The revenge of my husband

She is sitting in a luxurious five-star hotel where each and everything is just imported: the table, the couch, the lights and everything. Only light and as far as my eyes can reach, and I wish one percentage of this light she could have in her life, then perhaps she would be honored. Her gaze is meandering around the entire place that screams only one thing: loyalty and richness. Each individual wears costly things from head to toe. The brand they are wearing maybe she will not be able to even articulate. She is also wearing a branded dress named Louis Vuitton, a diamond necklace, and a diamond ring. But the difference is, they may have received gifts from their loved ones, but she received them as a reward for being his Trophy wife. She was simply sitting on the seat all numb. Everyone might be from a high class business or investors or outsiders. They look very bewitching. She simply feels like an outcast. She never thought her life ended up being this awful. She has only one thing: money and money, with no regard to no freedoms. She realizes very well there is no chance to get out. Regardless of the amount she attempted, by the day's end she simply remained in the same position. She thought she would marry her lover, her precious first love. The allure of a fairy-tale romance had led her to believe in love, yet the reality of her life was way too depressing. Each day, she adorned herself with jewels and draped herself in luxurious fabrics, but her eyes empty, vacant, sadness that dwelled within her soul. Her heart, once brimming with the promise of love and happiness, now ached with the emptiness of unfulfilled dreams. Her heart ached every time she looked at herself; she was nothing but an empty shell, always dolled up in makeup, only to be ruined by her darling husband, who didn't give a f**k about his wife. Her existence had been reduced to that of a mere trophy, an ornament for her husband to display to the world. Every step she took, every action she performed, was dictated by his commands. In fact, she was just a pawn in his grand game. She may be a human but all her movements are controlled by her precious husband. She observed her husband engrossed in laughter with a colleague—a woman whose beauty seemed to captivate his attention. Their laughter echoed around the party, cutting off the soft music, which was not loud at all. She handed him a glass, which he gladly accepted from her. She couldn't help but imagine that if she had offered the same glass, his reaction might have been one of disdain or worse. He might have thrown the glass over her face, he hates her. Exactly her husband hated her, he despised her. He hates everything about me. He still needs me at night in his bed since he needed a release, he needed someone with whom he could release all his stress. His punching bag and that punching bag and stress reliever was me, his lawfully wedded trophy wife. The duality of their relationship was a bitter pill to swallow. The same person who despised her in the light of day sought solace in her presence during the dark hours of the night. She became a vessel for his frustrations. Her chain of thoughts shattered as the side of the couch sank under the weight of someone's presence. Turning her gaze in that direction, she was met with the sight of an extraordinarily handsome man. Handsome might be less since he was way too good-looking, he seemed to be perfect. As her eyes absorbed the vision before her, she couldn't help but be entranced by his striking appearance. That handsome guy flashed his multimillion-dollar smile at her, before extending his hand, “Hey, you’re alone in all the chaos at the party. Can I consider that because I was not there to accompany you?” teased her out of nowhere. She chuckled at his playful remark, charmed by the charisma exuding from the handsome stranger. It'd been so many days since someone talked to her nicely. She found herself drawn to the conversation. “You’re nothing but a warmer in my bed, do you get it?” She hesitated for a moment, debating whether to accept his friendly handshake or not? With a hint of amusement in her eyes, she replied, "Well, aren't you the master of smooth talk? I suppose I’ll have to accept your company to rescue me from the chaos then." They shook hands; she couldn't help but notice the twinkle in his eye and the genuine warmth of his smile. "So, what brings you over to the quiet corner with the lone wanderer?" he inquired, curious about her. “Nothing, I am just not into parties. I often find solace in quiet corners away from the madness.” He nodded, appreciating her words, and suddenly, he slapped his hand over his forehead, “Opps, I forgot to introduce myself..” He again extended his hand towards me, “Hi, I’m Jackson Wang, from China.” She reciprocated her smile and gave her hand a friendly shake, before introducing herself, “Hi, I’m Emily Stefano Rossi.” Her voice dropped slightly when she mentioned the name Stefano. Her name, Stefano, was something she didn’t want to do. Jackson noticed the name Stefano with her name. However, it wasn't until his eyes flickered to her hand that the realization struck him like a bolt and his eyes widened in surprise. Before he could filter his thoughts, the words escaped his lips, "You're married?" It was as if he had spoken to himself, the realization dawning on him in an unguarded moment. Caught in a moment of awkward silence, Jackson quickly composed himself, offering a sheepish smile. "I didn't mean to pry. It's just, well, I didn't notice the ring before. I hope I didn't make things awkward." Hearing his words, Emily gave the sleepiest smile, "It's fine. Most people make mistakes." He noticed there was a sudden shift in her expression; she didn’t seem to be happy with her marriage. Her excitement always got demised whenever she talked about her husband. Talking about his husband, he remembered if his wife was there then her husband must have been around. Meanwhile, Stefano observed the scene from a distance, his attention captured by the interaction unfolding between Emily and the charismatic stranger. He couldn't help but wonder what had sparked such happiness in her expression. " See your purported spouse is playing with one of the most charming rich single guys." Startled, he turned to find Shasa, his long-term girlfriend, whispering sensually into his ear. Shasa, Stefano's girlfriend, had been a part of his life for almost three years. She shared a unique connection with his sister, Jennie, who happened to be her best friend. She never liked Emily because she did not belong to high status like them. Stefano clenched his jaws and the tight grip on his glass did not go unrecognized by her. Seizing the opportunity, she subtly poured more fuel on the simmering fire of his frustration. Her discourse about Emily, delivered with a touch of malicious intent, only served to stoke the flames of his rage. She observed the impact of her words on Stefano, who had been silently watching the unfolding scene between Emily and the charismatic stranger. The atmosphere around Stefano crackled with tension as the frustration inside him intensified. His angry gaze remained fixed on the scene. He'd been watching them for so long, but they, or especially, she seemed totally unbothered. Stefano's breaking point arrived as he witnessed the scene unfolding before him. The charismatic stranger, with a certain audacity, took Emily's hand in his hand. The smile adorned her face only intensified by that stranger. Swallowing the last remnants of his quality wine in one swift gulp, his expression transformed into a mixture of anger and frustration. With a sense of urgency, he dashed towards them. In the blink of an eye, he seized Emily's hand from him. The suddenness of the action left both Emily and the stranger momentarily stunned, caught off guard by the swift and unexpected intervention. Jackson, observing him, finally woke up, "Excuse me, who are you?" "Her owner." — Those words fell from his mouth casually, without even bothering him he was talking in front of others. His eyes fell on her, who seemed to be terrified only by his presence. Each and every word is screaming his territory as if he had stepped his feet into the lion's den. The tension in the room heightened as his words hung in the air. Without waiting for a response, he yanked Emily's hand and made her stand on her feet. Jackson tried to ease the tension by saying, "Relax, man, we are just talking." His words had a calming undertone, attempting to calm down the escalating suspicion. However, he responded with a hint of sarcasm, "Yeah, I can see." His mocking tone revealed the skepticism. His dark eyes remained fixed on Emily, who stood shivering under his touch. Emily felt beads of sweat forming on her forehead, anxiety building within her as she contemplated her punishment. The way Stefano held her hand made it clear how much he was pissed off by her. With a forceful grip, he dragged her away from the party. Jackson, left standing and watching their disappearing figures, couldn't help but question his actions. He mumbled, "Did I make a mistake?" As they moved away, his grip tightened even further, threatening to leave bruises on her skin. He guided her forcefully into a waiting car.