2 ~ Play The Fool
1203 Words
I gripped the shirt in my hands, my nails digging into the fabric.
I turned slowly, my expression carefully neutral.
Malcom stood in the doorway, looking every bit the man the world adored. His suit was crisp, his blonde hair slightly tousled—effortlessly perfect. He loosened his tie as he stepped inside, his sharp brown eyes scanning me with the casual confidence of a man who believed he owned the world.
Who believed he owned me.
"You’re still up?" His voice was smooth and controlled. "I thought James took too long picking you up. I was going to reprimand him."
Ah. The caring husband act.
I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head as I folded his shirt neatly and placed it back in the closet. If he noticed, he didn't react.
"I couldn't sleep," I said.
Malcom stepped closer, his fingers brushing my cheek. "You look exhausted, Eve. Did something happen?"
I met his gaze, searching for even a flicker of guilt. A crack. Anything.
But Malcom Delacroix was a master at deception.
And tonight, so was I.
I exhaled shakily, forcing a wobbly smile. "Actually, yes. There’s something I want to talk to you about."
He gave me a charming smile—the same one that used to make my heart flutter. "Go on."
I swallowed, the words forming effortlessly. "I want a divorce."
A long pause.
His hand stilled against my face, fingers twitching slightly. Then, he laughed.
Laughed.
Like I had just told him the most ridiculous joke in the world.
"A divorce?" He stepped back, crossing his arms. "Eve, be serious. You’re upset about something, and I get it. But divorce? That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?"
I tilted my head, feigning innocence. "Is it? Or is it just inconvenient for you right now?"
His jaw clenched. "You don’t understand what’s at stake here. Our marriage isn’t just about us—it’s about the company, the image we’ve built. My competitors are watching, waiting for any sign of weakness. And you think now is the time to throw a tantrum?"
A tantrum.
I felt something inside me snap, but I forced a deep breath, keeping my expression soft. Not yet, Eve.
I let my gaze drop, playing the role of a conflicted, emotional wife. "Then explain this to me, Malcom," I whispered, lifting my phone and opening the video. "Because I received something very… disturbing tonight."
I hit play.
His face remained impassive as the footage rolled, the moans, the gasps, the betrayal painting the room in suffocating silence.
And yet, when it ended, he simply sighed.
He didn’t deny it. Didn’t rush to defend himself.
No.
Malcom Delacroix smiled.
He stepped toward me, his fingers grazing my chin, tilting my face up to meet his unreadable gaze.
"Eve," he murmured, his voice honeyed with regret. "That video… it’s not what you think."
I blinked. "Oh? Because it looks exactly like what I think."
He exhaled heavily, stepping back, rubbing his forehead as if I was the one giving him a headache. "I didn’t want you to find out like this."
"Find out?" I repeated, my stomach twisting. "Find out that my husband has been sleeping with another woman?"
He shook his head. "No. Find out about what really happened that night."
I arched a brow. "Enlighten me."
Malcom walked toward the bar cart in the corner, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He took a slow sip, then met my gaze. "I was drugged."
I stared at him. "You… what?"
"Both of us were," he continued smoothly, setting the glass down. "At a private business gathering. Someone must have slipped something into our drinks. I felt—" He ran a hand through his hair, the picture of a distressed man. "Strange. Lightheaded. Next thing I knew, I woke up in a hotel room with Roxy, both of us in that… situation."
I almost laughed.
Oh, he’s good.
"Malcom," I said, my voice deadly calm. "Are you telling me that you, a man who barely drinks at public events, somehow got drugged, ended up naked in a hotel room, and just never thought to mention it to your wife?"
He exhaled sharply. "I felt ashamed, Eve. Guilty. I—" He clenched his jaw, his voice lowering. "I warned Roxy never to associate with those people again. I should’ve told you, but I didn’t want to hurt you."
I wanted to applaud. Truly, what a performance.
But instead, I let my lips tremble, my breath hitch. "Malcom…"
His eyes softened, like he thought he was winning me over. "I love you, Eve. You know I do."
I stepped back, shaking my head, letting the doubt creep into my voice. "I don’t know what to believe anymore…"
He reached for me, but before he could touch me, his phone rang.
And just like that, his frustration returned.
With an annoyed sigh, he answered. "What?"
His expression shifted almost instantly. The irritation smoothed into something far more calculated.
I already knew who it was before he spoke again.
"Come up," he said before hanging up.
A minute later, the door opened, and she walked in.
Roxy.
Dressed in a sleek red dress, her dark hair cascading over one shoulder, she walked in with an air of confidence that made my skin crawl.
Her lips curved into something just shy of a smirk as she took in the scene. "Eve," she greeted, her voice sickeningly sweet. "You look pale. I hope Malcom wasn’t too harsh on you."
I clenched my jaw. "Oh, not at all. He was just explaining how the two of you were drugged into having sex."
Roxy sighed dramatically, stepping closer. "I was so scared when I realized what had happened. I would never—never—do something to hurt you, Eve. We’re friends and like family. I thought we trusted each other."
I stared at her, feigning hesitation.
"That video…" Roxy’s lips trembled. "It was manipulated. Someone is trying to destroy your marriage, Eve. And I—I should’ve told you the truth sooner. That’s why I never wanted you to get the wrong idea about me and Malcom. That’s why…" She bit her lip. "That’s why I pretended to be his cousin."
A sharp silence filled the room.
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
She nodded quickly, playing the nervous, misunderstood victim. "That’s why, Eve. I wanted to protect your marriage. I didn’t want you to worry, so I lied about being related to Malcom."
Oh, this was rich.
I let my hands tremble slightly, allowing doubt to seep into my voice. "But… why didn’t Malcom tell me?"
Malcom exhaled as if this was all exhausting for him. "Because I didn’t want you to misunderstand."
Roxy nodded, stepping forward, placing a hand on mine. "I know it looks bad, but you have to believe me, Eve. I would never betray you like that."
My eyes flickered between them, watching the way Malcom subtly nodded, his silent assurance that they had everything under control.
I took a deep breath, swallowing my rage, my disgust—every violent urge I had in my bones.
Then I lowered my gaze.
"I…" My voice was soft. Uncertain.
- Writer
