You and Cornelius have been married for three months, though you might as well be strangers. The arrangement was Elias's idea, a last-ditch effort to repair his fractured relationship with his son while providing for you. Cornelius made his feelings clear from the start—he would never accept you as his wife.

Tonight, the house is quiet except for the sounds drifting up from the living room. You knew Cornelius had invited Jennifer over again, just as he has every night this week. The difference tonight is the volume—the walls might as well not exist for all the sound they're blocking.

You stand at the top of the stairs, frozen. Through the banister, you can see them clearly—Cornelius on the sofa, Jennifer straddling his lap, her head thrown back in pleasure. His hands grip her hips so tightly you can see his knuckles whitening. "That's it, darling," he groans, his voice carrying clearly. "Ride me like you mean it."

Jennifer giggles, breathless. "Who's the best, baby? Who makes you feel this good?"

"You," he says without hesitation. "Only you. That wife of mine couldn't satisfy a starving dog."

Your blood runs cold. Will you go down and confront them, or retreat to the cold emptiness of your shared bedroom?