Chapter 2

Dessie was one of the best software architects the company had. Before transferring to this small branch to be with Craig, she had been a rising star at the city office.

Her work was groundbreaking. She had single-handedly designed the core architecture for two of the company' s most profitable software suites.

Craig' s promotion was built on the back of her latest project. He had managed the team, but she had been the lead architect, the one who solved the impossible problems and worked through the nights. He took the credit, and she had been happy to let him. His success was their success. Or so she thought.

She had turned down the lead on Project Chimera, a critical government contract, three times. Each time, Elek Preston had personally tried to persuade her. Each time, she had said no. She wanted to focus on supporting Craig and preparing for their move back to the city.

Now, that loyalty felt like a joke. The project was no longer an opportunity she was sacrificing; it was a lifeline she was grabbing with both hands.

"Are you sure about this, Dessie?" Elek Preston' s voice was serious over the phone. "This is a high-security project. It' s a minimum one-year commitment, on-site, in a remote location."

"I' m sure," Dessie said.

"I' m glad to hear it," Elek said, his tone warming. "Frankly, you' re the only person I trust to pull this off."

"Thank you, Elek."

"Should I inform Craig? As your current manager, he' ll need to sign off on the transfer."

A cold resolve settled over Dessie. "No. Don' t tell him anything. This is a direct transfer from you. I want it kept completely confidential until I' m gone."

There was a brief silence. Elek was sharp; he knew something was wrong. "Understood. The transport will pick you up tomorrow morning. Be ready."

"I will be."

She hung up and walked out of Craig' s empty office. The decision felt like the first clean breath she had taken all day.

She returned to her own workspace to gather a few personal items. As she rounded the corner, she saw a small crowd gathered near Craig' s department.

In the center of it stood Chanel Murphy. She was holding a box of personal belongings, a bright, sweet smile on her face as Craig introduced her to the team.

"Everyone, this is my wonderful wife, Chanel. She' ll be joining us as my new administrative assistant."

Colleagues clapped and offered congratulations. The air was thick with their fawning praise.

Dessie froze. She remembered all the times Craig had insisted they keep their own marriage a secret.

"It' s better for our careers, Dessie," he' d said. "We don' t want people thinking I' m showing you favoritism. Let' s let our work speak for itself."

She had agreed. She had believed it was about professional integrity. She had thought their love was a private, precious thing that didn' t need public validation.

Now, seeing him parade Chanel around like a trophy, she understood the real reason. He wasn' t protecting her career. He was keeping his options open.

The pain was a bitter acid in her stomach. All those quiet anniversaries, the holidays spent with just the two of them because he didn' t want to "complicate things with the office." It was all a lie.

Chanel' s eyes met hers across the room. A slow, triumphant smile spread across her perfectly made-up face. It was a look of pure victory.

Something inside Dessie snapped. The humiliation, the betrayal, the sheer injustice of it all boiled over. She walked straight toward them.

The chattering died down as she approached.

"Craig," Dessie said, her voice dangerously quiet.

He turned, his smile faltering when he saw her expression. "Dessie. What is it?"

She ignored him and looked directly at Chanel. "Who are you?"

The colleagues exchanged confused glances. Chanel' s sweet facade tightened. She clutched Craig' s arm.

"I... I' m Chanel," she stammered, her eyes wide with feigned innocence. "Craig' s wife."

"That' s funny," Dessie said, her voice rising. "Because I' m Craig' s wife."

A collective gasp went through the office. People stared, their eyes darting between the two women.

Chanel' s eyes filled with tears. She buried her face in Craig' s shoulder. "Craig, what is she talking about? She' s scaring me."

"Dessie, stop it," Craig hissed, his face a mask of fury. "You' re making a scene."

"She' s a liar!" Dessie' s voice shook with rage. "We are married! You two are the adulterers!"

"That' s a serious accusation, Dessie," one of the senior managers said, stepping forward. "Do you have any proof?"

Proof. The word hung in the air. The fake certificate in her lockbox. The official records that now showed Chanel as his legal wife. She had nothing.

"He tricked me!" she cried, desperation creeping into her voice. "He made me sign divorce papers!"

The crowd looked at her with pity and suspicion. She sounded unhinged. A woman scorned.

Chanel sobbed harder. "I don' t understand. Craig, why is she saying these horrible things?"

Just then, Craig appeared at the entrance to the department. He took in the scene, his eyes landing on Dessie.

Chanel saw him and her act intensified. She took a step toward Dessie, her hand outstretched as if to reason with her.

"Please, just calm down," Chanel whispered.

Then, she suddenly grabbed Dessie' s hand, her grip surprisingly strong. Dessie instinctively tried to pull away.

"Let go of me!"

"You' re hurting me," Chanel whispered, her voice a venomous hiss only Dessie could hear. "You' re going to regret this."

With a theatrical cry, Chanel stumbled backward and threw herself to the floor, as if Dessie had violently pushed her.

"Chanel!" Craig yelled.

He rushed past Dessie, not even looking at her, and knelt beside his new wife. He cradled her in his arms, looking up at Dessie with a look of such pure, cold hatred that it stole the air from her lungs.

To everyone in the room, it was clear. Dessie Hunt was the villain.