3 ~ Shadows and Schemes
1261 Words
I hesitated for a long moment before whispering, "I don’t know what to think anymore."
Malcom sighed in relief. Roxy squeezed my hands.
And just like that, they thought they had won.
But I was just getting started.
I sat on the edge of my bed, fingers unconsciously grazing my belly as the weight of my reality pressed down on me.
Surveillance cameras monitored my every move, tiny blinking red lights scattered around the house, a silent reminder that Malcom had his eyes everywhere. I should have known. A man like him—calculating, controlling—would never allow his prized possession to slip away so easily.
But I wasn’t his possession.
Not anymore.
The dim glow from the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the room, elongating my reflection in the floor-length mirror. My silk robe clung to my skin, and for a moment, I imagined what it would feel like to be truly free—to breathe without the suffocating presence of Malcom lurking around every corner.
I had to end this.
And to do that, I needed answers.
Roxy.
The name itself was bitter on my tongue. She was both my enemy and my key to freedom. The only one who knew the depths of Malcom’s betrayal. And if she thought I would let her keep playing both sides, she was sorely mistaken.
With one last glance at the mirror, I stood, tightened the sash of my robe, and grabbed my coat. The night was young, and I had a snake to confront.
*****
Roxy’s Villa smelled of vanilla and expensive wine, a stark contrast to the poison that dripped from her lips every time she spoke.
She lounged on her velvet sofa, one leg crossed over the other, swirling a glass of red in her hand. Her dress was sleek, crimson like fresh blood, her dark curls cascading over her shoulder in a way that seemed effortless. She looked every bit the woman who thrived in Malcom’s world—deceptively beautiful, dangerously cunning.
When she saw me, her lips curled into something resembling a smirk.
“Eve,” she purred, tilting her head. “To what do I owe this… unexpected visit?”
I closed the door behind me, my heels clicking against the marble floor. “Cut the act, Roxy.”
Her brow arched, but she leaned forward, feigning concern. “Oh dear, did Malcom do something again? You poor thing.”
I clenched my fists. “How long?”
She sighed dramatically, setting her wine glass down. “How long… what?”
I stepped closer, my voice deadly calm. “How long have you been sleeping with my husband?”
Roxy’s lips parted, then she let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “Eve, please. I told you before—I regret that night. I was drugged just like Malcom. I never wanted this.”
I scoffed. “You never wanted this?” I took another step, towering over her. “Yet you kept your mouth shut. You let me live in a lie while you played pretend, lurking in the shadows.”
She exhaled, looking away as if she were burdened by my accusations. “You’re my friend, Eve. My family. Do you think I wanted to hurt you?” She placed a hand over her heart, her voice softening. “I didn’t tell you because I was ashamed. I hate myself for what happened.”
Lies. All of it.
Her eyes darted to mine, studying me, measuring my reaction. But I wasn’t the naïve woman she once knew.
“You can drop the innocent act,” I said, my tone colder now. “I know what you really want.”
Her lips pressed together, but the flicker of amusement in her gaze betrayed her.
I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice. “You want Malcom for yourself.”
She didn’t deny it.
Instead, she tilted her head, her lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. “Would it be so wrong after what had happened?”
I inhaled sharply. There it was. The truth she had danced around for so long.
“I'm just joking though,” she began, letting out a chuckle, “I just wanted to tease you.”
More lies, I presumed.
Her fingers tapped against her thigh as she studied me. “You’re going to leave him, aren’t you?”
I didn’t respond.
She took my silence as confirmation and let out a breathy laugh. “Finally.” She stood, adjusting the hem of her dress. “It’s about time, Eve. Malcom has used you long enough. I mean, let’s be honest, you were never going to win against him.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And you think you will?”
She gave a careless shrug. “Maybe. But unlike you, I know how to play his game.”
I let the insult slide off me, refusing to let her see the fury bubbling beneath my skin.
“So?” she continued, eyes gleaming. “What do you need from me?”
I hesitated, then said, “Help me corner him. Make sure he can’t back out of this divorce.”
Her brows lifted. “You’re serious?”
I nodded.
Roxy exhaled dramatically before giving me an exaggerated smile. “Oh, Eve… you do know that by helping you, It'll seem as though I'm technically helping myself, right?”
I held her gaze. “Yes.”
She chuckled, shaking her head. “At least you’re honest.” Then, her eyes darkened. “Fine. I’ll help you.”
I watched her closely. “But?”
She sighed, feigning disappointment. “But you have to do something for me in return.”
Of course.
I crossed my arms. “What do you want?”
She stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “I want to be cleared of my ‘mistakes.’ I don’t want Malcom to see who he's seen as family, as someone who betrayed him just because of that 'one' mistake. If you divorce him, I need you to make sure he doesn’t cut me off, and I'm not involved in the drama.”
I tilted my head. “Why? So you can crawl back into his bed?”
Her lips twitched. “So I can survive.”
Bullshit.
But I nodded anyway. “Fine.”
Her grin widened. “Then we have a deal.”
We spent the next hour crafting the perfect trap. Malcom thrived on power and control. The only way he’d agree to the divorce was if he thought it was on his terms. And we would make sure that happened.
Roxy was good at manipulation. But she wasn’t the only one who could play this game.
*****
As I stood to leave, adjusting my coat, Roxy’s gaze flickered downward.
“You know,” she mused, her voice laced with curiosity, “for someone so eager to leave Malcom, you’ve been touching your stomach a lot.”
My breath hitched.
I forced my hands to my sides, but it was too late. Roxy’s eyes widened slightly, realization dawning on her.
“You’re pregnant.”
The room felt smaller. The walls too close.
I turned sharply, heading for the door.
“Eve,” she called, amusement creeping into her voice, “are you seriously carrying Malcom’s child?”
I didn’t respond.
Didn’t confirm.
Didn’t deny.
I just walked out.
But as the door clicked shut behind me, I knew one thing for certain—Roxy knew my secret.
And that changed everything.
- Writer
