Behind Every Facade

"Here" he gave me a dress to wear and new make up, "use this,and cover the scars" he said pointing at the make up, "I don't need the paparazzi drama on why my wife has scars" He said pointing at the make-up. I nodded and took what was given to me without hesitation. It's true on what they say: "Behind every successful business man, there's often a wife who sacrifices silently " My name is Priscilla Davis and this is my story on what happens behind the life of the successful businessman so, buckle up it's about to get rocky. Insert one. Priscilla's Pov. I remember the day Paul and I met ,we met like it was yesterday. I hailed a taxi on a rainy evening, and he slid in beside me, apologizing for the intrusion. We struck up a conversation, bonding over our shared love of literature. At the time, I was working as a waitress, struggling to make ends meet. He was charming, kind, and genuinely interested in my life. As we spent more time together, I found myself falling for his charismatic smile and ambitious spirit. He'd talk about his business ideas, and I'd listen, offering encouragement. Before long, his ventures started taking off, and I became his rock, supporting him through the ups and downs. Our life was simple yet beautiful. We'd take long walks, cook dinner together, and laugh until our sides hurt. I felt seen and loved, But as his success grew, so did the pressures. And behind closed doors, the man I loved began to change....he now valued money over me. Paul: I thought I told you what to do. What are you doing, standing there, crying?. I didn't even notice I'd been crying,I was lost in thoughts of how much he'd changed. Me: You're right, I'm sorry. I'll get right to it. Just something in my eye. Paul: Your apologies won't fix everything. You've got 15 minutes to cover those scars. We're leaving. Don't keep me waiting... You know the consequences. Shivers ran down my spine as I swallowed hard, recalling what he'd do if I disobeyed. I swiftly applied makeup to conceal the scars, dabbed on Chanel perfume, and descended the stairs with a practiced smile, the façade of a trophy wife he'd expect. Paul: I was about to come find you, he said, eyes still on his tablet. Let's go. His grip tightened around my hand as we stepped into the black Mercedes Benz AMG, its tinted windows shielding the world from our private hell. I greeted John, our driver, and we were underway. As we drove, I hoped for a glance, a word of approval, but Paul remained absorbed in his speech, rehearsing lies about being a devoted partner to impress investors. I bit back tears, forcing a smile to mask the pain. Insert 02 [Somewhere far away from town] The dimly lit, abandoned house creaked and groaned, its peeling walls a testament to neglect and decay. Dust coated every surface, and cobwebs clung to the corners. In this forsaken space, two figures huddled in secret, their voices hushed but urgent. Figure 1: So when do we attack? He's about to deliver a speech today; it would've been the perfect time to eliminate him. Figure 2: With all the security surrounding the area? Sometimes I wonder how you think. Relax, everything will happen in due time... once it happens, it will be over for Paul Davis (chuckles). And we will take what's ours. No one will dare to undermine us nor speak against us, gentlemen? (They nod in agreement, their faces illuminated only by the faint glow of their phones.) Figure 1: I hear you, so let's toast to the fall of the mighty Paul Davis. (They raised their glasses, filled with whiskey, and laughed, the sound echoing off the walls.) As they clinked their glasses together, the air was thick with anticipation and malice. Figure 2's eyes gleamed with a calculating intensity, while Figure 1's face twisted into a determined snarl Back at the ceremony As Paul stepped off the stage, a smile plastered on his face, he felt a sense of satisfaction wash over him. The investors were clapping, their faces impressed, and he knew he had them in his pocket. But little did they know, the real show was about to begin, one that would unfold behind closed doors, away from the public eye. Meanwhile, the plotters watched from the shadows, their eyes fixed on Paul with a mixture of disdain and calculation. They had been waiting for the perfect moment to strike, and it seemed their patience would soon pay off. The contrast between Paul's public persona and private life was about to become starkly apparent. The applause still echoing in the auditorium, Paul's true nature would soon be revealed, and the consequences would be dire. Paul:So what do you think Mr Jonas? Jonas: impressive work,looking forward into doing business with you. Paul:Those are music to my ears(looks at his wife and back at Mr Jonas)We need to talk more about business Mr Jonas ( he looked at him and nodded as they move from the crowd). Paul:how is the business going?we need to find virgin girls for the sacrifice on next week Friday,otherwise our enemies will be on our back and we definitely don't want that now do we? Jonas: we'll discuss more matters at your office on Monday,keep doing the great job. As the meeting adjourned, Paul and Mr. Jonas parted ways, each heading back to their respective homes. Paul's wife, who had been quietly observing the conversation, turned to him as they stepped into their car. "How did it go?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity. Paul smiled, his eyes gleaming with a mix of satisfaction and unease. "It went well," he said, his voice low and measured. "Mr. Jonas seems interested in doing business with us." As they drove home, the tension in the air was palpable. Paul's wife glanced at him sideways, her eyes searching for something unspoken. Paul's gaze remained fixed on the road ahead, his mind already racing with the implications of their meeting. Insert 03 Paul’s POV The Mercedes purred softly beneath us as the city lights blurred past the windows. I leaned back in the seat, adjusting the cuff of my suit, replaying every word Mr. Jonas said. The man was a puppet — all bark, no bite. He didn’t know how deep this thing went. Good. The less he knew, the better. Beside me, Priscilla sat in silence, hands folded neatly in her lap, her eyes fixed ahead like she always did after events like these. I glanced at her. She looked... exhausted. Or maybe she was just tired of pretending. Either way, I couldn’t let her fall apart — not yet. When we arrived home, the scent of rosemary chicken and sautéed vegetables filled the air. The chef had outdone herself tonight. I washed my hands, loosened my tie, and joined Priscilla at the dinner table. She was already seated, her posture perfect, her expression unreadable. “I’m sorry,” I said, watching her closely. “For earlier. I know I was harsh.” She didn’t respond immediately. Just gave me a slight nod and began eating in silence. I knew that look — the trained, muted obedience. It used to please me. Now, it felt like she was slipping further from my grip. And I couldn’t afford that. “I need you, Pris,” I added. “You know I do. Everything I’m building — it’s for us.” That was the lie I told myself, too. But even I couldn’t fully believe it anymore. What I was building… it wasn’t for her. It was for power. Control. The kind of influence that made men untouchable. After dinner, she excused herself to the bedroom. I poured myself a glass of scotch and sank into the leather armchair in my study. The room was dark, save for the amber glow of the lamp and the blinking light on my secure phone. A message blinked to life: “Cargo confirmed. Five girls. Virgin status verified. Friday’s ritual is greenlit.” I ran a hand down my face, exhaling slowly. Sacrifice. That word still made my skin crawl the way it first did — but now it was just business. Power came at a price, and I had already paid too much to stop now. Every deal, every life traded, every silence bought… it was all necessary. I stared into the ice swirling in my glass and whispered, “One more round. Just one more, and then I’ll stop.” But I knew that was another lie. See I never wanted to enter into this dark circle of business but I was told that in order to last in this line of work you need power that's why I envied for Power,I was very young when I got introduced to it by my boss who hired me as his assistant what shocked me was that he had no children only a wife who seemed miserable like mine....I think I'm following his footsteps he told me that this is a one time job,but one job called another and they all followed by greed I kept on going back not realizing how deep I am in this... Murdering these young souls turned me into a monster I recall hitting on my wife because I often see their faces on her. Honestly I don't deserve her..but she has no choice but to stay with me. We've been trying to conceive but she doesn't know that she would never conceive while with me... seeing her crying over a negative on every test haunts me.. I'm the reason behind her miscarriages.. I wouldn't dare tell her as that would risk my business.. Insert 04 [Bedroom] Paul stepped into the warm shower, water cascading down his tense muscles. He washed away the scent of cologne and handshake deals, trying to rinse off the guilt that clung tighter every day. Twenty minutes later, he turned off the faucet, dried himself, and slid into bed beside Priscilla. She lay still, moonlight dancing across her peaceful face. He pulled the covers up to his chest and closed his eyes, exhaustion finally claiming him. But sleep was short-lived. A nightmare seized him: He was back in that abandoned warehouse... A tiny hand reached out to him... Belonging to Emily – a 12-year-old girl with piercing green eyes... He relived the horrific moment he ended her life. His dream self screamed silently as his hands replayed the deadly grip... But the scene shifted – Emily's face morphed into Priscilla's. His dream hands still choked... Paul's eyes snapped open in terror as he felt his real hands tightening around Priscilla's neck! Paul's eyes widened in horror as he released his grip on Priscilla's throat, his hands trembling violently Priscilla's body jerked upwards, her eyes flying open in terror as she coughed violently, gasping for air: "*Cough*... *gasp*... Priscilla:Oh God..." Her hands instinctively went to her neck, rubbing the skin he had just squeezed. Paul froze, paralyzed with fear, his mind screaming: "I almost killed her..." Priscilla's coughing slowly subsided, replaced by ragged breathing and a haunting whisper: Priscilla:"What... happened?? Paul's voice trembled as he spoke, trying to sound calm and concerned: Paul:Oh my God, Priscilla... I thought someone was attacking you... I was having a nightmare and I just reacted... He gently pulled her into a tight embrace, trying to conceal his own shaking hands Priscilla's body remained rigid in his arms, her voice laced with suspicion Priscilla:You thought someone was attacking me... in our bedroom... with the doors locked?" Her eyes narrowed slightly as she pulled back to stare at him. Priscilla's eyes remained narrowed, searching for truth. Paul:Honestly... I had a dream. Someone was attacking me... no I woke up fighting back, I guess. He said avoiding eye contact..