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Falling for my Husband's Rival
img img Falling for my Husband's Rival img Chapter 4 Did you Touch It
4 Chapters
Chapter 6 The Envelope img
Chapter 7 Sean's Call img
Chapter 8 The Receipt img
Chapter 9 Breaking Point img
Chapter 10 Unfolding img
Chapter 11 No More Silence img
Chapter 12 The Emergency Call img
Chapter 13 Don't be Late img
Chapter 14 Shattered Illusions img
Chapter 15 Get Out img
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Chapter 4 Did you Touch It

Sarah's POV

"What are you doing on the floor?" Sean asked quietly, his voice hitting me like a cold splash of water.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry and useless. Behind me, the metal file box sat open, papers spread like a crime scene... proof of his double life.

"I...I couldn't sleep," I said, forcing the words out of my throat, my hands twisted together. "I am....I..I keep thinking about how life's been unfair to us."

He remained silent, his gaze drifting through the room, the dark shadows, the open wardrobe, the floor near my feet. It landed on my hands, clenched into tight fists. For one terrifying second, I was sure he'd spotted the gold seal on the Vant Apex Group file... and heard my heart screaming the truth.

Then, instinct took over. I had to hide it.

I moved quickly, leaning forward as if my legs had truly given out. My knee struck the box, nudging it into the wardrobe's shadows while I coughed loudly to cover the sound. As I shifted, I swept a stack of files under the curtain, hiding them from view.

Sean swung his legs off the bed and stood up. He instantly clicked the light on-harsh yellow light hitting my eyes, making me wince. My breath caught in my chest as he stood tall, staring down at me, face unreadable. Not angry, not soft... just alert. Like a man yanked from a dream he wasn't ready to leave.

"You have to be strong Sarah, okay?" he said, sounding concerned. But his tone didn't match his eyes... cold and searching.

"I told you, I can't sleep," I repeated, keeping my voice low and small.

He took a step closer to me. Then another, floorboards creaking beneath him. My heart pounded harder with each step. I braced myself, waiting for him to spot the file peeking from under the curtain, waiting for everything to blow up.

But he didn't look down. Instead, he reached out his hand toward me. "Come on," he said. "Get up off the floor."

I stared at his hand like it was a trap. I didn't want to take it. Every instinct in my soul screamed at me to run, to scream, to push him away... but I couldn't. Not now. Not when suspicion was hanging in the air like thick smoke.

I placed my trembling hand in his. His fingers closed around mine firmly, too firmly as he pulled me to my feet with a sudden strength that reminded me how much power he had always held over me. He guided me toward the bed, his grip never loosening.

"You scared me," he said as he sat me down on the mattress. "I woke up and you weren't here."

I said nothing. I couldn't trust my voice.

He sat beside me, turning to face me. For a long moment, he just looked, his eyes tracing my face, catching on my tight jaw and the tears I was fighting back. Then his expression shifted, softened... or maybe he just made it look that way.

"You've been worrying too much, Sarah," he murmured, raising his hand to my face. His thumb brushed lightly beneath my eye, wiping away a stray tear. "I told you, everything will be okay."

Before I could move or pull away, he leaned in and kissed me.

It wasn't a rough kiss, that was the part that frightened me the most. It was slow and deliberate. His hands felt warm as they rested on my back, pulling my tired body closer to his. I felt frozen, and stayed rigid while he deepened the kiss, acting as if his touch could erase the five years of lies.

His fingers slid down to the hem of my clothes, tugging gently at the fabric.

"Sean," I whispered, turning my face away so he couldn't reach my lips.

He paused. His forehead rested against mine, his breath warm on my skin as he asked, "What's wrong?"

I forced myself to breathe. I had to play the part. "I don't feel well," I said quickly. "My head hurts so much. I think... I think I'm coming down with something. I feel a fever starting."

He studied me again. For a second, I saw a flicker of suspicion in his eyes, like he was trying to see through my mask.

"I've just been thinking," I added. I let my voice tremble on purpose. "About money. About how we will pay for medicine if I get worse. The kids need so much, Sean. The rent is almost due, and the fridge is empty."

That did it. The mention of money acted like a cold wind. He pulled back immediately. His face hardened, the 'softness' vanishing in a second.

"I told you," he said sharply, standing up and walking away from the bed. "I'm broke."

The word 'broke' felt like acid in my ears. I knew he had millions, if not billions. I'd seen the papers.

"I don't have anything to give you right now," he continued, pacing the room. "Maybe after this trip... if things go well, I might have a little money then."

'A little!' He was talking about a few dollars while he carried a black card that could buy the whole street.

I looked up at him. Disgust twisted deep in my stomach, making me want to throw up again. Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. He noticed the wetness in my eyes anyway.

"Hey," he said, his voice dropping again, into that fake, calm tone. "Why are you crying now?"

I shook my head and looked at the wall. "I'm just tired, Sean. I'm just so tired."

He sighed, sounding annoyed that I was being difficult. He came back to the bed and sat beside me. "You worry too much, Sarah. I keep telling you, things will change. You just have to trust me."

'Trust.' The word echoed painfully in my mind. How could he say that word?

He kissed my forehead once, like he was sealing a lie. "I have to get back to bed," he murmured. "Big day tomorrow." He lay back down, turned his back to me, and within minutes, his breathing slowed, steady and even. He was asleep.

I didn't sleep. I couldn't.

I sat there, staring at the back of his head. My body was buzzing with a mix of fear and pure rage. Very carefully, I stood up without making a sound, and moved back to the wardrobe like a ghost.

My hands moved fast now, fueled by panic. I returned every single file to its exact position, and made sure they were in the same order I found them. I wiped the box with my sleeve to remove any marks. I closed it, locked it, and slid it back into the dark corner where it belonged. I checked the floor for any stray papers, checked the bed, and checked the wardrobe. When I was done, there was no sign I had ever touched anything.

Only then, did I lie back down. But even then, my eyes stayed open.

Morning came much too fast. I woke to the sound of running water in the bathroom. Sean was already in the shower. I lay perfectly still, heart pounding against the mattress.

He hummed a happy song, zipped his bag, fastened his watch... sounding like a man with a clear conscience as he stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in a crisp shirt, looking confident. He went straight to the wardrobe.

I watched him through my eyelashes, pretending to be half-asleep. He knelt down. My breath stopped in my lungs.

He pulled out the metal box and placed it on the floor in the middle of the room.

What is he doing? my mind screamed.

He frowned as he unlocked it, flipping through the files slowly, his fingers moving with deliberate care. The papers I had carefully put back only hours ago lay exposed beneath his hands. He said nothing.

Then he straightened and turned toward the bed.

"Sarah." His voice was sharp enough to cut. I opened my eyes and met his stare.

"Did you touch this box?" he asked, his gaze locked onto mine.

I stayed perfectly still. The room seemed to hold its breath with me. Did he notice something was missing? Was he counting the files?

My hand slid instinctively toward my stomach under the blanket. My fingers brushed against the fabric of my nightshirt. Then, I felt it. The thin, sharp edge of a photograph. My heart dropped into my stomach as the realization slammed into me.

The photo. I'd slipped it into my clothes last night to get a clear view of it, and in the panic to put the files back, I'd left it on me.

My pulse roared in my ears as Sean stared at me, waiting for an answer.

Had he already noticed the photo was gone? Or was he about to find out? I couldn't tell. And that terrified me most.

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