Chapter 3

I watched them go, Mark' s arm draped possessively around Sarah' s shoulders. A wave of numbness washed over me, a chilling emptiness that was worse than the cold water. He had chosen her. So easily.

I was shivering violently, my clothes clinging to me like a second skin. My arm throbbed where Mark had gripped it. I managed to pull myself out of the pool, my body feeling heavy and weak.

I stumbled into the house, dripping water all over the pristine marble floors I had chosen myself. I grabbed my phone from my bag. It was buzzing nonstop.

The screen lit up with notifications. News articles, social media posts, messages from colleagues.

"Renowned Architect Olivia Reed in Shocking Classroom Scandal."

"University Professor's Inappropriate Conduct Exposed by Student."

My heart sank. I clicked on a link, and my own humiliated face stared back at me. The photo was everywhere. It had been screenshotted, shared, and turned into a cruel meme. My private moment, a symbol of trust I'd given to Mark, was now public entertainment.

I scrolled through the comments, each one a fresh stab of pain. "Slut." "Disgusting." "She should be fired."

I understood now. This was Mark's doing. Or Sarah's. It didn't matter. They wanted to destroy me, to ruin my career and my reputation until I had nothing left, until I had no choice but to crawl back to him.

Just then, an official email popped up. It was from the university dean.

"Dear Professor Reed, due to the recent serious incident and the resulting damage to the university's reputation, your contract has been terminated, effective immediately."

I was fired.

A second later, I was removed from all the faculty group chats. My digital professional life was erased in an instant. I was an outcast.

"See what you've done?"

Mark' s voice made me jump. He was standing in the doorway, watching me, his expression a mixture of anger and a strange sort of satisfaction.

"You pushed me too far, Olivia," he said, walking towards me. He sounded like the victim. "I told you to behave. Why do you always have to make things so difficult?"

He reached out and gently brushed a wet strand of hair from my face. The gesture was so familiar, so tender, yet it felt disgusting.

"I know you're just angry," he murmured, his voice softening. "But you don't have to do this. We can go back to how things were. I'll still take care of you. You'll always be my girl."

His hypocrisy was breathtaking. He destroyed my career and then offered to take care of me.

"But you have to learn your place," he continued, his tone hardening again. "Sarah is with me now. You need to accept that. You can still be the woman of this house, but you have to be nice to her."

I stared at him, my mind reeling. He wanted me to accept his mistress, to live in a house with her, to be part of his sick little harem.

"Are you insane?" I whispered. "Do you hear yourself?"

"Why are you being so difficult?" he said, his patience snapping. "I'm offering you everything! I still love you, Olivia. Don't you know that?"

He tried to pull me into a hug, but I flinched away from his touch as if he were on fire.

"Don't touch me," I said, my voice filled with revulsion. "You make me sick."

I looked past him and saw a collection of expensive skincare products on the counter, the kind I had researched and bought for myself. But these were all new bottles, unopened. And next to them was a shopping bag from a luxury brand I knew Sarah loved. He had replaced my things with hers.

He had given her my life.

I was the one who was betrayed, humiliated, and assaulted. And now he was demanding that I apologize to my replacement.

The injustice of it all was a physical weight, crushing the air from my lungs.

"Apologize to Sarah," Mark ordered, his voice cold. "Go into the kitchen and make her something to eat. She's been through a lot today."