Fallen Grandeur, Shattered Oaths

On my fifth year anniversary, the first two things I receive are two bills for water and electricity.

My wife, Whitney Chapman, comes home at a late hour. She's carrying a food container that's filled with food that has gone cold.

"Sorry, I was dealing with an extremely difficult client. I can only make it up to you with supper."

She puts down the container before walking into the bathroom. While she doesn't reek of alcohol, there's dust coating the hem of her windbreaker.

I call Whitney's secretary, only to find out that she has not been to the company today.

A second before I end the call, the secretary adds, "By the way, Mr. Spencer, the new warehouse manager, Maxwell Clarke, was also absent from work today."

Maxwell Clarke? The illegitimate child who brings nothing but shame to the Spencer family? What a big coincidence… or was it?

I quickly contact the property manager of the villa based on the bills I've received.

"A father-and-son duo have just moved into the villa last month."

The manager then sends the list of inhabitants to me. The name listed is also Maxwell Clarke.

This villa happens to be a property my father left for me back when Whitney and I first got married. Since it's too far from the city, I've left it vacant all this time because I wanted to reserve it as a villa meant for vacation purposes.

Now, the people I hate are the ones living in that villa.

The water was turned on in the bathroom. Whitney Chapman was taking her bath.

I went to the entryway and picked up the trench coat she'd just changed out of. There was an unnoticeable stain on its hem that looked like plaster.

A crumpled supermarket receipt lay in the coat's pocket. I silently smoothed it out. It was issued today at 3:00 pm. The items listed on it were pasta, oil, and…a packet of cigarettes.

She lied to me.

She hadn't been attending a business dinner just now. In fact, she'd been out running errands for those two men voluntarily.

Maxwell Clarke and I, Harvey Spencer, were half-brothers of the same mother. His father, Samuel Clarke, was a home wrecker who seduced my mother for her wealth many years ago and ended up causing my father's death.

After I took over the reins of the Spencer family five years ago, the first thing I did was drive them out of Reelsburg City.

But alas, my wife brought them back recently. She even helped them settle down in the house I inherited from my father.

The shower was turned off. Whitney walked out with a bathrobe wrapped around her body.

Seeing that I was still sitting on the couch, a flicker of uneasiness crossed her eyes. "Why haven't you gone to bed? Have you had your supper? You don't have to eat it if the food's gone cold. I'll cook something for you tomorrow."

Leaning back on the couch, I pointed at the bill on the table. "Why did you pay the utility bills for the manor in West End?"

Whitney was drying her hair when I asked her that question. She paused momentarily, then replied calmly, "The management called and told me the circuit breaker tripped due to aged wiring. I dropped by to deal with it and paid the bills while I was at it."

She was lying.

How had I never noticed what a remarkable actress she was?

"Oh, really?"

I scoffed before asking, "Did you need cigarettes to repair the wiring?"

I slapped the supermarket receipt on the table.

Finally, her expression became flustered.

After a long silence, she sighed. Then, she explained in a softened tone, "I might as well tell you everything since you've found out.

"Mr. Clarke has fallen ill, while Maxwell is working as a warehouse keeper at our company. They are going through a difficult time. I just can't turn a blind eye to their situation.

"The past is in the past, and they've learned their lesson. Harvey, you should live and let live. You're now the CEO of a corporation. Why must you drive them into a corner?"

Live and let live? I stared at the woman before me, who seemingly had a heart of gold, and was stunned at how ridiculous she was being.

"Whitney, have you forgotten how my dad died? It's all because of that rascal, Samuel Clarke,! He marched into our house and blackmailed us, angering my dad so badly that he had a cardiac arrest and passed away! Now you're telling me to live and let live?"

Frowning, Whitney said in a resigned tone, "That's an old score between the older generation. Maxwell was still young at that time, so how is any of it his fault? He's your mother's son too.

"Besides, after getting to know him, I realize he's a kind person, unlike what you've told me. Harvey, you're being prejudiced. As a man, you really should be more tolerant."

I fixed my gaze on her. It felt like I never truly knew what type of person my wife was all this time.

"I want them gone by tomorrow."

Whitney's expression turned cold. "Maxwell is your mother's son as well. He's your only brother in the entire world. I can't stand by and watch them end up on the streets."

With that, she grabbed her clothes and went to the guest room.

It was our fifth wedding anniversary, yet instead of a surprise celebration, all we had between us was chaos.

I stared at the closed guest room door, and my gaze slowly turned cold.