Legally His Wife

POV: Valeria.

My lungs forgot how to function. I gaped at the diamond resting on Sylvia’s finger, my chest tightening as the devastating thought of what Roman had done behind my back took root. The room spun around me. I gasped for air, trying to force oxygen past the sheer panic gripping my throat. I pressed a hand to my collarbone. My breaths came in short, desperate hitches.

Sylvia sat back against the pristine cushions of my sofa, crossing her legs. She watched my visible struggle with mock concern. "Oh, are you okay? Do you need water?"

I closed my eyes for a second, forcing my erratic breathing to steady. The scent of her expensive perfume was suffocating. I opened my eyes and glared at her smug expression. "Stop pretending. You want me out of the picture. You want my husband. I am not a fool, Sylvia, so stop treating me like one."

Sylvia let out a high-pitched giggle in response. She held up her hand, spreading her fingers to admire the dazzling diamond. The morning light caught the facets of the heirloom stone, casting fractured rainbows across the walls of my living room. The intricate band of the engagement ring was unmistakably Roman’s grandmother’s. I had spent hours in the past cleaning the glass case it sat in, strictly forbidden from even touching the velvet box. Seeing it casually resting on Sylvia's finger felt like a knife twisting in my gut. I wanted to deny what I was seeing. I desperately wanted to give Roman an excuse to be decent, to believe there was no way he would propose to her while still legally bound to me.

Sylvia tilted her hand back and forth, her smile widening as she admired the jewel. "I see you staring at my ring. Do you like it? It happened yesterday. Right after you left us in the storm, actually."

My stomach dropped to the floor. She offered a warm smile, acting as though we were close friends catching up over afternoon tea. The man who had just placed that sacred family heirloom on her finger was my husband. How could she sit in my living room and speak with such casual cruelty?

I clenched my hands into fists at my sides. "Are you out of your mind?"

She brushed an imaginary speck of dust off her designer skirt. "I am happy, if I am being honest. Giving Roman up years ago was not easy. I was still very much in love with him when I left."

"Is that right?" I bit out the words.

She met my gaze, unblinking and unapologetic. "Yes. That is why I returned. I even stooped so low as to take that pathetic secretary job at his company. I did not need the paycheck or the work experience. I just took the position for the sole purpose of winning my man back."

Frustration boiled over, searing through my veins like liquid fire. I dragged my trembling hands through my hair and began to pace across the hardwood floor. She had the audacity to waltz into my home, sit on my furniture, and brag about orchestrating this entire affair right under my nose. I did not just blame her. I blamed Roman for making her feel so comfortable and untouchable in our shared space.

Sylvia blinked, feigning sudden realization of my distress as she pressed a hand to her chest. "Did I say something wrong?"

I stopped pacing and faced her, my voice echoing off the high ceilings. "I have had enough of your games! What is wrong with you? You thought you could just waltz in from wherever and steal my husband? You thought I would just sit back and watch in silence while you ruin my life?"

Sylvia stared at me. Her eyes widened in exaggerated shock. Then, she burst into hysterical laughter. The sound grated against my nerves. She laughed so hard she had to wipe away tears of mirth from the corners of her painted eyes, making sure not to smudge her flawless makeup.

She stood up, smoothing down the front of her clothes. "Are you being serious right now?"

I stood my ground, my chin held high. "You know I am serious. Roman might have proposed to you, but the undeniable fact remains that he is legally my husband. I am fighting to save my marriage."

Sylvia scoffed, her tone laced with pure disdain. "Are you okay in the head? Read the room, Valeria. Your entire marriage was nothing more than a paid business contract. He is paying you to play the role of his wife."

"The origins of our arrangement do not matter. He is still my husband."

She tilted her head, her gaze sweeping over me with pity. "You caught us making love last night. Are you really this desperate to hold onto a man who does not want you?"

"I will not let you walk in here and disrespect me."

Sylvia took a step closer, her voice dropping to a harsh, mocking whisper. "This is not disrespect. This is reality. Roman allowed you to walk home alone in the middle of a brutal storm. He did not care enough to check if you successfully got a cab. He did not care if you made it back alive. Instead, he chose to stay by my side and propose to me."

The painful truth of her words hit me like a physical blow. The air rushed out of my lungs all over again. My knees felt weak. The freezing rain had soaked through my clothes last night, chilling me to the bone. Every step I took on the dark pavement had been fueled by a desperate hope that he might come looking for me. I had shivered in the cold, telling myself he was just angry, that he would eventually call. Instead, he was in a warm room, getting down on one knee to offer her a future that belonged to me. Any other man caught cheating would have at least run after his wife to explain. Roman had threatened to call security on me.

Sylvia mocked my sudden lack of response. "We are silent now? Okay. Let us cut to the chase. How much?"

She reached into her expensive purse and pulled out her personal checkbook. She flipped it open and clicked a gold pen, looking at me with pure condescension.

"Tell me the exact price it will take to buy your departure from Roman's life. I am doing this for him. You have been stressing him out, and I cannot watch him suffer anymore."

Deeply insulted, heat flared in my cheeks. The arrogance of her gesture made my vision swim with red. She was treating my life, my marriage, and my dignity like a cheap commodity to be bargained over at a pawn shop. The sheer audacity of her offer snapped me out of my heartbreak.

"My marriage is not for sale."

She sneered, tapping the pen against the checkbook. "What marriage? Do you not realize you have been married to yourself all these years?"

"I am not listening to this anymore."

I turned my back on her to walk away from the toxic conversation. I needed to get away from her cloying perfume and her venomous words before I lost my temper.

But before I could take two steps, Sylvia seized my arm. Her sharp fingernails dug deep into my skin through the fabric of my sleeve, halting my escape. Her manicured nails were sharp enough to draw blood. The sudden burst of pain shot up to my shoulder.

"Let go of me, Sylvia."

She hissed, her grip tightening until pain flared down my bicep. "You are a nobody, Valeria. What gives you the right to casually walk away while I am still speaking?"

I tried to maintain my composure, but my patience was snapping. "You do not want to cross this line. You want Roman? Fine. You can have him."

She scoffed. "Do not sound like I need your permission to have him. Roman is mine. He has always rightfully been mine."

Panic spiked in my chest as her nails dug even deeper, drawing a wince from my lips. I instinctively yanked my arm, trying to wrench my trapped limb free from her tight grip. I put my weight into the movement, desperate to put physical distance between us.

Sylvia let go.

Instead of resisting my pull, she capitalized on my physical momentum. She threw her own weight backward. I watched in confused horror as she hurled herself down onto the hard foyer floor, grabbing the fabric of my shirt and pulling me down right along with her.

My knees slammed into the polished wood. The impact jolted up my spine. The instant Sylvia's body hit the ground, she let out a blood-curdling scream. She curled into a ball, clutching her shoulder, executing a flawless performance of physical agony.

"Ahhh! Roman!"

Completely disoriented by her sudden theatrics, I scrambled to push myself upright. I looked up toward the grand staircase to see what was happening.

The timing was impeccable.

Roman was taking the steps two at a time, his face pale and eyes wide as he rushed down directly toward her screaming form. His expensive dress shoes pounded against the marble stairs.

Sylvia immediately began whimpering pathetic lies, reaching a shaking hand out to him as tears streamed down her face. "Roman, she pushed me! I tried to talk to her, and she just attacked me!"

I scrambled to my feet, my heart hammering against my ribs. I had to defend my innocence. I had to make him see the truth of what really happened.

I stepped toward him, desperately opening my mouth to explain how she had grabbed me and thrown herself to the ground. "Roman, no! That is not what happened!"

I never got the chance.

Before another word could leave my lips, a sudden fire erupted across my left cheek. The physical force of the impact snapped my head to the side. The sharp smack of skin against skin echoed loudly in the vast foyer. My cheek burned with a blinding heat, the sting radiating down to my jaw. The sheer force behind his hand sent a shockwave through my entire skull. A sharp ringing pierced my ears. The world tilted on its axis.

I stumbled back, my vision blurring. I slowly lifted my trembling hand to cradle my burning face as the horrific, unthinkable reality fully sank into my mind.

My own husband had just slapped me.