Chapter1
Zuri's POV
“Zuri, can you send that file to my assistant? It’s on the computer,” Malik’s voice echoed from the living room.
I blinked, pausing as the weight of the task hit me. For three years, I’d never even touched his study, let alone sat at his desk. It wasn’t that I didn’t have access—Malik had always trusted me with everything. But I’d never needed to.
Tonight, though, I couldn’t ignore it. The request was urgent. I made my way to the study, hesitating only a second before flicking the computer on.
A dull hum filled the room as the screen flickered to life. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure what I was looking for. The folders on Malik’s computer were all work-related, labeled in languages I didn’t speak. They all had the same cold, corporate feel. Except for one.
It was simply labeled “MT.”
Curiosity prickled at the back of my mind. I clicked on it without thinking, and the screen blinked, revealing a single Excel file titled “Revenge.”
A laugh bubbled up my throat, but it died in my chest. Revenge? My stomach flipped. What kind of file was this?
I hesitated. A part of me wanted to shut it off and walk away. But then another part of me—the part that had spent years in a marriage full of unspoken words—leaned in closer. It wasn’t like me to pry, but tonight felt different. Tonight, I wanted answers.
I clicked open the file.
Rows of photos filled the screen. At first, I couldn’t make sense of it. There were two columns: one marked “MT,” the other “NR,” my initials. The photos were dated, and each one had a time stamped beneath it.
The first image in the MT column caught my eye—an elegant woman, smiling with a massive bouquet of pink roses in her hands. My chest tightened. I recognized the roses. Malik had given them to me on Valentine’s Day, the same bouquet that had cost him a small fortune. I had loved them, despite the allergy they triggered. It had felt like a special moment, something I could look back on forever.
I clicked through the next few photos, each one more unsettling than the last. The same woman appeared in every single one, holding a bouquet of roses. Then, in the second column, there were photos of me.
Each photo mirrored the one in the MT column: the same roses, the same diamond necklace, the same designer handbag. Same poses, same settings. Each photograph was a mirror of the last, except the woman on the left side of the screen was always the same, and the one on the right was me.
My heart stuttered as the photos continued to load. I clicked to the next image—there it was again, a photo of me holding a bouquet of pink roses. This time, though, I wasn’t alone. In the MT column, the woman held the bouquet, and on her hand was a pink diamond ring.
The realization hit me like a punch to the stomach. My fingers shook as I scanned the final set of photos. On the right, I saw myself in the same place, the same moment, except this time… Malik was beside me. He was on one knee, offering me a pink diamond ring just like the one the woman held in the other column.
That was the moment I had always thought was special, the moment he’d proposed to me.
But it wasn’t.
I had been nothing more than a replica of her. A replacement.
I quickly closed the computer, the weight of it all crashing down.
Malik hadn’t loved pink roses because he had some secret fondness for them. No, he’d loved them because they had reminded him of her. Of the woman in those photos.
I stared at the desk for a long time, trying to process it all. What was he trying to tell me with these photos? What did it mean that he’d kept this hidden from me?
A voice rang out from the living room, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Zuri? Did you send the file?”
I didn’t answer right away. The computer screen burned in my mind, each photo a reminder of the life I’d been living, of the love I thought I understood.
“Yeah,” I said finally, my voice betraying none of the storm inside. “I’ll send it now.”
But as I reached for the mouse to click “send,” something shifted in me. The quiet, perfect life I’d built with Malik felt like a lie. How long had I been living in her shadow? And how long had Malik been hiding his secret?
For the first time, I didn’t know if I could trust him. Not in the way I had before.
