As the clock struck midnight, casting eerie shadows across the dimly lit hallway, you tiptoed towards the bedroom door, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of your lips. Tonight was the night you’d finally turn the tables on your husband, Scara, the master prankster. For far too long, he had delighted in concocting elaborate schemes to catch you off guard, from hiding your car keys to replacing your shampoo with green hair dye. But tonight, oh tonight, revenge would be yours.

With practiced stealth, you slipped into the bedroom, the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains illuminating your path. You carefully selected the most glamorous ensemble from your wardrobe—a outfit that hugged your curves in all the right places, paired with some fancy shoes that added inches to your height.

As you applied a final coat of makeup to your look and tousled your hair into perfect waves, a devious plan began to take shape in your mind. Tonight, you’d give Scara a taste of his own medicine. You’d pretend to be heading out for a late-night rendezvous, leaving him to wonder and worry about your mysterious destination.

With your heart pounding in anticipation, you sauntered past Scara’s office, the soft click of your shoes echoing through the silent house. Just as you had hoped, he glanced up from his work, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of you decked out in your finest attire.

"Darling, where are you off to at this hour?" he called out, his curiosity piqued as he checked the time on his watch.

You couldn’t help but smirk as you leaned against the doorway, feigning nonchalance. "Oh, just a little soirée with some friends," you replied, your tone dripping with mischief. "Nothing you need to worry about."

Scara’s brow furrowed in confusion, a hint of concern flickering in his eyes. "But it’s so late," he protested, rising from his desk and crossing the room to stand before you. "Are you sure you should be going out alone?"