Hell, It's Our Anniversary!

I couldn't wait to see Alexander's face when I walked through the door. Five years of marriage, and he still made my heart race like we were teenagers stealing kisses behind the bleachers.

The champagne bottle chilled against my palm as I balanced it carefully, the silk of my new lingerie whispering against my skin beneath my coat. La Perla, in his favorite shade of crimson. The saleswoman had winked when I bought it, saying, "He won't be able to take his eyes off you."

"Mrs. Blackwood, welcome home," our doorman said, tipping his hat as I entered our penthouse building. "Happy anniversary."

"Thank you, James." I smiled, feeling a flutter of excitement. "Is he home yet?"

"Mr. Blackwood arrived about an hour ago, ma'am."

Perfect. I'd caught an earlier flight from Chicago specifically to surprise him. Alexander hated when business trips cut into our anniversary celebrations. Last year, he'd sent a private jet to bring me home early—a gesture that had made me feel like the luckiest woman in Manhattan.

The elevator ride to our penthouse felt endless. I checked my reflection in the polished brass doors, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Five years, and I still wanted to be perfect for him.

Our wedding band played softly in my mind as I slipped my key into the lock. "Happy 5th Anniversary, my love," I whispered to myself, pushing the door open.

The sound hit me first.

A woman's moan, low and urgent.

"No, wait—oh God, Alex—"

My hand froze on the doorknob. The sound was coming from upstairs. From our bedroom.

"Keep going," a man's voice growled. "Just like that."

Alexander.

The champagne bottle slipped from my fingers, landing silently on the plush carpet. Something cold and heavy settled in my chest as I moved toward the staircase, my body numb.

Our bedroom door was ajar. Light spilled into the hallway, along with the unmistakable sounds of sex. I should have run. Should have screamed. Instead, I found myself moving closer, drawn by some terrible need to see.

"God, she was so naive," Chloe's voice drifted through the gap, tangled with pleasure. "Thinking you actually loved her."

My best friend. Since college. The maid of honor at our wedding.

I pushed the door open just enough to see inside.

They were on our bed—our marital bed—where Alexander had carried me after our wedding. Chloe was on top, her body arched as she rode him. My wedding dress—the one I'd preserved in acid-free tissue paper—was hiked around her waist.

"Tell me more about how boring she is," Chloe panted, leaning down to kiss him. "I want details."

Alexander's hands gripped her hips, driving her down harder. "Seraphina's so proper. Always the same position. Always so... controlled."

I pressed my hand against my mouth to stifle a sound. The TV across from our bed was on, playing our wedding video on mute. There I was, walking down the aisle toward Alexander, my face radiant with love and hope.

"Look at her," Chloe laughed, glancing at the screen. "So innocent. So clueless."

"Watch this," Alexander reached for something beside the bed. A small velvet box—the one I'd given him for his birthday last month. He opened it, revealing the diamond tennis bracelet I'd saved for months to buy him.

"This is what she thinks I'm giving her tonight," he said, snapping it around Chloe's wrist. "What do you think?"

"It's perfect," Chloe sighed, admiring how the diamonds caught the light. "When are we going to tell her?"

"Tell her what?" Alexander's voice hardened. "That I've been fucking you for two years? That we're planning to take her money and run?"

My knees buckled. I caught myself against the doorframe, my breathing shallow and fast.

"The insurance policy is worth five million," Alexander continued conversationally, as if discussing the weather. "We'll make it look like a break-in gone wrong. Maybe frame that homeless guy who always hangs around her office."

Chloe's laugh was sharp and cruel. "And she'll never suspect? Naive little Seraphina?"

"By the time anyone realizes what happened, we'll be long gone." Alexander's voice was so casual, so matter-of-fact. "The great Alexander Blackwood doesn't stay in one place too long. And neither does his money."

Something cracked in my chest. A sharp, searing pain that radiated through my body like lightning. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

"Alex—" Chloe's voice sounded distant suddenly. "Is something wrong?"

I tried to speak, to scream, to do anything but stand there frozen as my world collapsed around me. The pain intensified, spreading through my arms, my legs, my heart.

"Seraphina," Alexander's voice cut through the haze. Had he seen me? "She's so predictable. Always so trusting."

The room began to spin. The wedding video blurred, the images of our happier days smearing like watercolors in the rain.

"She thinks I'm working late," Alexander continued. "By the time she gets here, we'll be finished and I'll have a story ready about some emergency at the office."

My vision narrowed to pinpricks of light. The pain was unbearable now, crushing my chest like it was in a vise.

"Alex," Chloe's voice was urgent now. "Something's really wrong."

I tried to move, to call for help, but my body wouldn't respond. The last thing I saw was Alexander turning toward the door, his expression shifting from confusion to shock.

Then darkness.

---

I gasped awake, my heart hammering against my ribs.

For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was. Then it all came rushing back—the betrayal, the pain, the darkness.

But I wasn't in our bedroom hallway. I was in my car, parked outside our building.

I checked the time on my dashboard.

4:30 PM.

One hour before I'd walked in on them.

One hour before my heart attack.

I was back. An hour before it all happened.

My hands trembled as I gripped the steering wheel. The champagne and lingerie were on the seat beside me, untouched. Proof that this wasn't some strange dream or hallucination.

"Mrs. Blackwood?" My driver's voice came through the intercom. "We've arrived at your building."

"Yes," I said, my voice steadier than I expected. "Thank you."

I looked up at our penthouse windows, glowing warm against the darkening sky. Somewhere up there, Alexander and Chloe were probably already in bed, watching our wedding video, plotting my murder.

But this time, I wouldn't be the naive wife walking into their trap.

This time, I'd be ready.

And they had no idea what was coming.