Wife Revenge

The Hunter and the Hunted

Chris whistled a jaunty tune as he unlocked the front door, bringing stale air along with something vaguely floral as he stepped inside. Just now, he had dropped Janet off after another exhilarating evening of stolen kisses and whispered promises. He felt smug satisfaction, a sense of triumph. He was good at this, he thought- juggling two lives with effortless grace. Amy was oblivious to it all, lost in her legal briefs and green smoothies. He chuckled to himself. Poor Amy.

He tossed the keys onto the console table, heading for the kitchen to look for something to munch on during the late-night hours. Passing along the living room, something caught his attention-a faint almost imperceptible glint from the corner of the bookshelf. He stopped, furrowing his brow. He walked closer, narrowing his gaze. It was small- no bigger than his thumb- nestled among some old photo frames. A camera lens. A nanny cam.

Cold blood ran then hot within his body with furious indignation. His wife was watching him. The quiet and unassuming amy: she finally found out. He formed an image in his mind through that realization which struck him as physical blow with force that it knocked out the wind from his smug complacency. He felt a surge of anger, quickly followed by a strange, almost perverse amusement. So, she knew. Or at least, she suspected enough to install surveillance. He chuckled, a low, humorless sound. This was rich. His wife, the legal eagle, gathering evidence against him. It was almost... admirable.

He walked around the living room, now searching every nook and cranny. Another one, cleverly disguised as a smoke detector in the ceiling. And another, tucked away in the potted plant by the window. He counted three in the living room alone. He wondered how many more were scattered throughout the house. A shiver-not exactly from fear but some strange excitement-passed down his spine. It was a new game now. And the game had transformed into infinitely more interesting.

Instead of feeling trapped, Chris suddenly felt powerful. Amy wanted a show? I'd give her a show. I'll stage manage my antics for her cameras, her silent, watchful eyes. I'll shove my infidelity in her face: every stolen kiss, every illicit touch, all documented as her desperate attempt to catch him exploiting his 'in' to expose him. He was the hunter, and she unknowingly had became the hunted.

A heady few days lay ahead. Chris brought Janet over more often to his place lately, so their meetings were parked no longer in her own apartment. With much ostentation, he kissed her ravenously in the sitting room while covertly looking at the hidden camera while smirking. He left Janet's scarf draped over the arm of the couch, almost mocking Amy to find. A stray bobby pin or an errant earring went onto the bedside table, fully understanding that, since she was so organized, Amy would surely find them.

He reveled in visions of Amy, alone in her office, glued to a live feed, with her heart shattering by the minute. By this time, he had envisioned tears rolling down her cheeks and her silent screams toward the walls. He knew it was a mean thing to do, but he didn't care. She had pushed him away. She had been frigid and distant, all the while weaning warmth elsewhere; surely a consequence of her negligence.

But Chris's mind wasn't so much on Janet. Heather, the new account rep, stayed in his thoughts always, a constant teetering torment. Youthful exuberance, contagious laughter, and innocent flirtations were an intoxicating combination. He found himself in search of her at work, lingering around her desk, finding excuses to work on projects with her. He noticed the way her eyes glimmered upon receiving a compliment from him, the blush creeping up her neck. She was ripe for the taking, and Chris, the seasoned predator, knew exactly how to reel her in.

One afternoon, he found her alone in the break room with a cup of coffee in her hand. "Rough day?" he asked, leaning on the counter with his voice low and suggestive. He watched her jump in surprise, a shy smile playing on her lips. "Just trying to make sense of these new reports," she offered, waving a hand toward a small tower of reports on the table.

"Mind if I take a look?" he put in as he stepped closer, leaning over her shoulder as his arm brushed against hers in an intentional gesture. He felt her warmth envelop him as he caught a whiff of vanilla laced with something sweet. He pointed at a section of the report with his finger but brushed against hers. She leaned back a little, her eyes flittering with uncertainty.

"Yeah...but you're married," she murmured, not raising her vision from the report. He smiled, a predatory glint now adorning his eyes. "I want you" was softly spoken, his voice dropping an octave and staring her right in her eyes. He saw surprise dart away, followed by the flicker of curiosity. He had her.

"Oh, really?" she retorted with a playful challenge in her tone. He leaned in closer, his voice a whisper. "It’s over, has been for a long time. I move out in two weeks.” He watched as the mixture of shock and intrigue flickered across her face. He needed to make the story compelling, so that he could put himself forth as the wronged husband, the man trapped in a loveless marriage.

"Where?" she asked, her voice maintaining some softness but growing increasingly interested. "My place," he said confidently, smirking. He saw indecision erupt in her eyes in a battle between caution and desire; he knew which one would emerge victorious. "When?" she asked, almost inaudibly. "Now," he stated firmly, a command that left no room for interpretation. Slowly, a victorious smile made its way across her face, while her resistance faded further. “Let me get my things,” she added excitedly, her bright eyes glimmering with unspilled anticipation.

He watched her walk away, a triumphant grin painting itself upon his lips. Heather. Yet another notch on his belt. An excitement rush. An adrenaline rush. He was on top of the world. He had Amy spectating every one of his moves and he was still going to score with another. The master of his fate, a man who weighed his desires and grabbed them without giving a care about the repercussions.

He quickly activated his cell phone and texted Janet: "Something came up. Can't make it tonight. Raincheck?" Closing it before a reply came was hasty. Janet was rather the safe option. Heather was new, stimulating, a challenge. A tiny sense of betrayal was stinging at him, but he brushed it away quickly. He was, after all, a man. A man with needs. Needs that were very slowly and quietly being nursed into infinitum by Amy. Unconsciously, she was just pushing him away. What he was doing was merely the law of nature. He was the alpha, and a man who takes what he wants. And tonight, he wanted Heather.