Chapter 2 Chapter: 2

LAYLA

I ignored her and took the stairs. I pushed open the first door. It was the walk-in closet.

My breath caught as I recognized the designer brands hanging neatly inside, some of which I'd personally bought for Spencer.

Stella leaned against the door frame, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction at the devastation on my face.

“You know, when I first met Spencer, I never thought he was a beast in bed, it had to do with his serious businessman image,” she said. “But oh my God, I soon found out how very, very wrong I was.”

I quietly closed the closet and opened the next door, my heart pounding with rage as I tried to tune Stella's voice out.

The sight of the unmade bed stopped me cold. For several seconds, my feet refused to move as Stella continued her taunting.

“Did you know the first time he fucked me, it was so good I nearly passed out?” she sighed dreamily. “It was explosive. Spencer couldn't stop talking about my tight body, about how different and good I felt. He's such a smooth talker. He really knows how to make a girl feel special.”

She giggled as though she'd said something amusing. Her words shouldn't have affected me.

But God, did they hurt.

I swallowed the pain, forcing myself to numb everything around me as I stepped farther into the room.

One of Spencer's customized boxers—the pair I'd had specially made for him—lay crumpled on the floor beside a scrap of red lace panties.

I couldn't bear to look at them, even as I discreetly took a picture. Then my gaze dropped lower.

A pair of used condoms.

My blood turned to ice. On the nightstand sat a framed photograph of Spencer and Stella, smiling so wide at the camera as they hugged each other close.

If I'd had even the smallest shred of hope that Spencer still loved me, that picture obliterated it.

I instinctively knew when it had been taken.

Last summer. The same summer, Chloe had been hospitalized.

I'd called Spencer sobbing, convinced our daughter wasn't going to survive this latest complication from her heart disease.

He'd lied to me.

He'd claimed he was on an important business trip that could change the future of our company. He promised he'd catch the first flight home the moment he was done.

Now I knew he'd been on a trip, all right. Just not the one I'd believed.

While our daughter fought for her life in a hospital bed, he'd been off making memories with his mistress.

“I mean, the man has needs...” Stella's shrill voice snapped me back to reality. I stormed out of the room, and she followed close behind.

“It's obvious, isn't it?” she said, her eyes glittering with amusement.

“He's not getting what he needs from you. That's why he's always here with me to someone who can take care of his needs. He's practically moved in, we are always together, we even travel together. And I know you two haven't...” She paused dramatically before smirking. “...you know... in forever.”

“We haven't what?” I asked, even as a painful lump lodged in my throat.

I was hanging by a thread. If Stella had any idea how close I was to exploding, she'd finally shut her damn mouth.

She shrugged casually. “When was the last time you and Spencer had sex?”

“That's none of your business,” I snapped.

The truth was... I couldn't remember.

I'd been consumed with running our company from home, raising Chloe, and caring for my mother, whose Alzheimer's had steadily worsened.

I'd simply assumed Spencer had been just as consumed with work.

It wasn't as though I hadn't tried to rekindle what we'd lost. Spencer never seemed to have time for anything besides work.

Seemed.

That was the key word. Because it was painfully obvious now that he was only too busy for me.

“He told me he couldn't even get it up with you,” Stella said with a cruel smirk. “That your body doesn't turn him on anymore. That there wasn't a single thing about you, he found attractive.”

Her gaze slowly traveled from my head to my feet.

“I mean... can you really blame him? Poor Spencer is already stressed with work, and then he has to come home to a wife who can't even satisfy him. Honestly, he's one in a million. With his looks, reputation, and money, he could have any beautiful young woman he wanted. Instead, he's stuck with a jinx like you... and a weak, sickly daughter dragging him down.”

That did it. I whipped toward her, glaring at her. “Don't you dare talk about my daughter, you stupid bitch.”

Stella lifted both hands in mock surrender.

“Relax. It's not your fault you're getting old. I mean, what man wouldn't choose a beautiful young woman like me instead?”

I'd ignored every insult she'd thrown my way because I hadn't come here to fight.

But every word that came out of her mouth had been deliberately chosen to mock me and provoke me. To twist the knife already buried deep in my chest.

Slowly, I turned to face her. “You know,” I said calmly, “it's been a long time since I've met someone as dumb as you.”

Her smile faltered.

“You're nothing more than a warm body, Spencer fucks at his convenience. You're not special. The day he gets bored of you, he'll replace you with someone younger, just like this.” I snapped my fingers.

I smiled. “But me, on the other hand, I'm not just his wife.” I held her gaze. “I'm Spencer's business partner. Everything he owns is half mine.”

Her expression twisted with rage.

“Everything you're so proud of,” I continued quietly. "This house. Your car. That diamond around your neck. Even the food in your refrigerator...”

I glanced around the lavish living room below.

“...was bought with our hard-earned money.”

I looked back at her. “So this house and everything Spencer bought for you is half mine.”

“That's a lie!” Stella shrieked, storming after me. “This is my house! I bought it with my own money! It has nothing to do with Spencer. Even if you divorce him, it'll still be mine.”

“My lawyers can argue that in court.”

“You bitch! I'm going to make Spencer throw you out of his house and out of his life—you and that weak, sickly child of yours!”

She screamed the last words just as I started down the staircase. I whipped around, my voice deadly calm.

“What the hell did you just say, you dumb bitch?”

My hand shot toward her. She jerked back just in time, and instead of striking her face, I knocked the wineglass from her hand.

The glass shattered against the floor.

Stella's eyes widened as her foot slipped. Her arms flailed wildly as she stumbled backward. I reached for her but it was already too late.

Everything happened in slow motion. Like watching a train wreck, I couldn't stop. I stared in horror as Stella's screams were swallowed by pure shock.

Then she tumbled down the staircase, rolling

over and over. Her head slammed violently against the sharp edge of a marble step before the rest of her body crashed onto the floor below with a sickening crack.

Then there was nothing but terrifying silence.

Blood slowly spread beneath her head, pooling on the white marble tiles.

My stomach dropped.

I stood frozen at the top of the stairs, unable to move, unable to breathe. Stella's body lay completely still.

Then the realization came, unbidden.

Stella was dead. Oh, my god, I'd killed her.