Chapter 5 - The Wedding Anniversary
Our anniversary was an exercise in pure, agonizing theater. Daniel insisted on a high-profile dinner at a restaurant where his mother and her social circle could witness his "triumphant" marriage. He wanted the world to see the trophy wife who had finally been broken into shape.
I wore a high-collared silk dress that hid the fading yellowing on my neck and the faint traces of bruising on my ribs. I looked impeccable—a porcelain doll.
"She’s been a different woman since we had that talk," Daniel bragged to a group of his associates over martinis. He leaned in, his arm draped possessively around my shoulders, his fingers digging slightly into my collarbone. "Sometimes, a firm hand is all it takes to align priorities."
The men laughed, a chorus of sycophants. Vivian sat across from me, her eyes sharp, looking for any crack in my composure.
"She’s certainly looking more radiant," Vivian added, her tone laced with faux-sweetness. "Submission suits you, Sarah. It takes the frantic edge off your eyes."
I smiled. It was the same smile from the bathroom mirror—empty, beautiful, and cold. "I’ve realized that life is much simpler when you stop fighting the inevitable, Vivian."
As the night wore on, Daniel grew increasingly reckless. Emboldened by the wine and the praise of his peers, he began discussing the "liquidation" of the apartment, speaking as if it were already a done deal. He was broadcasting his intent, providing the exact testimony I needed to prove premeditated financial coercion.
May you like
I excused myself to the powder room. I took out my phone and checked the encrypted feed. Lena had messaged: Everything is ready. The trap is baited. Are you safe?
I looked in the mirror. My face was a mask of perfect makeup. The bruise beneath my eye was almost hidden. I wasn't just surviving; I was orchestrating. I stepped back out into the dining room, ready to close the deal.
