary, as champagne chills in silver buckets and her heart thuds quietly beneath a silk gown, Cassie prepares for the celebration he believes she planned out of love but this time, her vow isn’t one of devotion.

It’s revenge.

---

The Perfect Wife

The smell of jasmine and vanilla candles curled through the penthouse suite like a whisper, delicate and intoxicating. Cassandra King moved gracefully across the marble floors, barefoot, her silk robe flowing behind her as she inspected the final details of the anniversary surprise she had spent the last week secretly preparing. Every corner of the space reflected intention from the chilled bottle of Cristal on the ice bucket stand to the vintage record player humming a soft jazz melody in the background.

The rooftop terrace glittered in the warm evening light. A private chef waited on standby, hidden behind the double doors, while a string quartet tuned their instruments quietly in the next room. Rose petals trailed a path from the bedroom to the rooftop, lit by soft golden candlelight.

Two years.

It had been two years since she said "I do" to Damien Sterling, the man who had once been the embodiment of every romantic fantasy she’d ever dared to believe in. The man who had smooched her forehead in boardrooms and held her hand beneath tables at society galas. The man who made her believe, against all odds, that she was his first and final choice.

And she had believed him. Every vow. Every touch. Every unspoken promise between the lines.

Cassie adjusted a silver fork on the formal dining setup, heart fluttering with both anticipation and an unfamiliar unease. She brushed it off as nerves. Every anniversary stirred memories. Some beautiful, some bittersweet but this night was about celebration, not doubt.

Delia, her executive assistant and closest confidante, stepped in quietly.

"The chef says everything will be ready on your cue and the terrace is fully prepped. You look stunning, by the way."

Cassie offered a small, gracious smile. "Thank you. I just want tonight to be... perfect."

Delia hesitated, then added softly, "He’s lucky to have you. Not every woman would go this far to keep the magic alive."

Cassie looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows as the sun dipped below the Manhattan skyline. The suite was perched like a crown on top of the Kings Grand, one of Cassie’s luxury developments. Everything about their life screamed perfection: wealth, power, beauty. Yet somewhere between the golden surface, she often felt a chill she couldn't explain.

He hadn’t said much about the anniversary plans. But he was always busy. Always distracted lately. Still, she had brushed it off.

She stared down at the sparkling diamond ring on her finger. The same ring he had slipped onto her hand in a whirlwind proposal after a month of late-night confessions and undeniable chemistry. A proposal that silenced every lingering doubt she’d once harbored.

She’d loved him long before he even saw her.

The first time she met Damien, they were teenagers at a garden party hosted by his parents. He was already magnetic, already chased by every girl in their private school orbit. But he had eyes for her sister, Kelly,the golden girl. Cassie had watched from the sidelines, quiet and content to be unnoticed, secretly nursing her ache in silence.

Years later, fate and timing shifted. A misunderstanding. A few chance encounters. A night when Cassie comforted him after Kelly left the country on a modeling tour. And from then on, the tide turned. Or so she thought.

The elevator dinged.

Cassie's heart jumped. She straightened her shoulders, checked her reflection in the hallway mirror. Ivory dress hugging her curves, lips a soft rose, eyes lined just enough to draw focus but not steal it.

Damien stepped into the suite, loosening his tie with one hand, phone in the other. He didn’t notice the setup at first. Or her.

"You’re home late," she said, voice calm but deliberate.

He glanced up, startled. "Cass... I thought we were meeting at the restaurant?"

Her smile faltered.

"I canceled the reservation. I thought a private evening here would be more... meaningful."

His eyes scanned the room slowly, taking in the flickering lights, the roses, the dinner setup.

"You did all this?"

She nodded, stepping toward him. "Happy anniversary."

Damien blinked, then leaned in to smooch her cheek, slightly off-target.

"Right. Of course. Happy anniversary, baby. This is... incredible. I’m sorry, I got caught up in meetings."

Cassie wrapped her arms around him, inhaling the faint scent of scotch and leather.

He had forgotten. He remembered only because she reminded him.

She smiled anyway.

Because perfect wives forgave. Perfect wives understood. And tonight, she would be the perfect wife one last time.

Before everything changed.

---

Champagne & Secrets

The party was everything the society pages would rave about by morning. Crystal chandeliers bathed the ballroom in a warm, opulent glow, and the curated guest list sparkled with the city’s most powerful elites. Waiters in black vests carried flutes of champagne on silver trays, and a jazz trio played soft, elegant notes that floated above the hum of polite laughter and whispered gossip.

Cassie moved through the crowd like she belonged because she did. Her custom navy silk gown hugged her in all the right places, her dark hair swept into an effortless twist. A smile played on her lips, the practiced kind that softened her features without revealing too much.

From across the room, Harper Linwood watched her.

"You’re smiling like a woman in love," Harper murmured as she handed Cassie a fresh glass of champagne.

Cassie took it, sipped. "That’s the idea, isn’t it?"

Harper tilted her head, studying her. "You’re always so put-together, Cass. Almost too put-together."

Cassie didn’t answer. Instead, her eyes scanned the room until they found Damien. He stood near the bar with Leo Durant, laughing at something a man said. But there was a tension in his shoulders, a stiffness in his smile.

And then, the subtle shift: Damien excused himself, weaving toward the hallway behind the ballroom.

Cassie’s eyes narrowed.

She didn’t follow. Not right away. Instead, she waited, counted to twenty, then murmured to Harper, "I’ll be right back."

She walked slowly, her heels silent against the carpeted corridor. At the far end, the door to the coatroom stood ajar. Light spilled into the hallway. Voices filtered through, muffled.

Cassie paused. Heard Damien’s voice. Slurred, low.

"You know I love you... always have."

Her stomach twisted.

"I just... tonight's hard, okay? It’s her anniversary, not ours."

A pause.

"Yeah... yeah. I wish I could be with you instead."

Cassie felt the blood drain from her face. Her body froze, every cell screaming denial.

Then came the clincher, "I’ll leave her soon. I just need a little more time."

Kelly’s voice was faint but unmistakable on the other end. Laughing. Mocking.

Cassie took a step back, heart hammering.

She didn’t cry. Didn’t collapse. She simply turned around, each movement deliberate, composed.

When she returned to the ballroom, Harper caught the flicker of something in her eyes.

"What happened?"

Cassie handed her the half-drunk champagne. "I think I need something stronger."

She smiled.

But this time, Harper noticed her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

---

The Forgotten Gift

The morning after the party, Cassie sat on the edge of their California king bed, her hands wrapped around a mug of black coffee gone cold. The penthouse was quiet, too quiet, except for the soft hum of the city waking up outside. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the skyline stretched endlessly, bathed in the pale gold of early light.

Damien was still asleep, sprawled across his side of the bed in a half-unbuttoned dress shirt and black slacks. His tie lay forgotten on the floor, his phone blinking with missed calls. Cassie stared at it for a moment longer than necessary before setting her cup down and rising to her feet.

There was no card on the vanity. No box on the nightstand. No bouquet waiting near the door.

No gift.

Two years of marriage. And not even a handwritten note.

She checked the closet, the hallway table, even the kitchen island where he’d once left a surprise diamond pendant on their first dating anniversary. Nothing.

Her stomach tightened.

Maybe he left it at the office. Maybe it was coming later. Maybe—

The elevator dinged.

Delia stepped out with her usual grace, holding a slim planner and a paper bag of croissants from Cassie’s favorite French bakery.

“Morning,” Delia said, eyes scanning Cassie’s expression. “You didn’t sleep?”

Cassie shook her head lightly. “Just woke up early.”

Delia placed the pastries down. “Want me to get started on your briefing for the investor brunch?”

“In a minute.” Cassie hesitated. “Did Damien… happen to leave anything with you for me?”

Delia blinked. “Like what?”

“An envelope. A gift. Anything.”

A pause. Then, gently, “No.”

Cassie nodded. Her lips tightened into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Right.”

By noon, Damien emerged from the bedroom with sleep-tousled hair and a groggy face that under any other circumstance might’ve made her smile.

“Morning,” he mumbled, stretching. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

He winced. “I was supposed to be in a call an hour ago.”

Cassie handed him his coffee, black and just the way he liked it. “You were tired.”

He smooched her cheek. “Last night was amazing. Seriously, thank you for everything you did.”

She nodded, searching his face. “Did you… forget something?”

He looked up from his coffee, blinking. “What do you mean?”

Cassie gave him a moment.

He glanced at her, then down at the cup, then away. “Oh. The gift.”

Her heart thudded softly.

“I… meant to have it delivered to the office yesterday, but things got crazy. I’ll bring it by tonight. I wanted it to be perfect.”

Cassie nodded slowly. “Of course. I understand.”

But the way his gaze slid to the floor said more than his words. There was no gift. There had never been one.

“Do you want to tell me what it was?” she asked, her voice gentle.

He hesitated. “A bracelet. Emerald. To match the one you wore at the gala last spring.”

Too specific. Too fast. Practiced.

Cassie smiled and leaned up to smooch his cheek. “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

He gave her a quick nod and disappeared into the bathroom. Cassie remained still, the air around her strangely heavy.

When the water began running, she picked up her phone and texted Delia one word “Check.”

Later that day, Cassie wandered through the Kings Grand’s grand ballroom for a final check before an upcoming gala. Her heels echoed against the high-gloss floor as she moved past gold-trimmed columns and crystal chandeliers.

Delia met her by the reception desk, tablet in hand.

“I checked the company card and Damien’s personal Amex. Three days ago, he bought a diamond bracelet from Raffin’e Jewelers. Not emerald.”

Cassie’s jaw clenched. “Shipping address?”

“Not listed. But the pickup signature was K. King.”

Her breath caught.

Kelly.

Her sister.

Of course it was.

Cassie swallowed, her mind racing. Her heart didn’t even ache. Not yet. Not the way it would. Not the way it used to. Right now, it just… observed.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

Delia glanced around. “Want me to tell Harper?”

“No,” Cassie said. “Not yet. I need to think.”

Delia didn’t press.

That night, Damien came home with two glasses of wine and an apologetic smile.

“Got caught up again,” he said, smooching her forehead. “The gift’s still coming.”

Cassie took the glass from him and smiled.

“I can wait.”

And she would but not for the gift. She would wait to see just how far the lie would go and when the moment was right, she would make sure it ended exactly where it started. With her.

---

Delia was waiting for her the next morning in the corner booth of their usual café, low profile, tucked inside a bookstore. She slid a manila folder across the table. “I pulled his charge history again. Here’s the purchase. It wasn’t sent anywhere. It was signed for in person. And I found this.”

She unfolded a printout of a security cam photo, grainy but unmistakable. Kelly. Long blonde hair. Oversized sunglasses. Holding a Raffinée shopping bag and grinning.

Cassie’s stomach turned.

“She left from there and went to the Fifth Avenue spa,” Delia added. “One of Damien’s drivers picked her up. Same day.”

Cassie pressed her fingers to her temple. “He told me he had meetings. Said he was tied up with investors.”

Delia’s voice was gentle. “You okay?”

“No.”

“What do you want to do?”

Cassie closed her eyes. “I want to play the part. Just a little longer. Let them think I’m still clueless.”

She opened her eyes and looked directly at Delia. “And I want you to find out everything.”

Delia nodded. “Everything?”

“Dates. Times. Hotel rooms. Messages. I want a timeline that’s bulletproof. I want a story that doesn’t leave room for denial.”

Delia exhaled, as if bracing herself. “All right. You’ll have it.”

That evening, Cassie returned to the penthouse and made dinner. Damien walked in late, tossed his blazer on the arm of the couch, and smooched her cheek. “Sorry I missed lunch. Meeting ran long.”

She smiled. “Of course.”

He paused, looked at her. “You’re... being really patient with me lately.”

“Shouldn’t I be?”

“I mean, yeah. It’s just... things have been a little off. I’ve been distracted. Doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

Cassie handed him a glass of wine. “I know.”