Tainted Love

Chapter 1 2

Mrs. Dary’s Regret / Victor’s Deception

Rain tapped steadily against the French windows, cascading down in silvery trails that mirrored the silent tears on her cheeks. Mrs. Dary stood there, arms wrapped around herself, as though holding her shattering heart together. Her vision blurred as each drop on the glass seemed to echo the pain inside her.

She tried to wipe her tears, but they clung stubbornly to her lashes and cheeks, refusing to stop. Her body trembled, not from the cold but from the burden she’d carried for so long. Slowly, she turned back toward the bedroom. Her husband lay on the bed, alone and fast asleep, unaware of the storm raging inside his wife.

The sight of him, so peaceful and distant, sent another sharp pang through her chest. Her knees wobbled beneath her nightgown, but she held herself up, clutching the edge of the window frame. Her mind—traitorous and unkind—replayed moments from the past like a cursed film reel she could never pause or escape.

How did we get here?

Her heart clenched violently, and she pressed her hand to her chest to quiet the sob that threatened to escape. She couldn’t disturb him. She couldn't bear to. He had suffered enough because of her. No matter how many times she tried to suppress the memories, they always clawed their way back to the surface—vivid, painful, and cruel.

“This pain,” she whispered. “It’s become a part of me.”

She dropped to the floor, knees meeting the carpet with a dull thud. Silent tears rolled again as she leaned against the wall.

“I’m tired,” she choked out, barely above a whisper. “So tired.”

Her breath hitched. "Please... forgive me. I wronged you... I wronged everyone..." Her voice cracked and vanished. She couldn’t even bring herself to confess aloud the full extent of what she had done. The shame was too deep. The weight of her decisions too heavy.

She wondered if she would ever escape the shadow of her past. Or if she was simply doomed to carry it like a curse until her last breath.

---

Victor’s Apartment — Later That Evening

“Come on, Bianca,” Victor said smoothly into the phone, pacing the room. “You know everything I’m doing is for you… for our future. I love you. You don’t have to worry. It’s only you. Always you.”

His lips curled into a mischievous smile. “You know we need Vivian for this life. She’s our way out—you should understand that.” He paused, listening. “Okay, I promise to come over tonight. Make the bed ready. All the s*x toys. And wear the red lingerie—I love that one.”

He ended the call with a smug grin, feeling proud of how well he was managing everything.

Then a voice cut through the room like a blade.

“Who are you talking to?”

Victor spun around, nearly dropping his phone. Vivian stood at the doorway, eyes curious, tone innocent—but her sudden appearance sent his heart into a frenzy.

I checked. She wasn’t supposed to be back yet.

His hands began to sweat, and his throat turned dry. The years he had spent building this elaborate ruse—were they about to unravel in seconds?

“U-urm… Vi… um…” he stammered.

Vivian furrowed her brow. “Hey Victor, are you okay? Why are you shaking like that?”

He blinked rapidly, trying to regain composure. “Why did you ask who I was speaking with?” he asked carefully, expecting her to snap, to raise a hand like she always did when things didn’t add up.

But she didn’t.

“I just wanted to know if the call was urgent,” she said calmly, “because I need to show you something.”

Victor's body relaxed slightly. He exhaled deeply, murmuring, “Thank God.”

“You seem off,” Vivian said, tilting her head. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

He forced a smile and walked over to kiss her gently on the forehead. “Perfectly fine, honey. What did you want to show me?”

Vivian returned his smile, seemingly reassured. “It’s about our wedding plans. I’ve almost finished organizing everything—we just need to finalize our outfits.” She walked to the bed and opened her laptop.

Victor sat beside her, still trying to collect himself. “Alright… But you know I’m horrible at picking women’s outfits.”

“You’re not picking mine,” Vivian replied sweetly. “You’re picking yours. I’ve already sorted mine.”

“Oh. Okay, let me see.” He leaned over and began browsing through the documents and images she had neatly arranged.

Then, his expression began to shift—his brows furrowed, lips tightened, and his face contorted from casual interest to total disbelief.

“Is everything okay?” Vivian asked, noticing the rapid change.

He turned the screen to her with frustration. “What is this?”

“Oh, that?” she responded innocently. “That’s just half the wedding bill.”

Victor stared at her, horrified. “Half of the bill? Vivian, are you out of your mind?”

Vivian looked confused. “Victor, this is my money. Why are you acting like this?”

“I know it’s your money, but you’re calling twenty million dollars half of the bill? Who spends forty million on a wedding?!”

“Victor,” she said with an icy calmness, “I’m the daughter of one of the richest men in the country. My wedding should reflect my status. You know that.”

Victor realized arguing would be a mistake. If he pushed too hard, she might become suspicious—or worse, reclaim the money he’d already been siphoning off. He needed to act.

His demeanor softened instantly. “Baby…” he said, pulling her close, his voice gentle. He kissed her deeply, his hands sliding under the soft fabric of her nightgown, caressing her body with practiced affection.

Vivian hesitated but allowed herself to relax. Maybe he’s just stressed, she thought. Maybe he just needed reassurance.

“I love you,” he whispered into her ear, licking her lobe. “You’re the only woman I want… my first love… my joy… the one who never judged me.” He tilted her face to meet his eyes. “Vivian Dary, mother of my future kids… the woman I see forever with.”

His fingers teased her thighs as he pulled her closer.

“Please trust me,” he murmured. “This kind of wedding… it just doesn’t feel right. It’s too much. I hope you understand.”

Vivian’s expression changed. She pulled away and stood up, trembling slightly—not from desire, but disappointment.

“So this… all of this… was to manipulate me?” she asked, her voice quiet but firm.

“No!” Victor replied, panic creeping into his tone. “Baby, no. That’s not what I’m doing.”

He dropped to his knees, taking her hands. “Please, listen. I get it now. I should’ve been more involved. But I just think—maybe we don’t need something so extravagant. We could do a simple court wedding, have a beautiful life, raise our kids in peace, not under all that attention.”

Tears welled up in his eyes. It was a perfect performance.

Vivian looked at him, her heart conflicted. She loved him. She trusted him. She wanted to believe this was about their happiness, not something else.

“Get up, babe,” she said finally. “I understand. I should have asked for your thoughts first. I’m sorry.”

She hugged him tightly. “We’ll have a court wedding. But on one condition.”

Victor held his breath. “What condition?”

“Everything will be filmed and posted,” she said firmly. “Every step of the way. I want everyone to see how beautiful our love is.”

Victor felt like vomiting. But he forced a smile. If this was the only way to keep her from touching the rest of the money, then so be it.

“Of course, my darling,” he said, kissing her forehead. “If you say so.”