Wedding Betrayal, I Took His Empire

Chapter 2

I dragged my feet back home, completely alone.

Our warm, cozy marital home smelled and felt like a tomb, dead silence hung thick over every surface.

I spent all night tossing all of Jeremy's things out, and that was when it hit me like a punch to the gut: how little there actually was inside this marital home of ours that belonged to just the two of us.

On the contrary, Sarah's little knickknacks were scattered everywhere, filling every corner of the entire house.

I crashed and slept like the dead, and when I finally blinked my eyes open, the first thing I saw was Jeremy's figure sitting stock-still at the edge of my bed.

He was twirling a strand of my hair around his finger, wrapping it round and round without a single hint of boredom.

"You done being mad?"

He didn't care at all. All the things I'd yelled at him yesterday were just garbage to him, he brushed them off like they were nothing but hot air.

I stayed dead silent, so he just kept talking like nothing was wrong. "I don't have time to coddle you right now. Godfather wants me to go on a business trip with him to check on the hot spring hotel development. Once I get back, we'll reschedule our wedding."

He didn't mention Sarah at all, just like he always did. He brushed the whole mess off like it was nothing more than me throwing a crazy, out-of-line fit.

Then he threw me a couple of soft, sweet words like he was doing me some huge favor, acting all generous, like he'd let my outburst slide, like he was willing to forgive me for everything.

But I'd never done a single wrong thing, from start to finish.

I wrenched my strand of hair free from his fingers and pressed my lips tight, saying nothing.

Jeremy didn't even care that I was giving him the silent treatment. He just kept going.

"Sarah's my secretary, so she's coming with me on this trip. Don't overthink it."

The words barely left his mouth before the bedroom door creaked open. There stood Sarah, with Jeremy's belt looped over her fingertips.

"Jeremy, you didn't even pack your belt in your suitcase. Aren't you scared your pants will slip right off mid-inspection?"

And that was when a genuine, bright smile finally bloomed across Jeremy's face.

He stood up and spread his arms wide, letting Sarah wrap her arms around his waist right in front of my face and thread that pricey leather belt through the belt loops of his pants.

They both flashed me a smile, then walked side by side out of the bedroom to pack their luggage.

I hung my head, and my eyes locked onto a phone that had slipped right out of Jeremy's pocket, laying on the bed in front of me.

My fingers moved on their own, tapping in Sarah's birthday to unlock the screen. The unclosed chat window was still pulled up, right there for me to read.

Sarah had sent Jeremy a photo of the belt's hidden inner clasp.

Sarah: Only I can unfasten this clasp, Jeremy, I'm locking your d**k up.

Jeremy had sent back an OK hand emoji in reply.

Sarah: If Wenna wants to unbuckle your belt, she'll have to come beg me for it! She already gets to be your wife anyway. Isn't it totally fair for me to be jealous and mess with her a little?

Jeremy's reply dripped with unhidden, fond indulgence.

Jeremy: I wouldn't even let Wenna touch it to undo it! This belt is only for you to unfasten when we're in the hot spring together. Wenna doesn't get to lay a finger on it.

Page after page of filthy, sickening smut followed that exchange.

Their names for each other went from casual given names to disgustingly intimate lewd nicknames, the kind no normal person would ever use.

I fought back the burning ache stinging my eyes, then screenshot every single filthy message one by one and sent them to my own phone to save as evidence.

When Jeremy walked back into the bedroom, I had just finished putting his phone back exactly where it had been.

He lifted an eyebrow at me. "Did you go through my phone?"

I clutched the bedsheets under my hand and forced my lips into a stiff, cold smirk. "What, do you have something to hide in there?"

Loving him had become a habit carved into my bones. Giving that up meant stabbing my own heart over and over, slicing it to gory shreds.

That was why I asked even though I already knew the answer. I was handing the dagger straight to Jeremy, letting him deliver the final killing blow to what was left of us.

Jeremy didn't disappoint me, just like I knew he wouldn't.

He stuffed the phone back into his pocket without a single word, then turned and walked out, drawn away by Sarah's sweet, cooing calls.

As the door snicked shut behind them, I caught a clear view of Sarah pouting and scolding Jeremy.

"Look how pale and upset Wenna is! How can you just turn and walk away like that when you're her husband? How am I supposed to leave my best friend in your hands if you act like this?"

No sooner had the words left her mouth than she hooked her arm through Jeremy's, slow and intimate.

Jeremy chuckled, soft and helpless, pinched the tip of her nose and said, "You're always sticking up for her, but she's selfish through and through. She never actually saw you as a real friend!"

Sarah sighed and nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder. "Don’t say that. Wenna’s always been good to me. Besides… I've got you, haven’t I?"

Jeremy brushed his fingers tenderly over her cheek, his gaze full of fond pity.

Sarah soaked up every bit of that tender attention, and only when she reached the doorway did she spin around as if she'd just remembered I was still there.

"Wena! Jeremy and I are heading out now, okay?"

They stuck hard to the 'just friends' line with every word they spoke, but their bodies told a completely different story, their intimacy had crossed that line long ago.

Once their backs faded completely from view around the corner, I fished out my phone and dialed the number of Franco, the man Jeremy called his godfather.

"Save a top-floor suite for me at the hot spring hotel."

I spent a full day working out the final terms of my divorce agreement with my lawyer, then got in my car and drove straight to the neighboring city.

I'd been with Jeremy for almost ten years. Our relationship had rotted clean through to the bone.

I could bear the agony of cutting this rot out of my life, but there was no way I was just handing over the career I'd spent ten years building to him on a silver platter.

I needed every bit of damning evidence to take him down.

And I was going to leave him with absolutely nothing.