The cold water rushed over the white porcelain plate. Elena’s tears fell just as fast.
“It’s a lie! You degrade me every day!” she sobbed, her voice breaking perfectly on the last syllable.
To her right, Victoria Hawthorne took a slow sip from her crystal glass, a cruel, triumphant smirk playing on her lips. She thought she had won. She thought the penniless maid was finally breaking.
But Victoria didn’t hear the heavy footsteps approaching. Elena did.
Arthur Hawthorne stepped into the kitchen. Without hesitating, he walked straight past his billionaire wife and placed a warm, protective hand on Elena’s trembling shoulder.
Victoria’s smirk instantly evaporated into pure, breathless shock.
Arthur’s gaze locked onto his wife, his voice absolute ice. “Pack your bags and get out. My son will be raised by a decent woman.”
Victoria froze. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she stared at him in horrified silence. Ten minutes later, the heavy oak doors slammed shut. Her black car sped down the driveway, off the estate.
The house fell dead silent.
Elena stopped crying. Instantly.
She calmly turned off the faucet and dried her hands. Arthur exhaled, loosening his tie with a greedy smile. He poured two glasses of scotch, handing her one. “She actually bought it. Now her trust fund is mine, and she looks like the unstable one who abandoned her family.”
“She didn’t suspect a thing,” Elena purred, clinking her glass against his.
Arthur took a deep gulp. He smiled.
Then he gasped.
His eyes bulged as the glass shattered on the marble floor. He clawed at his throat, collapsing violently against the island before hitting the ground, paralyzed.
Elena stepped gracefully over his twitching body. She pulled out her phone and sent a single text message.
*He drank it. The alibi worked. Come back inside.*
The front gates clicked open. Victoria’s black car quietly rolled back up the driveway.
Elena smiled. Men like Arthur always thought they were the masterminds. They never realized when the women they abused decided to team up.