5.
1653 Words
The company retreat wasn’t a “camp”...it was a luxury outdoor setup with fairy lights strung between trees, tents arranged like expensive hotel rooms, and a bonfire burning in the distance.
Regina stood at the entrance, hugging herself. Her clothes were clean but worn...cheaper than everything around her. She stuck out like a bruise.
Bret walked toward her.
His arm was around his secretary’s waist.
The woman was dressed like a slutty princess...tiny dress, designer heels, hair curled perfectly. She clung to Bret like she owned him.
“Regina,” Bret said, waving at a pile of boxes near the supply tent. “Carry those camp materials to the main area.”
Regina stared at him. “You’re kidding.”
He didn’t even look at her when he said, “Do it.”
Then he turned to the secretary and kissed her cheek...loud, dramatic, disgusting.
Regina’s fingers curled into fists.
The humiliation burned down her spine, but she forced herself to move.
Her mother’s face flashed through her mind.
That kept her breathing.
That kept her from collapsing.
While Bret strolled away with his secretary like she was some fragile porcelain goddess, Regina bent down, lifted the heavy boxes, and nearly staggered from the weight.
But she carried them. Because she had no choice.
When Regina finally put the boxes down near the lit area, she exhaled shakily. Sweat trickled between her shoulder blades.
“Wow,” a mocking voice purred behind her. “You’re sweating. How… peasant-like.”
Regina turned.
The secretary stood there sipping champagne, her glossy lips curved in a cruel smile.
Regina clenched her jaw and tried to walk away.
But the secretary stepped closer and whispered:
“Want to see something?”
Before Regina could react, the woman shoved her phone into Regina’s face.
A picture flashed.
Bret’s bare chest.
Bret kissing the secretary’s neck.
Bret holding her legs open.
Regina’s stomach dropped.
Then another picture.
And another.
And another.
Her heart cracked with every swipe...her husband’s hands on another woman, his mouth on her skin, his smile soft, intimate, the way he used to smile at Regina years ago.
The secretary smirked, watching her face crumble.
“Oh? You didn’t know he likes being choked a little?” she said with a giggle. “He told me you were too boring for that.”
Regina swallowed down the scream clawing up her throat.
She wouldn’t give this b***h the satisfaction.
She forced her voice out, low and trembling. “You’re disgusting.”
“Me?” the secretary laughed coldly. “Sweetheart, I’m not the one whose husband prefers f*****g me over touching you.”
Regina’s eyes burned, but she held the secretary’s gaze like she wished she could set her on fire.
The secretary stepped closer, her smile widening.
“My sadness fuels you, doesn’t it?” she whispered mockingly. “It makes you feel powerful seeing me break.”
She leaned in, perfume choking the air.
“But let me tell you a secret, Regina...your husband said your tears bore him. He said you cry too easily. He said he needed a woman who actually excites him.”
Regina bit her tongue so hard she tasted blood.
The secretary wasn’t finished.
“You know what Bret told me yesterday?” she asked lightly. “He said he only married you because you were quiet and easy to control. The perfect little house pet.”
Regina’s fingers trembled violently.
Her chest was tight enough to crack.
Her nails dug into her palms until they hurt.
Her throat felt like it was closing.
The secretary leaned back with a triumphant smirk, as if she had successfully ripped Regina apart piece by piece.
Regina’s voice came out hollow, broken.
“You’re proud of being second-hand d**k?”
The secretary blinked.
Regina walked past her, but the secretary grabbed her arm.
Her grip was surprisingly strong.
“You think he’ll come back to you?” she hissed. “You think doing this job will make him want you again? Pathetic.”
Regina jerked her arm away. “I’m not here for him.”
“Oh, I know,” the secretary said sweetly. “You’re here because you’re broke.”
Regina froze.
“You’re here,” the secretary said, grin widening, “because you’re desperate. Because your mom is dying. Because you need him more than he ever needed you.”
Tears stung Regina’s eyes.
Bret appeared out of nowhere, and the moment he saw the secretary, she let out a dramatic gasp like she’d been stabbed by an invisible spear.
“Ouch! My foot...Bret...baby...something pricked me...”
She didn’t even limp convincingly. She just fluttered her lashes and pretended her ankle twisted.
Bret didn’t question it.
Of course he didn’t.
He rushed to her, scooped her into his arms in full bridal style, and glared at Regina like Regina had committed a crime simply by existing.
Regina looked away quickly, her face numb, her heartbeat dead.
But as Bret carried the secretary off...like some fragile princess who couldn’t even breathe without his help...something else caught Regina’s eye.
The secretary’s phone.
It was lying on the ground where the woman had “fallen,” the screen still on, still showing those filthy images.
All those photos...her husband’s hands all over another woman, his tongue between her thighs, his smile soft and intimate.
Regina stared at the phone.
Then something in her chest shifted.
A tiny idea.
A delicious, dangerous whisper.
Her lips slowly curled up into a smirk she didn’t recognize...one that felt foreign, dark, and powerful.
“Let’s see,” she whispered to herself.
The outdoor company event started an hour later. Lanterns hung from trees, the air smelled like pine and money, and the company had decorated the entire place with earthy branding...wooden textures, stone-themed stands, employees wearing brown and green outfits as if the theme was expensive forest cosplay.
The guests wandered around nodding approvingly.
The clients were impressed.
Everyone seemed to be buying the whole “brand connected to nature” bullshit.
Regina, meanwhile, stood off to the side like a ghost.
Bret avoided her eyes.
The secretary clung to him...her fake injury healed miraculously fast...and giggled loudly at everything he said.
Humiliation clung to Regina like a second skin.
But she held onto the smirk.
She had a plan
The event reached its highlight...a big presentation displayed on a huge outdoor screen.
The intern, a young guy who looked like he lived on caffeine and stress, rushed to set everything up. He grabbed the secretary’s phone, which had somehow ended up among the presentation materials.
Perfect.
Exactly what Regina had counted on.
She stood quietly behind the display tent, invisible, forgotten...yet holding all the power.
The intern plugged in the phone to switch the presentation to the screen.
And then... her little plan bloomed like poison.
The screen flickered.
The nature-themed slideshow stuttered. And suddenly...
FLASH.
BRET.
NAKED.
ON A BED.
The guests gasped in unison.
Another slide.
BRET pinning the secretary down, both moaning.
Another slide.
The secretary straddling him, breasts out, lips swollen, his hands on her hips.
The clients froze, mouths hanging open in disbelief.
The CEO of a French marketing company choked on his champagne.
Bret’s face went dark red.
Then purple.
Then white.
“SWITCH IT OFF! TURN IT OFF RIGHT NOW!” he shouted, voice cracking.
The intern panicked, stabbing buttons like the laptop was trying to murder him.
But the pictures kept flipping worse...some were videos.
Videos with sound.
The secretary’s voice echoed across the entire evening air; “Bret...ah...harder...your wife would faint if she saw this...”
Gasps.
Whispers.
Someone actually dropped a wine glass.
Regina stood completely still, her smirk dying into something colder…emptier. She didn’t feel satisfaction.
She only felt tired.
Her husband’s moans spread through the speakers like a slow death sentence.
Bret lunged at the intern and yanked the plug out.
The screen turned black instantly.
Silence fell.
Embarrassed silence.
Judgmental silence.
The kind of silence that could bury a career.
Bret was breathing heavily, fists clenched, looking like he wanted to commit murder.
The secretary stayed frozen beside him...face pale but lips trembling with rage.
But then...she smirked.
A calm, chilling smirk.
She whispered, loud enough only Regina could hear:
“…Perfect.”
Regina blinked, her stomach tightened.
Perfect?
The secretary stepped closer, her eyes bright with wicked amusement.
“You really are predictable,” she whispered. “So predictable it hurts.”
Regina stiffened. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh sweetie,” the secretary cooed, “you think I didn’t see you eyeing my phone? I left it there on purpose.”
Regina felt cold.
The secretary giggled.
Actually giggled.
“I wanted you to take the bait.”
“Why?” Regina asked, voice barely a whisper.
“To make you destroy yourself,” the secretary said simply.
Regina’s breath froze in her throat.
The secretary leaned closer, her perfume suffocating Regina.
“See, if Bret’s cheating was the only scandal, he could blame me. Fire me. Replace me. Fix everything.”
She tilted her head, smiling like a wolf.
“But now? This whole disaster will be blamed on you.”
Regina’s heart dropped. “What?”
“You’re the only one who had a reason,” the woman continued. “You’re the jealous wife. The desperate poor woman. The unstable b***h who can’t control her feelings.”
She smirked deeper.
“Everyone here already thinks that.”
Regina looked around.
People were staring...shooting her quick glances filled with pity, suspicion, disgust.
The secretary placed her hand on Regina’s shoulder, squeezing it like she owned her.
“Congratulations,” she whispered. “You did exactly what I wanted.”
Regina felt her body heat up...not with anger, but with humiliation so deep she could drown in it.
“You set me up,” she breathed.
- Writer
