CHAPTER 5: The Trap of Wealth

Victoria's POV

The drive home was quick. My thoughts spun uncontrollably, fueled by the bitter cocktail of betrayal and anger. The image of Ethan and Lily together replayed in my head like a cruel nightmare. By the time I reached the front door, I was trembling—not from fear, but from the effort it took to hold myself together.

I felt like screaming out loudly till the whole world heard me, and maybe, just maybe I'd feel better.

Inside, the house was quiet except for the soft murmur of the TV in the living room. Ethan sat there, relaxed, his tie loosened, a glass of whiskey cradled in one hand. He looked up as I entered, a faint smile on his lips.

"Babe," he greeted warmly, standing and moving toward me as though nothing at all had changed, as though he hadn't fucked my best friend and made fun of me in this very same living room.

His arms stretched out for a hug but I stepped back. His smile faltered.

"What's wrong?" he asked, frowning slightly, his voice was calm but there was an edge of annoyance that irritated me further.

I didn't answer. Instead, I reached into my bag, my movements deliberate. My fingers closed around my phone, and I pulled it out. His gaze flickered to it, curiosity etched on his face and he watched as I wordlessly tapped the screen and held it up, playing the surveillance video I had found.

His reaction was slow at first. A slight narrowing of his eyes, the faint tightening of his jaw. Then, as recognition dawned, his features hardened. And there was a sudden darkness in his eyes, one which had been concealed for so long.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, his tone sharp and accusing.

"Does it matter?" I replied, I kept my voice low and steady despite the tremor in my hands.

His nostrils flared as he took a step closer. "It does matter. Were you spying on me?"

Such audacity....

My heart clenched painfully but I met his glare head-on, refusing to back down. "No, Ethan. I didn't need to spy on you. You're reckless. You made it easy."

His expression darkened further, and he reached for my phone. The look in his eyes told me he wanted to get rid of the recording immediately. I pulled it back quickly, holding it out of his reach.

"Delete it," he demanded, his voice cold and commanding.

He had suddenly changed, he was nothing like the warm and welcoming man I loved; he was suddenly cold, dark, and distant. But a part of me wanted the Ethan I knew back, a part of me wanted my husband back.

"Not until you end it with her," I said firmly. I wasn't going to back down.

He let out a short, bitter laugh, one almost laced with mockery. "End it? With Lily? Are you serious right now?"

"Yes," I snapped, my voice rising. I couldn't keep calm anymore. "Either you cut ties with her, or this marriage is over."

His laughter deepened, filled with derision. "You really think it's that simple, don't you?" He moved closer, his tone dripping with condescension. He seemed almost alien to me now, it seemed like I didn't know him at all. "Lily is important—not just to me, but to my business. She has connections you couldn't even begin to understand. Do you think I'm going to jeopardize that because of your little tantrum?"

I recoiled, his words slicing through me. "This isn't a tantrum, Ethan. This is about respect—about our marriage!"

It was probably a weak comeback but it was all I had. I had never gotten into an argument with him, there had never been a need to; we had understood each other, we had cared about each other, or at least that was what I thought.

I knew better now, and I understood that all along he had been acting—merely playing the role of what he knew would keep me wrapped around his fingers.

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Our marriage is fine. You get what you want, don't you? The house, the lifestyle, the privileges. What more do you need?"

I stared at him, my disbelief turning into anger. "What more do I need?" I echoed, my voice trembling with rage. "I need a husband who doesn't cheat on me! I need a husband who respects me!"

His smirk returned, cruel and unapologetic. "You're being dramatic, Victoria. I've given you everything. What more could you possibly ask for?"

I couldn't hold back any longer. "I'm asking you to choose, Ethan. Either her or me."

My throat felt so tight; it had clenched so much that I couldn't breathe. Tears prickled the back of my eyes but I blinked them back, determined to not let them fall. My heart pounded heavily with each second that passed. I waited anxiously for his reply, almost breathlessly.

He stilled, his expression shifting from amusement to something colder, sharper. "You're making demands now?"

"Yes," I replied immediately, standing my ground. "I won't live like this. If you don't end things with her, I want a divorce."

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of my words hanging heavy in the air. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face—a smile that sent a chill down my spine. Behind his eyes, something wicked lurked, something dark, malicious, and wicked.

"A divorce?" he repeated, his tone mocking. "And what exactly are you planning to do without me? You've never lived on your own, Victoria. Do you even know how to pay a bill?"

I glared at him, my hands clenched into fists. "I don't need you, Ethan. I have my parents' property, and I'm entitled to my share in a divorce."

His smile widened, his eyes gleaming with something sinister. "Your share?" he said, almost laughing.

He turned away, moving to the desk in the corner of the room. I watched as he pulled open a drawer and retrieved a stack of papers. He flipped through them casually before walking back and placing them on the table between us.

"Do you recognize this?" he asked, tapping the top page with his finger.

I stepped closer, dread pooling in my stomach. My eyes scanned the document, and my heart sank as I saw my signature at the bottom.

"This," he said, his voice almost gleeful, "is the prenuptial agreement you signed a year ago. It clearly states that if you leave this marriage, you leave with nothing. No money, no property, no support. Just the clothes on your back."