ALEX
Upon arrival at the company, I stepped into the boardroom, which felt akin to taking command of a firing squad. My parents, grandparents, and a gaggle of uncles nearly annihilated my dear cousin due to the lies he spun about me seven years ago. This I owe to my wife, whom I've yearned for since last night, yet I honor her wish to rest. My cousin spent all morning accepting gifts and rebukes from the whole family while I reveled in satisfaction. In the end, they demoted him, and now he's just another salaried employee, stripped of the luxurious life he's grown so accustomed to. Serves him right. After the meeting wrapped up, lunchtime arrived, so I quickly ate in the cafeteria before returning to my work. I hadn't seen today's newspapers, but by chance, I spotted one on the desk and picked it up.
What I couldn't believe was Leila's doing: a childhood photo of her with that same intense gaze she has always had, and right beside it, Mr. Villareal's picture, the spitting image of herself. That poor man must be living under so much pressure. If he has a heart condition, he won't last the year Leila asked of me—if he has one, he might not even make it past six months.
I continued my work into the afternoon when I received an email alert about a withdrawal from my account. It seemed odd as I hadn't authorized anything—unless it was Leila. And surely, it was her; she'd made a transfer. She's free to do as she pleases with my money, but she's just given me an excuse not to stick to our agreement about letting her rest here in New York. I grabbed my things and drove home, but upon arrival, I found no sign of her in her study or the living room, so I assumed she was in the bedroom. I couldn't resist joining her; her eyes were closed but upon waking, she accused me of being a pervert. What she doesn't realize is that it's her fault I'm like this now. With any other woman, I could control myself, but with my wife, I lose all restraint and crave only to savor her body. That night I possessed her until exhaustion, in the most possessive way.
The next morning, we woke up nearly at noon, still clasped together, tangled in the sheets.
"I think I'll consider divorce," Leila expressed.
"I would never grant it to you," I replied, holding her tighter.
"You've ruined all my plans for today," she complained.
"And what new revelation were you planning to unleash on the Villareals today?" I inquired.
"Do you even know who they are?" Leila challenged.
"He's your father," I stated plainly.
"No, I never saw that man as a father," she retorted defensively.
"Tell me everything they did to you at that boarding school, why he sent you there while your brother stayed by his side," I requested, and she seemed to consider it, her expression darkening.
"From the day I was born, I was condemned, doomed to a life of confinement within the walls of the servant's quarters in his mansion—never playing in the sun, never visiting a park, invisible to the world. I learned to hate my own reflection from a young age, despising my image in the mirror due to him. I lost my mother because of him, and my brother betrayed me because of him. I cried many times over him, in that house and at the boarding school. He's responsible for everything," Leila declared with palpable loathing.
"I know your mother died from a botched abortion. There's even a grave beside hers with your name. Why?" I prodded, suspecting the answer but eager for her to purge her pain.
"That man ordered her to get an abortion; he didn't want the baby. Despite his wealth, he couldn't bear the scandal and sent her to a notorious clinic to save face. I begged her not to go, to flee from his grip, insisting he didn't love her—yet she didn't listen. Her death lies squarely on his hands," Leila articulated coldly, staring into the void, the bitterness seething in her eyes.
"And your brother?" I truly wanted to grasp the entirety.
"He's no longer my brother. After our mother's death, he swore we'd avenge her together, but he betrayed me instead. Before I approached you, I reached out to him, and he sold me out. His betrayal landed me in 'the hole' for a week, a dingy place without food or water," Leila explained, and I looked on in shock.
"What's 'the hole'?" I asked.
"In the boarding school's basement lies a vile room swarming with rats and cockroaches. At Mr. Villareal's behest, I was punished and left there countless times. Initially, I wept, but then I realized those vermin were nobler than most. Surviving that punishment made concentrating in class difficult, and the teachers would discipline me by whacking my hands with a wooden board. It was excruciating at first, but I adapted," said Leila, while I clenched my fists—such a man deserves the worst fate imaginable.
"Let me join your quest for vengeance," I offered.
"No, I wish to execute my plan alone. I crave the satisfaction of seeing them in that room with roaches and rats. If I need help, I'll reach out. For now, I just need time and to track down some people," Leila answered.
"Who are you searching for? My contacts can locate anyone," I was eager to assist her.
"I'm looking for Arthur Villareal's father's mistress. Years ago, she vanished with her kids after he refused to acknowledge them. Under his relentless pressure, they had no choice but to vanish. That was before I was born, so finding them may prove difficult," Leila mused.
"Give me whatever information you have, and I'll make sure they're found. You don't have to worry about a thing," I reassured her, drawing her back into my arms as she had distanced herself while speaking.
"Fine, but I'm quite famished now," Leila stated.
"You're always hungry," I remarked, but her next words stopped me cold.
"After two years of stale bread and oatmeal, I constantly crave delicious food," Leila confided.
"Are you joking?" I asked, incredulously.
"No. After being betrayed by my brother, Mr. Villareal cut my funds and restricted me to just that. If it hadn't been for Katya, sneaking me chocolates and treats, my existence would've been even more miserable," Leila recounted—her words prompted me to embrace her.
"I'll go fix you something delightful; take a warm shower," I kissed her and descended, wrapped in a robe.
I seethed at the thought of what that man did to his own daughter simply for bearing his likeness—most fathers would be proud, but he tormented and condemned her. I vowed to make him pay dearly, though Leila needn't know. She wishes to handle everything herself, but I cannot simply watch idly by. I hope she won't resent my interference.
When the meal was ready, Leila came down, already dressed, and devoured everything. Her ravenous eating habits had always been excessive, yet I never imagined it was because she'd been starved for two years. Watching her eat intensified my hatred for that man, and I yearned for the day he'd grovel at my wife's feet, begging for mercy.
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