Chapter 3: Basking in Pleasure
While I was still trying to find my breath in this new world of pain and betrayal, life moved on elsewhere in the city — and Marcus… my Marcus, was basking in pleasure and deceit with her.
I imagined the scene too clearly — him, with that careless smirk he wore when he thought he'd won, and Charlotte, with her false sweetness and seductive tricks.
"Finally, we've gotten rid of the devil, isn't it?" she must have said, swirling her glass of wine with those perfectly painted nails.
And I could almost hear his voice, smooth and shallow:
"Yes, baby. Let's just forget about her. I'll be bringing the house documents for you to sign—it'll become yours now."
A bitter laugh escaped me even as I remembered his words. My house. My sweat. My name. And yet, he handed it to her as though it was nothing but a piece of paper.
"Awnn, thanks, honey," she must have whispered, kissing him until both were breathless.
They called that love. I called it poison wrapped in perfume.
And then, I heard him in my mind again:
"I've been thinking… let's go register our marriage tomorrow."
"Huh? Finally!" Charlotte's voice echoed in my thoughts. "I remember how I begged you to marry me in the past, and you said not until Frances was out of the way…"
Those words tore through me, because they were true. He had planned everything. And I, blind in love, had been the fool who trusted him.
I could picture them — laughing, running around like children, him chasing her into the room. My heart twisted. Once, that was us. Once, he said I was his forever.
Later that same day, while I sat in silence nursing the shards of my broken peace, Charlotte was busy living my life in luxury.
In some uptown boutique, her laughter filled the room. "I want the most expensive designs here," she demanded. "My husband will pay for everything."
Her husband.
The word stung, but I let the pain sit quietly in me. I had learned — some pains are better left undisturbed.
I heard the echoes of her arrogance even from afar. "Even if I have to change five times today, you'll do it," she said to a stylist who only nodded, helplessly hoping for her pay.
Two women soon arrived — Gladys and Messy. I knew them well. I once called them friends, but they had smiled in my face while sharpening their knives behind me.
"Oh, you're here!" Charlotte probably greeted them, dripping with fake sweetness. "Did you enjoy the ride? My husband arranged it."
"Yes, we did," Gladys had said, still trying to keep her tone light.
Charlotte laughed coldly. "You? Afford this place? Stop daydreaming."
Even in their envy, they couldn't see she was no queen — just a shadow wearing my crown.
And when the attendants brought out that white gown — the off-shoulder with silver petals — I could almost feel her pride from miles away.
She thought she had won. She thought taking my man, my home, and my name meant she had taken my destiny too.
But what she didn't know…
I was still standing. And I was watching.
Meanwhile, somewhere else in the city, Marcus's mother, Mrs. Troy Stary, was sipping her drink and flaunting her son's new title.
"Sure," she bragged to her friends, "my son is now the CEO of a company. If your poor children need a job, contact my son."
I smiled bitterly when I heard of it. A CEO? Of what? My sweat, my labor, my life.
When the women left, she sat with Marcus — her precious boy.
"My son, when's your wedding date?" she asked.
"Next week, Mum," he said proudly. "We've already gotten the marriage certificate."
I imagined her false smile, how she forced it even though her hands trembled. I knew Mrs. Stary. She was never at peace — and now, I knew why. Charlotte had found her secret, and she was using it well.
Marcus sighed, "Mother, have you heard anything about Frances?"
"Don't mention that bitch again!" she shouted.
The word didn't hurt this time. I'd been called worse, and still survived.
"I'm just asking—to be careful," he said quietly.
"Focus on your wedding," she snapped, her greed overshadowing reason.
"I want a glamorous ceremony," she continued. "All my friends will be there. We must spend big!"
"Mum, I told you the money is a loan—"
"What loan? Just do it as I said!"
He left soon after, slamming the door behind him, leaving her with her lies.
And I could almost see her sitting there in the silence that followed — trembling, terrified, and trapped in the very game she helped create.
For the first time, I knew she feared the woman her son was about to marry.
But she should.
Because what they buried wasn't gone — it was only waiting.
And I was still alive to dig it all back up.