He once called me the most beautiful woman in the world. Now that he had power and wealth, I was nothing but a stain on his perfect life.
I forced myself to stand, my gaze burning into him despite the tears blurring my vision.
"Adam, I won't stay with you for another second." My voice trembled, but the resolve behind it was steel. "I want a divorce."
His rage evaporated instantly, replaced by a terrifyingly soft demeanor. He stepped forward and caught me by the waist, pulling me close.
"I was wrong just now," he murmured, low and coaxing. "I got too worked up."
He smoothed my hair, playing the doting husband. "Divorce is serious, Layla. We've been together over a decade. You can't just throw that word around."
I forced a smile, masking the cold hatred taking root in my chest. I let my demeanor soften, mirroring the submissive wife he wanted.
"You're right. We shouldn't end things so easily."
I'll drag him back to the bottom, I thought. He'll taste every ounce of pain he's inflicted on me.
He exhaled, satisfied he'd managed me once again. He ushered me toward the car and shoved me inside.
The interior reeked—the unmistakable, musky scent of sex that hadn't yet faded.
My gaze fell to the passenger seat. Crumpled in the corner lay a pair of torn lace stockings.
Adam followed my gaze. His eyes widened. He snatched the stockings and hurled them out the window, then raised a hand like he was taking an oath.
"I swear, this is the last time." Desperation crept into his tone. "Don't post that video. If it gets out, it'll ruin us both."
I met his gaze and scoffed.
"Are you afraid it'll affect us? Or that it'll destroy Lola?"
He stiffened. Guilt flashed across his face before anger masked it. He turned the key.
"I can't explain right now. Think whatever you want!"
He drove in silence until we reached the overpass. Then a specific ringtone filled the cabin—melodious, unmistakable.
His special tone for Lola.
That ringtone once belonged to me.
He answered immediately. Her voice, shrill and sobbing, echoed through the speakers.
"Adam, I resigned from the company. With something like this exposed, I... I can't go on living!"
Her sobs mixed with howling wind.
"You and your wife should be happy together. I was just an extra in your story—I shouldn't have existed."
Through the windshield, I spotted a figure on the overpass railing. Lola stood at the edge, dress fluttering in the gale like a broken butterfly. Below churned the dark, bottomless sea.
Adam panicked. He checked his phone.
Only then did he see it—a video uploaded minutes ago. The recording from inside the car, exposing their affair to the world.
Veins bulged on his forehead. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel.
I froze, feigning ignorance. "What's wrong?"
His roar nearly shattered my eardrums.
"I told you I wouldn't do it again! Why are you so relentless?" He turned on me, eyes wild. "What did Lola do wrong? She just made me feel good—do you have to be this vicious?"
He didn't waste another second. He unbuckled, scrambled out, and sprinted toward the bridge's edge.
In the distance, Lola swayed in the wind, looking ready to plummet at any moment. Pitiful. Fragile. A perfect performance.
"Lola! Come down—don't do this!"
His eyes were rimmed red, and for the first time in years, I saw a tear slide down his cheek.
I sat there, stunned.
I remembered accompanying him to a high-stakes negotiation. We were intercepted by kidnappers. To protect him, I took a knife to the gut. As I lay in the ambulance, bleeding out and hovering on the brink of death, his eyes had been red too.
But he never shed a single tear for me.
I clenched my hands, bile rising. The bitterness was suffocating.
He was still running, his voice carrying as he coaxed Lola.
Then the car lurched.
My face went pale. In his rush to save his mistress, Adam had left the engine running, the car in neutral. He hadn't engaged the parking brake.
It began rolling forward, gathering speed toward the gap in the railing.
I stomped the brake. It sank uselessly to the floor.
The brakes had failed.
Terror seized me. I scrambled for my phone, fingers trembling as I dialed him.
Through the windshield, I saw him glance at his screen. He saw my name. With a look of impatience, he declined the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket.
His heart was filled only with Lola.
Desperation clawed at my throat. I rolled down the window and screamed.
"Adam! Save me! The brakes failed!"
"Adam, save me!"
No matter how loud I screamed, he didn't turn around. He acted as if I didn't exist.
As the car plunged toward the edge, I saw Lola look past his shoulder.
She looked directly at me.
And smirked.
