I Made Him Successful, And I Can Destroy Him

Bianca sat at the edge of the bed in her bedroom as she bit onto her fingernail. Her eyes went back to the phone placed on the desk at the corner of the room next to her husband's side of the bed. Like she knew a call would come in, the phone rang, and the sound covered the whole room, including the sound of the shower coming from the bathroom. “Carl, honey? You've got a call again. Should I go ahead and inform the caller you're in the bathroom?” Immediately she spoke, the sound of the shower stopped, followed by a rush to the door. Carl peeped out of the bathroom door when he heard she was going to answer the call. His dark hair was wet and falling over his face, dripping water down his square jawline. “Don't worry about it honey, it's probably my secretary.” He walked out of the bathroom with his d**k dangling unbothered. They lived in a glass house where anyone who might just happen to have binoculars could see. He took his phone and walked to the bathroom to pick up his towel. He hung it on his neck and made his way out of the bedroom, before picking up the call. “Hello Elie, how was your night?” “Elie?” Bianca could hear him speak even if it was faintly. She rushed to the door in order to hear him clearly. This was what she had become. This was what Carl had turned her into— a paranoid and insecure wife. “What are you wearing?” He asked, followed by a thirsty laugh. “You know I have to make sure you wear something really nice for this special occasion.” Bianca was not taking this well. She had always known there was something going on between Carl and Elena— his secretary, but she just didn't have enough to call him out. He always found a way to make it look like she was being insecure, and there was nothing going on between the both of them. “Oh, that'd be a great idea,” was the last thing he said before reaching out for the knob. Bianca didn't bother running back to act like she wasn't eavesdropping. Should it ever be called that when you have a husband who is clearly cheating on you? He walked inside and found Bianca by the side of the door. He rolled his eyes, knowing what was about to come next. “It's Elie now?” she asked, a frown on her face and her fist clenched like she was going to punch something, and it might just be his face. “What are you saying?” He pushed past her and walked towards his wardrobe. “This is not the time for your whining. As you see, we have a big night ahead of us.” “Oh great, like I forgot. Or like you forgot I was the one who helped you get this client in the first place, and every other big deal and partnership that got us where we are today.” “Oh please, enough! So what does that have to do with this?” He snapped at her, causing her to flinch. Silence stretched between them. Bianca’s expression softened. Her face fell to the ground, while she caressed her fingers. “I didn't mean to start a fight again, I didn't mean for any of this to happen. It's just—” she paused, not sure how to put her next words. “I'm your wife, Carl. I'm the wife of the biggest and richest man in all of Illinois, and I don't feel like it. What is it that I'm not doing right?” Carl eyed her. “Here you go again, playing the victim card. Making it look like I'm mistreating you. Like you don't have access to anything you want in the world?” “What's the point of having everything in the world, when I can't have you?” Bianca tried to hold back her tears. She hated having to cry in front of him. The last time she cried, his reaction was not of pity or empathy, but of disgust. “You used to treat me with so much love, then all of a sudden you changed, and somehow it feels like you transferred all of it to Elena. To the point where you don't even want to touch me.” “What's the point?” Carl said these words like he was talking to himself. “What's the point? Did you just say that to me?” Something in her changed. She wasn't going to waste any tears on him, she wouldn't give him that satisfaction. They had been married for more than eight years now and Bianca had been unable to get pregnant no matter how many times they had tried all the other years. He couldn't look at her, not because he felt guilty, but because he didn't want them to prolong this more than it already went. He kept silent while he wore a plain white shirt, slid himself into a classic tuxedo, and a pair of black patent leather shoes. Bianca herself was tired, she didn't want to exchange any more words with him. She headed to the desk where her makeup box was. It had a big oval-shaped mirror with LED vanity light on its edges. “Elena will be here any time from now,” Carl announced, almost feeling like he had polluted the already cooling atmosphere. “Just want to give you a heads-up.” He added. Bianca tilted her head to the side to get a glimpse of Carl. “You're kidding, right?” she asked, hoping he'd tell her he was joking. But he didn't. He meant it. “What exactly is she coming to do?” she cried out, knowing fully well how this was going to make her feel. She wasn't sure if she should yell at him for not telling her sooner or if she should stay calm and pretend she was cool with it. She wasn't the type to pretend or hide her feelings, and maybe that's why they had had a lot of quarrels in the past. “We can have this discussion later. She is at the door now. Please do not disrespect her.” “How about you stop disrespecting me?” she yelled. “Shh!” he gestured to her to quiet down as he took a look at himself in the mirror, adjusting his collar before walking out. Bianca stared at herself in the mirror. Her grey eyes had a glassy stare, she tucked the hair falling in the middle of her face to the back of her hair and sat still as she stared back at the frowning figure in front of her. “This b***h has the guts to come into my home?”