I’m Sah, and this is the story of how my husband thought he could outsmart me.
It started with whispers in the dark, bank transactions I never made, and a name—Ilia Maro—that I had never heard before. Dean, my husband, wasn’t just planning to leave me. He was planning to take everything.
But he underestimated me.
He thought I would crumble. Instead, I moved first.
I protected what was mine. And one week later, his entire plan backfired.
The worst part wasn’t just the betrayal.
It was how long he had been planning it, how many lies he had told, and the lengths he was willing to go to in order to destroy me.
I woke up to an empty bed.
The cold sheets beside me told me Dean had been gone for a while. In our Chicago high-rise, the city usually hummed faintly through the windows, but that night everything felt too still. At first, I thought maybe he had gone to the bathroom or grabbed a glass of water.
But as I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I caught the faint sound of his voice—low, hushed, careful.
The hallway light was off, but a sliver of moonlight streamed through the window, casting shadows across the hardwood floor.
My stomach twisted as I followed the sound.
“…just a little longer.
She doesn’t suspect anything yet.”
I stopped mid-step. My breath hitched.
Dean’s voice was smooth, reassuring, like he was calming someone down. My heart pounded against my ribs.
Who was he talking to?
I stood there, straining to hear more, but the words that followed were muffled, his tone dropping to barely above a whisper.
My fingers curled into fists. This wasn’t some late-night work call. Dean never whispered on work calls.
He never even cared if I overheard his conversations before.
My mind raced through possibilities, each one worse than the last.
After a few seconds, I heard his footsteps approaching.
I barely had time to dart back to the bedroom before he rounded the corner. My pulse hammered as I slid under the covers, forcing myself to lie still, faking sleep.
A moment later, I felt the bed dip.
His weight shifted beside me, but I kept my breathing steady. A few minutes passed, and then he exhaled slowly, relaxing like nothing had happened.
I turned over, blinking up at him.
“Where were you?”
My voice came out soft, groggy, like I had just woken up.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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