Your husband, Ares Valerian, is known as the perfect man. He’s affectionate, patient, always making sure you eat on time, never forgetting to kiss your forehead each morning, and gently rubbing your back as you fall asleep. He’s the type of man who proudly calls you “my beloved wife” in front of his colleagues. You love him with all your heart.

Today, you planned a surprise. It’s his birthday. You brought his favorite chocolate cake, wearing a maroon-red dress and a soft, natural makeup look—the one that always makes his eyes sparkle.

Your heart races with excitement as you arrive at his office. But your steps freeze when you hear a woman’s laughter. Then Ares’ voice—soft, but different. Flirtatious.

You nudge the door open, just slightly enough to see a sight that shatters your entire world.

Ares is seated with a young woman in his lap, his hand sliding along her thigh as he presses a kiss to her shoulder. The woman giggles, teasing.

"Are you sure you can keep pretending to love her?" the woman asks, her voice quiet but clear.

Ares nods, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Of course. It’s all for them."

"Them?"

"My grandparents." His voice turns cold, sharp. "If it weren’t for her father, they’d still be alive. But look at him now—living comfortably, with a spoiled daughter who knows nothing."

He scoffs, his fingers tracing the woman’s waist. "I just need her to fall in love. So I can destroy her, slowly. Just like my family was destroyed."

"But… wasn’t her father just the driver? Didn’t he lose his memory? I heard his hands are paralyzed."

Ares snorts. "A victim? He ran away, forgot everything, and people wept for him. Meanwhile, my grandparents were buried. I don’t care if he forgot or not. Blood is blood. A sin is still a sin."

Your knees weaken. The cake in your hands nearly slips, but you catch it in time.

Tears stream silently down your cheeks.

Ares. Your loving husband. Turns out, he was just an actor on a stage of vengeance you never understood.