DEVIL IN A SILHOUETTE

Note: This book contains a blend of first person POV and third person pov.

Chapter 1 : A knife to the heart

Richard's snarl cut through the silence of the study. "Sign the damn divorce papers, Aurora."

A faint, cold smirk touched my lips. Did he truly think I was that much of a fool?

"You think I'll grant you the privilege of spending my father's wealth on your mistress?"My voice was as sharp as a shard of glass. "I'm not signing a thing."

A deadly glare burned in his eyes, his face a mask of pure rage. "You stubborn bitch. To hell with you!" he thundered, storming out and slamming the door so hard the walls shook.

The moment he was gone, the strength drained from my body. I slumped onto the couch, heaving a sigh that felt like it carried the weight of the last five years. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back the hot tears that threatened to fall.

Five years. Five years of a marriage I never wanted, a final promise to my father, before he passed. And in some foolish, hidden corner of my heart, I'd begun to feel something for this man. But Richard had only ever been a ghost in our home, draining the company accounts to fund his affairs. He never offered a kind word, never pretended to love me. Why would he? He didn't.

And now he wanted a divorce? He wanted to legitimize his theft and parade his whores on my father's fortune? I wouldn't give him the pleasure.

I snatched my keys from the table. I needed a drink, something strong enough to burn the memory of his voice from my mind. It was my only coping mechanism.

The bar was a blur of fluorescent lights and the dizzying hum of strangers' laughter. I slid onto a stool. "Tequila. Neat," I told the bartender. The glass was cold in my hand. I threw it back in one searing gulp, but it did nothing to silence the echo of Richard's words.

My grip tightened on the empty glass. Why couldn't he just love me? What did I ever do to deserve such hatred?

"Hey there, mademoiselle." A voice sliced through my thoughts.

I turned to see a tall man with a thick beard, a cocky smile plastered on his round face.

"Hey,"I replied flatly, signaling the bartender for another drink.

"You look exhausted.Let me guess... husband troubles?" he asked, his eyes flicking to the wedding ring on my finger. He dropped onto the stool beside me, that infuriating smirk still in place.

I let out a bitter scoff."It's none of your business."

"Oh,don't be like that. I could be of help, you know," he said, leaning in far too close. His voice dropped to a taunting whisper. "You never can tell. Your husband might be fucking another woman in your matrimonial bed right now."

The air left my lungs. My chest constricted into a knot of pain and fury.

I turned to him,my gaze hardening into ice. "Go to hell," I snarled.

I threw a bill on the bar,grabbed my keys, and strode out without a backward glance.

His vile words followed me, poisoning my mind. He was right. That bastard Richard could be with someone else right now, defiling the very room I slept in.

I slid into the driver's seat, my hands clenching the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. Even though I knew about his affairs, I had never had the misfortune of catching him. But the mental image, now vividly painted by the stranger's words, was a fresh, searing wound.

I parked the car in the garage and just sat there for a minute, my head leaning against the steering wheel. I took a deep, shaky breath. A stupid part of me still hoped Richard would prove me wrong. Just this once.

I walked into the quiet house and headed for our room. But I stopped dead at the door.

A woman's moan filtered through the wood. "Ahh, yes! Right there, baby!"

My blood ran cold. It was coming from our room.

I clenched my fists so tight my nails stabbed my palms. This was it. I shoved the door open.

And my whole world stopped.

Richard was naked on our bed, on top of some woman. And then I saw her face.

It was Jessica. My best friend.

Tears instantly flooded my eyes. I couldn't even breathe. How could she? How could he? This wasn't just a betrayal. It was a knife to the heart from the the friend I trusted most.