Kimberly’s POV
Katie stumbled when her colleague yanked her arm, losing her balance and crashing to the floor. The teacup shattered in her hand, slicing a deep gash across her palm. Blood quickly spread across the marble tiles.
Through the conference room’s glass wall, Cedric saw the scene unfold. Everyone froze as he tossed his documents aside and rushed out, gathering Katie into his arms with practiced ease.
“Who the hell did this to her?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the sudden silence.
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The well–meaning colleague retreated, her face ashen.
“I did,” I said with a cold smile. “And she had it coming.”
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Katie glared at me through mascara–streaked tears. “Yes, I had it coming!” she cried with theatrical flair. “That’s what I get for falling for someone I shouldn’t have, for being called the other woman!”
“But Cedric,” she continued, clutching his crisp shirt, “as long as you love me too, I’m staying right by your side. No one’s going to come between us.”
Her vulnerability seemed perfectly calibrated–even her ridiculous declaration somehow came across as brave rather than desperate.
Cedric’s face softened at her performance, his thumb gently wiping away her tears. “Easy now, you’re a mess,” he murmured, the tenderness in his
voice unmistakable.
The realization struck me like a physical blow. He genuinely cared for her.
I lowered my gaze, suddenly bone–tired. “I need fifty thousand for my birthday,” I said flatly to Cedric, not bothering with pleasantries.
The absurdity wasn’t lost on me–husband and wife without even each other’s phone numbers. I never contacted him except when I needed money.
Our pre–marriage agreement had been brutally simple: he wanted my body, I wanted financial security.
Cedric always resented what he called my “gold–digging nature.”
Yet until now, whenever I asked, regardless of the amount, he’d transfer it without question–always more than requested.
This time, his eyes glittered with something new as his lips curved into a cold smile. “Money? No problem.”
“But first, Kimberley,” he continued, savoring each word, “I need you to swallow that pride and apologize to Katie.”
My stomach clenched. Cedric was trying to purchase my dignity–buying an apology for his mistress with the money I needed to ease my final months.
For the first time, he was using his wealth not just to control me, but to humiliate me for another woman’s satisfaction.
I felt a wave of nausea that had nothing to do with my illness. My nails dug crescents into my palms as I forced a smile.
Fighting the sudden spike of pain radiating through my chest, I turned and walked toward the elevator without another word.
I didn’t want his blood money anymore.
As the doors closed between us, a question formed in my mind: What would your face show, Cedric, if you knew this money could have bought me precious time? If you discovered how much agony I endured because of your little power play?
Would you feel anything at all?
