The Other Mrs: Wrong Enemy.

Ayra. I clicked the office door open, and froze. “Oh f**k… f**k… I’m so sorry.” The words slipped out raw and unfiltered, dragged from my throat before my mind could catch up with what my eyes were witnessing. It was supposed to be a simple errand. Almost stupidly simple. Come to my husband’s office, pick up the garage keys, and return the cars used for the mini conference meet-and-greet. That was all. Instead, I stood there, paralysed, watching my husband buried deep inside the p***y of one of his female employees, her back pressed against his polished mahogany desk like she belonged there. My breath hitched painfully. They scrambled apart the moment they noticed me...clothes tugged down, buttons fumbled, shame and panic colliding in the air. I swallowed hard, my chest tightening as I forced a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “No, no,” I said quickly, waving a hand as if this was nothing. “I’m just here to grab the garage keys. I’m sorry I didn’t knock.” Sorry I didn’t knock. As though I were the intruder. I walked towards the desk on unsteady legs and picked up the keys. When Alexander’s eyes met mine, my vision blurred instantly. Tears pooled, hot and unforgiving. Yes, I should be used to this. Yes, this was the unspoken reality of my marriage. But his office? Not here. Not with a woman who worked under him. A woman who would see me at meetings, smile politely, and know exactly what his body felt like. Alexander lifted a sharp hand, dismissing her. She didn’t hesitate. She rushed past me without looking up, her heels clicking like a countdown I couldn’t stop hearing. He exhaled heavily and stepped closer to me, irritation etched across his handsome face. “You know I always say this to you...” “Yeah,” I cut in sharply. “I remember. You’re a first-rank CEO. Women will always flock around you. They can access your d**k, not your heart. Your heart belongs to me.” He chuckled softly, like I’d just said something cute. “That’s my girl,” he said. “Now smile for me.” I forced my lips to obey and turned to leave, but his hand clamped around my wrist, stopping me cold. “What’s the problem now?” he asked. I raised a brow, pretending confusion. “Problem? No. I’m good. Totally.” He rolled his eyes and pulled me closer, his voice dropping into something dangerously calm. “I know you, Ayra. I know you’re about to go cry to your family about how much of a scumbag i am.” I stared at him, at the man I married, the man I loved despite everything. He was devastatingly attractive, the kind of man women lost their morals over. And I was foolish enough to believe love would tame him. “It’s just that…” I swallowed. “I wasn’t expecting to see that in your office. We had s*x three times before you left this morning.” My voice cracked. I turned my face away, refusing to let him see the tears. He cleared his throat and returned to his chair, sitting like nothing had happened. “Amor,” he said coolly, “before you married me, you knew what being married to a known CEO required. A lot of patience. Yes?” I nodded slowly. “I know. I do. I’m not complaining. I just think… maybe you should be more careful. At least choose high-class women. Your staff will stare at me. Laugh behind my back. These girls don’t mind leaking nudes for clout.” He raised a hand immediately. “And here comes my overthinking woman. What do you want, Ayra? A divorce?” The word sliced through me. “I never said anything about divorce, Alexander.” I whispered. He smiled faintly. “You called my full name. Interesting.” I lowered my head. “I’m not aiming for a divorce. I overthink, yes. I’m sorry.” “Good girl,” he said. “You’re heading home now, right?” “Yes. See you later.” As I reached the door, his voice stopped me again. “Amor.” I turned as he continued. “Be ready by seven p.m. I’m taking you out.” A thrill shot through me, embarrassingly fast. “For real?” “I don’t repeat myself unless you’re not interested.” “I am,” I said quickly. “Thank you.” Outside, I sank into the car and let out a long breath. My phone buzzed again, had been buzzing for a while. “So much for having a sister,” I muttered as I answered. “Hey, new bride,” Myrah’s voice rang out. “Are we still doing this teasing?” I scoffed. She hissed at someone nearby, then continued. “So? How’s marriage? What’s it like being married to a cold, manipulative, heartless CEO?” “I’m not married to that kind of man,” I replied, though my voice lacked conviction. She laughed. “Please. When you started dating him, he was a premium asshole.” I sighed. “Myrah, I love my husband. That should matter.” She scoffed. “Funny how you’ve stopped defending him lately. Guess the dog finally has his leash around your neck.” “Myrah!” I snapped. “Did you just call my husband a dog?” She paused. “Listen, Ayra. I missed your wedding, yes. But I know Alexander. Women shop at my store with his card. I hear things.” “He’s taking me out tonight,” I said defensively. She yawned loudly. “Classic after-mess apology. He definitely did something.” My throat tightened. “I’ll call you back.” I ended the call and asked the driver to stop briefly. I pulled on my hat and shades, I wasn’t in the mood for cameras or hashtags. Inside the grocery store, I picked what I needed quickly as I walked to the counter and transferred the payment. The cashier stared at the screen longer than necessary. “Ma’am… Ayra?” she asked quietly. My stomach dropped. I forced a polite smile and nodded. Her eyes widened. “Oh my God.” I leaned in. “Please, keep it low.” She nodded, then whispered, “I recognised the name on the transfer. Same name I’ve seen on receipts tied to your husband’s card.” My chest tightened. She leaned closer. “How does it feel… watching your husband with other women?” Anger surged. I hissed and turned to leave. “Wait,” she said urgently. “Look at this.” She shoved her phone into my hands. I stared. My breath vanished. My mouth fell open. “Holy shit.”