Escaping My Husband's Betrayal

The sun hadn't even risen when I woke to the sounds. It was coming from the guest room. Again.

I lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, listening to my husband betray me under my own roof.

I got up, showered, and dressed. When I walked into the kitchen, Carlos was already there, sipping coffee, looking refreshed. Luna was nowhere to be seen.

"Good morning," he said, not looking up from his phone.

"Morning," I said, placing the signed folder on the table. "Here. It's done."

He looked up, his eyes lighting up with greed. He snatched the folder, didn’t bother checking, and just trusted me.

"Excellent," he said, closing the folder with a snap. "This will secure the merger. The board will be thrilled."

He stood up and walked over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. It took everything in me not to flinch.

"You've been so good about all of this, Katerina," he said, kissing my forehead. "I know it hasn't been easy with Luna here. But it's for the company. For us."

"I know," I said, forcing a smile.

"Tell you what," he said, pulling back to look at me. "Our anniversary is coming up two days from now. What do you want? Anything. Name it."

I looked into his eyes. They were the eyes of a stranger.

"I want my brother out of prison," I said clearly. "And... I want a getaway. Just the two of us. After losing the baby... I want to try again. Somewhere quiet. Maybe the Maldives?"

Carlos hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then he smiled, that charming, practiced smile that had once fooled me.

"Done," he said. "I'll make the call to the prison today. I'll have him released on our anniversary. Consider it my gift to you."

"Thank you," I whispered.

"And the trip sounds perfect," he added. "Book whatever you want. But for now... Luna and I have to go out of town for a few days. Business trip. Don't wait up."

"Sure," I said. "Have a safe trip."

He grabbed his briefcase and the folder, kissed my cheek, and walked out the door without looking back.

I watched his car disappear down the driveway.

The moment he was gone, I moved.

I packed a single bag. Essentials only. My passport. The cash from the jewelry. A few clothes.

I drove to the prison the next morning. I sat in the waiting room, my heart pounding against my ribs.

"Mateo Rossi," the guard called out.

My brother walked through the heavy steel doors. He looked thinner, pale, with dark circles under his eyes. But he was alive.

"Kat?" he asked, his voice rough. "What are you doing here? They said I made bail."

"We're leaving," I said, grabbing his arm. "Now."

"Leaving? Where? What about Carlos?"

"Don't ask questions," I hissed, pulling him toward the exit. "Just trust me."

We walked out into the bright sunlight. A black SUV was waiting at the curb. I opened the door and shoved Mateo inside.

"Airport," I told the driver. "Private terminal."

Mateo stared at me as we sped away. "Kat, what did you do?"

"I saved us," I said, gripping his hand. "We're never going back."

At the airport, a sleek private jet was waiting on the tarmac. Leo had arranged it. It was registered to a shell company, untraceable.

We boarded. The engines roared to life.

As the plane climbed higher, piercing through the clouds, my phone vibrated against my leg.

"Where the hell are you?" Carlos's voice barked through the speaker, so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. "I'm at the office with the lawyers. You gave me the wrong files, Katerina! These aren't the transfer deeds. These are the old charity auction records from three years ago! Are you stupid?"

"Oh," I said, my voice calm, watching the city shrink into a patchwork quilt beneath us. "I'm so sorry. I must have grabbed the wrong folder. You know how scattered I've been lately."

"Scattered? This is a multimillion-dollar merger!" he roared. "I need the correct documents now. Bring them here immediately. We are waiting!"

"I can't do that, Carlos," I said, a small smile touching my lips. "I'm a little... tied up at the moment."

"Tied up? Doing what? I don't care! Get a courier! Send a digital copy! Just fix this!"

"Actually," I interrupted, cutting through his rage. "I left the real paperwork on your desk. The top drawer. Right next to your anniversary gift. Just send someone to get it for you.”

“Fine. But where are you?”

“I booked tickets, and they were also in the drawer. Happy anniversary, Carlos," I said, my voice turning ice cold. “I hope to not see you again.”

"Wait, what are you saying? You—"

I didn't let him finish. I pressed the red button, ending the call.