Doomed To Be My Husband's Slave, His Rival Breaks Me Free!

Sunlight burned through the curtains, stabbing into my eyes.

I was still on the bathroom floor. My body ached from sleeping on cold tile. My throat was raw from crying and vomiting. The emerald gown I had spent three months choosing was wrinkled and stained.

A sharp knock echoed through the room.

"Mrs. Poltort," a male voice called. "Mr. Poltort requests your presence in his study. Now."

I dragged myself up, using the sink for support. My reflection was a disaster. Mascara streaked my cheeks. My hair had fallen from its elaborate updo. I looked like exactly what they wanted me to look like.

Like a guilty woman caught in her lies.

I splashed cold water on my face and walked to the door.

It opened before I could touch the handle. One of Tyron's guards stood there, his expression blank.

"This way."

He didn't wait for me to respond. He turned and walked down the hallway. I followed, my bare feet was silent on the marble floors. Somewhere during the night, I had kicked off my heels.

The estate felt different in daylight. It was empty and cold.

The guard stopped outside Tyron's study. He raised his hand to knock, but paused when voices drifted through the heavy oak door.

"-sure she believed it?" Tyron's voice.

"Completely," Hixia replied, sounding pleased with herself. "Did you see her face when the video played? She was destroyed."

I froze. The guard had walked a few steps away, checking his phone. He wasn't paying attention.

I moved closer to the door.

My hand moved to the secondary phone in my pocket they didn't know about. I pulled it out carefully, keeping it hidden in the folds of my dress. I pressed the red button twice.

The screen lit up faintly. It was recording.

I held it near the crack in the door.

"Your tech team did an excellent job with the audio splicing," Hixia continued.

"Even I almost believed it was real. Those recordings of her talking about 'doing whatever it takes.' It was genius to pull those from her client presentations."

"The timestamps were the key," Tyron said. "She really was at the Rosewood that night. She really did meet with Alberto for coffee. We just... recontextualized it."

"Recontextualized," Hixia laughed. "I love how you make it sound so professional. You framed your wife for adultery, Tyron. Just admit it."

"She gave me no choice," Tyron's voice turned cold. "Five years, Hixia. Five years and no heir. The family was starting to question my judgment. Question my virility. I needed a way out that made me look like the victim."

"And now you have it," Hixia said softly. "By this time next month, the divorce will be finalized. The infidelity clause means she gets nothing. And I'll be the devoted girlfriend who helped you through your darkest hour."

"Not girlfriend," Tyron corrected. "I want you to be my wife. As soon as the divorce is final."

"And I'll give you what she couldn't," Hixia purred. "A son. An heir. Everything you deserve."

"Does she suspect anything?" Tyron asked.

"How could she?" Hixia laughed. "I'm her best friend. I've been by her side for eight years. She trusts me completely. Even now, she probably thinks I'm trying to help her."

"You played your part perfectly last night," Tyron said. "The tears. The reluctant confession. Everyone believed you."

"Well, I had eight years of practice studying her," Hixia said. "I know exactly how she thinks. How she reacts. She's so predictable, Tyron. So... breakable."

"What about Alberto?" Tyron asked. "Does he suspect he was used?"

"He has no idea," Hixia said. "He thinks someone leaked genuine footage. I heard he's furious, actually. Something about you trying to make him look like a homewrecker to damage his reputation with the other families."

"Perfect," Tyron said with satisfaction. "Let him be furious. Let him think I'm playing games. It keeps him distracted while we consolidate our territory."

My hands were shaking. My vision blurred with rage and grief.

Everything. Every moment of last night. It was all a lie.

It was all a carefully orchestrated performance designed to destroy me.

The guard's footsteps approached. I quickly pressed the red button twice to stop the recording and slipped the phone back into my pocket.

But I had it.

I had proof that the footage was fake and that they had conspired to destroy me. I quickly wiped my eyes and stepped back from the door just as he turned around.

"Ready?" he asked, raising his hand to knock.

"Yes," I said, my voice surprisingly steady.

He knocked twice. The conversation inside stopped abruptly.

"Come in," Tyron called.

The guard opened the door and gestured for me to enter.