After My Husband Took My Skin for His Mistress

The polished mahogany table gleamed under the recessed lighting of Ellis Enterprises' boardroom. I smoothed my charcoal pencil skirt, fingers tracing the edge of my portfolio. Inside were designs I'd spent weeks perfecting—a new charity initiative that would revitalize urban communities through art installations.

"Next item," Ephraim announced, his voice commanding the room's attention. "The Westside revitalization project."

I straightened, preparing to present. This was my moment—the first time I'd lead a major initiative since joining the company's charitable foundation.

"Before Hailey shares her proposal," Alani's voice cut through the silence, "I'd like to offer a fresh perspective."

I froze, my portfolio suddenly heavy in my hands. Alani stood, her white blouse pristine against her olive skin, holding a tablet with hastily sketched concepts.

"I was inspired by my time in community outreach," she continued, moving to the front of the room with practiced grace. "These designs emphasize raw authenticity over polish."

Raw authenticity. The words hit like a slap. My designs—the ones Ephraim had called "overly refined" during our last private review—were being rebranded as inadequate.

"Alani's approach has genuine merit," Ephraim said, studying her tablet. "There's an unfiltered quality here."

I glanced at my portfolio, at the detailed renderings that had taken countless hours. "My presentation addresses the same themes," I said quietly. "But with established community partnerships and sustainable materials."

"Too corporate," Ephraim dismissed, not even looking at me. "Alani's intuition is exactly what we need."

The board members nodded, their eyes sliding past me to focus on Alani's animated explanation. I remained standing, portfolio in hand, until Vincent cleared his throat and gestured for me to sit.

"Given Alani's fresh vision," Ephraim announced, "I'm assigning her as lead designer. Hailey will assist with implementation."

Assist. After months of work. I closed my portfolio, the leather warm beneath my palms.

---

The penthouse was quiet when I returned, the evening light casting long shadows across the marble floors. I headed for my dressing room, needing a moment alone.

A flash of diamonds caught my eye—something nestled in the velvet-lined jewelry box that sat open on my vanity.

My heart stopped. The vintage Chanel necklace Ephraim had given me for my twenty-fifth birthday lay draped across Alani's slender neck as she stood before my mirror.

"What are you doing?" My voice sounded strange, even to my own ears.

Alani's reflection smiled. "Just trying on a few things. Ephraim said I could borrow whatever I liked."

"That's mine." The words escaped before I could soften them. "He gave it to me for my birthday."

Her fingers touched the diamonds reverently. "Oh? It's beautiful. I had no idea it was special."

Tears welled in her eyes so quickly I almost believed them. "I'm sorry, Hailey. I didn't mean to overstep."

Footsteps sounded behind us. Ephraim appeared in the doorway, his expression darkening as he took in the scene.

"What's happening?" he demanded.

"She's wearing my necklace," I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. "The one you gave me."

Alani's tears spilled over perfectly. "I didn't know it was important. Ephraim said I could borrow anything I liked."

Ephraim's gaze hardened as it fell on me. "It's just jewelry, Hailey."

"It was my birthday gift."

"And now it can be a gift to someone else." His voice carried that familiar edge—the one that reminded me of my place. "Someone who appreciates what they're given."

Alani sniffled, her hand still clutching the diamonds. "I'll put it back."

"No," Ephraim said firmly. "Keep it. Hailey should understand that possessions shouldn't matter to someone who came from nothing."

---

Rain lashed against the windshield as we sped down I-95, the wipers struggling against the deluge. I sat rigid in the back seat, watching Alani's delicate hand rest on Ephraim's arm.

"You drive so confidently," she murmured, leaning close to him. "I always feel safe with you."

Ephraim smiled, his profile sharp against the stormy darkness. "I've driven this route hundreds of times."

"But it's different with someone special beside you," she replied.

I stared out the window, watching raindrops race down the glass. Three hours ago, we'd left the Hamptons estate. Alani had claimed the front passenger seat immediately, citing motion sickness.

"Hailey doesn't mind sitting in back," she'd said with that innocent smile. "She's so understanding."

Now, as the car hydroplaned slightly on a puddle, I gripped the door handle. "Ephraim, could you watch the road?"

"Just relax," he replied, his eyes meeting Alani's instead of the windshield.

"Ephraim!" Alani's voice rose suddenly. "You're scaring me."

He turned fully toward her, his hand leaving the steering wheel. "Don't be frightened. I'm right here."

The car drifted slightly. Ahead, red taillights blinked through the rain—a curve in the highway approaching too quickly.

"Ephraim!" I shouted.

He jerked back to the wheel, but it was too late. The tires lost traction on the wet asphalt. The world spun in a blur of gray and red as we skidded toward the guardrail.