Chapter 7: The Final Betrayal

"Emily, you’re alive?"

My voice was barely more than a whisper. I took a shaky step toward her, tears threatening to spill over.

She nodded, but her face was expressionless.

Her eyes were cold, empty. She looked right through me, as if I were a stranger.

I was flooded with relief, tears welling up. "Thank God, thank God!"

I reached for her, but she didn’t move. The joy in my chest fizzled, replaced by confusion and fear.

But before I could even breathe, I realized something was off.

Something was wrong—terribly wrong. The room felt colder, the air thick with tension.

My wife didn’t react to my emotions at all. Her face was cold, lifeless—she looked more like a stranger than the woman I loved.

She avoided my gaze, her lips pressed into a thin line. The silence stretched between us, heavy and uncomfortable.

She knelt beside him, her fingers tracing the outline of his injuries. Her eyes softened, a tenderness I hadn’t seen in months. It felt like a knife twisting in my gut.

I felt like I was about to fall apart, like I was floating in midair, my head swimming with jealousy and rage.

My vision blurred, my knees weak. I gripped the back of a chair to steady myself, trying to process what I was seeing.

Turner sneered. "You’re gonna have to pay for that little stunt, Mr. Morgan."

He pulled out his phone, waving it in the air like a trophy. His grin was smug, triumphant.

He pulled out his phone and showed me footage—me beating the crap out of him in his office.

The screen showed every punch, every kick, crystal clear. My stomach dropped. He’d set me up from the start.

Turner grinned smugly. "It’s all on tape. Now, let’s talk."

He leaned back, confident as ever. I wanted to wipe that smile off his face.

I didn’t care. I turned to Emily. "Emily, what the hell is going on?"

My voice cracked, desperate for answers. I needed her to tell me this was all a nightmare.

She played with her hair, twirling a strand. "Come on, isn’t it obvious? There’s nothing to explain."

She twirled a strand around her finger, her tone bored, dismissive. It was like she didn’t care at all.

She tossed her hair and said, "I’ve been with Mr. Turner for a while now. That trip? That was our honeymoon."

She said it so casually, as if it were no big deal. The words hit me like a freight train, knocking the air from my lungs.

Hearing this, it felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over me, freezing me solid.

I staggered back, my hands shaking. I wanted to scream, to cry, but nothing came out.

I pointed at her, shouting, "You’re cheating on me—don’t you have any shame?"

My voice echoed off the walls, louder than I intended. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

Emily just shrugged. "Kyle, everyone wants something better, you know?"

She shrugged, her eyes glinting. She didn’t even try to hide her ambition.

She looked me up and down, cold as ice. "Mr. Turner’s a big shot, an international guy with a future. And you? You’re just a low-level city clerk. Let’s be real, your life’s always gonna be like this."

She looked me up and down, her gaze cold and calculating. I felt small, insignificant.

"Honestly, I’m grateful Mr. Turner likes me. At least now I’ve moved up in the world!"

She smiled at him, her eyes full of admiration. I felt sick.

She looked at Turner like he was a movie star.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. They looked like a couple straight out of a magazine, and I hated them both for it.

Disgusted, I sneered. "You know he’s already married, right?"

I crossed my arms, trying to hold onto some shred of dignity. I hoped she’d see reason, but she just rolled her eyes.

"If he’s cheating on his wife with you, what makes you think he won’t do the same to you?"

I tried to appeal to her logic, but she just laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Emily just shrugged. "What’s that supposed to mean? You think I’d go back to you?"

She smirked, her tone mocking. It was like she enjoyed twisting the knife.

"Keep dreaming. Even if Mr. Turner’s a player, he’s still better than you!"

She leaned into Turner, her smile smug. I felt my blood boil.

Turner jumped in, "You know, Mr. Morgan, that little beatdown you gave me? That’s assault."

He straightened his tie, the bruises on his face stark against his pale skin. He looked every bit the smug businessman, ready to ruin my life with a single phone call.

"If I go to the cops—beating up a businessman like me? That’ll be all over the news. You’ll lose your job, end up in jail."

He waved his phone again, the threat clear. My career, my reputation—everything was on the line.

"But if you want to avoid all that, maybe we can work something out."

He smiled, knowing he had the upper hand. I wanted to wipe that look off his face.

Emily crossed her arms, her voice ice-cold. "Here’s the deal: sign the divorce papers, hand over everything, and pay up—a hundred fifty grand. Do that, and we’ll let you walk."

She crossed her arms, her voice cold and businesslike. It was like I was nothing more than an obstacle to her new life.

It hit me—this was all a setup.

The truth hit me like a sledgehammer. Emily’s tears, her suicide, the accusations—it was all a performance. They’d played me for a fool, and now they wanted to take everything I had.

Emily first used the assault story to enrage me, then faked her death to manipulate me. All so she could break free from this marriage, bleed me dry, and run off with that bastard!

I stood there, shaking with rage and disbelief, the world spinning around me. I’d lost everything—my wife, my dignity, my future—and it was all because I trusted the wrong people. The only thing left was the cold, bitter taste of betrayal.