His Gentle Revenge On The Cruel Wife

The Trap

I didn’t go home that night.

After finding the USB and hearing Raka’s voice on the recording, I knew I couldn’t wait for Andre to figure it out on his own. If Raka realized I knew the truth, he’d come after me. And if he got to Pinka first…

I shoved the USB into my pocket, pulled on my coat, and slipped out of the penthouse. My heart hammered so loud I was sure the security cameras could hear it.

The address on Pinka’s old mail led me to a small boarding house in Depok. The kind of place people go when they don’t want to be found. I knocked on door number 12, my hands shaking.

No answer.

I knocked again, harder. “Pinka? Pinka Wijaya? It’s me, Pinkan.”

The door creaked open.

The woman standing there looked nothing like the photos. She was thinner, her hair cut short, her eyes tired. But the scar on her left eyebrow gave her away.

“Pinka?” I whispered.

She stared at me, then at the street behind me, like she expected someone to jump out. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said, her voice hoarse. “They’ll kill you.”

“They?” I pushed inside before she could shut the door. “You mean Raka?”

Her face went pale. “You know.”

“I know everything,” I said, pulling out the USB. “I have proof. Proof that you didn’t steal the money. Proof that Raka framed you.”

Pinka’s eyes filled with tears. “Andre won’t believe it. He hates me.”

“He hates the wrong person,” I said firmly. “And I’m going to make him see the truth.”

She shook her head. “It’s not that simple, Pinkan. Raka has people everywhere. If he finds out you’re here, he’ll—”

The sound of tires screeching outside cut her off.

Pinka’s face went white. “They’re here.”

My stomach dropped. “Who?”

Before she could answer, the door burst open.

Three men in black suits stormed in. And behind them, smiling like a snake, was Raka.

“Well, well,” Raka said, stepping over the threshold. “Look who we have here. The little wife. And the ghost.”

Pinka grabbed my arm, pulling me behind her. “Don’t touch her, Raka.”

Raka laughed. “Or what? You’ll tell Andre? He doesn’t trust you, Pinka. He never did. He thinks you ran off with the money.”

“I didn’t run,” Pinka spat. “You tried to kill me!”

Raka’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Details. Now, hand over the USB. And then we’ll make sure neither of you ever talks again.”

My heart pounded. I clutched the USB tighter. “You’re not getting it.”

Raka’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t make me take it from you.”

One of the men stepped forward. I didn’t think—I grabbed the nearest lamp and swung it at his head. He staggered back, cursing.

“Run!” Pinka yelled, shoving me toward the back door.

We bolted through the kitchen, out into the narrow alley behind the boarding house. Footsteps pounded behind us.

“Split up!” Pinka shouted. “Meet at the old warehouse on Jalan Merdeka!”

I didn’t argue. I ran.

My lungs burned. My legs shook. I could hear Raka’s men gaining on me. I ducked into another alley, my phone slipping from my pocket.

I had to call Andre. I had to warn him.

But when I pulled out my phone, there was no signal.

“Damn it,” I hissed.

A hand grabbed my arm, yanking me backward. I screamed, swinging blindly.

“Pinkan!”

I froze.

Andre.

He was here. Out of breath, his tie loosened, his eyes wild.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, pulling me into an alley.

“Andre, Raka—” I gasped. “He’s trying to kill us. He framed Pinka. He’s been lying to you for years!”

Andre’s face went hard. “What are you talking about?”

I shoved the USB into his hand. “Watch it. Please. Just watch it.”

Before he could answer, gunfire cracked through the air.

We both ducked. Raka’s men were closing in.

“Go!” Andre grabbed my hand, pulling me deeper into the maze of alleys. “Don’t look back.”

We ran. My side stitched with pain. My vision blurred. But I didn’t stop.

Because Andre was holding my hand. Because he believed me. Because for the first time since this nightmare started, we were on the same side.

We burst out onto a main street, where Pinka was waiting in a beat-up car. She threw open the passenger door.

“Get in!” she yelled.

Andre didn’t hesitate. He shoved me into the back seat and slid in beside me. Pinka floored it, tires screeching as we tore away from Raka’s men.

In the rearview mirror, I saw Raka standing in the alley, his face twisted with rage.

He wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

In the car, silence fell. My heart was still racing. Andre’s hand was still gripping mine.

He looked at me, really looked at me, for the first time in weeks.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

I swallowed hard. “For what?”

“For not believing you,” he said. “For hurting you. For letting my hate blind me.”

Tears stung my eyes. “Then believe me now. Pinka didn’t steal the money. Raka did. And he’s going to come after all of us.”

Andre nodded, his jaw set. “Then we’ll stop him. Together.”

Pinka met my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Welcome to the war, Pinkan.”

I nodded back.

The trap had been set. But this time, we were the ones holding the bait.

And Raka was about to walk right into it.