Chapter 14
"You know what Samuel's like, Emily. He’s sentimental—he can’t bring himself to be direct with you. As long as you accept the situation quietly, he’s willing to take care of you for the rest of your life. Still, I think some things should be made clear.”
“In a relationship, it doesn’t matter who came first. But I know this much—if he had met me before you, you two would’ve stayed nothing more than old classmates. A woman should know how to keep herself presentable. Why would any man want to come home to a wife who walks around bare-faced all day?”
"Being young might not mean everything, but it’s still better than being an aging woman desperately trying to compete with someone younger. At least I know my worth. Samuel even called me pretty again today.”
“Look—this is the necklace Samuel gave me. He designed it himself.”
“I’m sure you understand what I’m saying, right, Emily? Samuel and I are in love. As long as you make the smart choice, you can walk away with the villa as part of the divorce. Samuel will buy me a new one.”
There were many more messages like these. They weren’t long, nor were they cleverly worded—but the content was cruelly clear. Jessica repeatedly emphasized Emily’s age and Samuel’s supposed affection for her, dripping with passive aggression. It oozed from every word.
The policewoman who had lent her power bank to Samuel caught a glimpse of the messages. Scoffing, she immediately began eyeing him with barely concealed contempt. Samuel might not have filed for divorce, but these texts alone made it obvious he had been considering starting a second family.
Perhaps Samuel was the only one who thought keeping an affair secret was some twisted form of love.
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Samuel's face darkened as he scrolled further. But the worst was still to come. Jessica had been sending Emily pictures every few days—photos of the gifts she’d manipulated him into buying, screenshots of bank transfers, and worst of all… indecent photos of the two of them in bed. In some, he lay fast asleep after their most recent tryst. When Samuel saw them, his stomach lurched. He felt physically ill.
The surrounding officers, who had quietly pieced together what had happened, didn’t show him any sympathy. His horror, they figured, was well earned.
Samuel handed the power bank back to the officer, then turned to Kate and muttered, “I need to head home to check something. Please… keep looking for Emily.” He couldn’t even bring himself to call her his wife.
On the way home, he called Jessica. His voice was cold—colder than it had ever been with her. “Where are you?” he asked. “Come to my house. There’s something I need to say to you. In person.”
Jessica was thrilled. “When?” she chirped.
“Now.” He ended the call without another word.
Samuel was exhausted. He didn’t even have the strength to confront her elsewhere. He certainly didn’t want to step foot into the house he’d set up for her—a house that now disgusted him. Just thinking about it made him feel sick, even though he hadn’t eaten or drunk anything since the night before.
Jessica arrived long before he did. When Samuel walked in, he found her already giving orders like she owned the place.
“Take down those paintings—they’re so ugly,” she told the staff. “We need real art, something expensive. And those rugs? Replace them. I’ll tell you what brand I want later. Only the most expensive handmade ones. My friends will think I’ve been lying if they see this mess.” She pranced around the house, tossing aside a plant leaf, stroking the furniture, rearranging pillows—all while barking instructions. Even when she saw Samuel, she didn’t stop. Instead, she skipped over to him with a beaming smile. “What took you so long?” she asked coyly. “Have you decided where we’re going to celebrate tonight? Actually, let’s just do it here. After all, I’m going to be the lady of the house now. Oh, and where’s the chef? I’ve got a craving for something special tonight.”
Jessica had always acted like a pampered, childish girl in front of Samuel. He never thought of her as a bad person—just someone to distract him. She was young, obsessed with him, and uncomplicated. That was all he wanted at the time. He never expected depth from her, so he was never disappointed.
But now, reality hit him like a ton of bricks. He’d been a fool. His eyes narrowed as he asked sharply, “What are you wearing?” Still lost in her fantasy of being Samuel’s future wife, Jessica didn’t notice the shift in his tone. She twirled in front of him and giggled.
“I found it in the closet! Isn’t it perfect on me?” she gushed. “Out of everything in there, this was the only one that fit!”
The nightgown was simple, designed more for comfort than style. When Emily wore it, it exuded a sense of warmth and coziness. But on Jessica—worn with the collar loosened and an air of forced seduction—it looked cheap and vulgar.
Samuel’s expression turned lethal. “I bought that nightgown for Emily,” he growled. “She hasn’t even worn it yet!”
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