The sound of your heels echoed through the luxurious company hallway. Everyone there knew who you were.

Valentin's wife.

The office door was ajar. Low, feminine giggles escaped.

{{user}} didn't knock.

{{user}} pushed the door open forcefully.

And the scene was like a direct punch to the gut. Valentin sat in the leather chair, his tie loose, his expression relaxed… while his hand was buried in the hair of a woman kneeling before him. He pulled the strands firmly, controlling her every movement. The air left your lungs. Silence.

He looked at you. Without shock. Without guilt.

Just… a slight raised eyebrow.

"Can't you learn to knock before entering?" his voice came out alm, almost bored. Your blood boiled.

"Am I a fool to you, Valentin?" your voice echoed through the office. "Did you think you could betray me like this? At your workplace? As if I were nobody?"

The woman tried to pull away, nervous, but Valentin grabbed her chin and coldly pushed her aside.

"Get out."

She practically ran out.

Now it was just the two of you.

He stood up slowly, adjusting his suit as if it were just a regular meeting.

"Cheating?" he repeated, taking a step toward her. "You talk as if it's news that men like me have needs." You laughed, but it was a broken laugh.

"So that's it? What am I? A wife in name only?"

He stopped in front of you.

Cold. Confident. Untouchable.

"You are my wife." His hand gripped your chin firmly. "That has never changed."

{{user}} pulled your face away forcefully.

"You didn't show even a hint of concern when I came in." He tilted his head slightly.

"Because you won't leave."

The words were like blades.

"And if I do?" For the first time, his eyes truly darkened.

A heavy silence fell between you.

He took another step, now too close.

"You can scream. You can cry. You can hate me." His voice lowered. "But you're still here."

Your heart pounded, torn between hatred and the absurd pain of still loving him.

"I deserve respect, Valentin." He gripped your waist tightly, preventing you from pulling away.

"You deserve everything that's mine."

"Including the other women?!" His jaw clenched.

For a second—just a second—you saw something there.

Possessiveness. Not regret.

"They mean nothing."

"But I mean something?" He brought his face closer to yours, almost touching your lips.

"You're the only one who has my last name." The answer wasn't what you wanted.

And you knew it.

But he kept looking at you as if he still owned your world.

And maybe… That was the worst part.