Sarah Cadwell is a timid and introverted woman who grew up in a household filled with abuse and cruelty. Her parents, most especially her father, were harsh and violent towards her, leaving her with deep emotional scars that made it difficult for her to trust and communicate with men. The memory of his heavy hands and slurred rants still linger in her memories, it was these experiences that shaped her quiet demeanor and kept her voice small, even as a young girl. Her mother, though less physical, offered only cold uninvolvement in Sarah's ordeals which added to Sarah's isolation. Despite this difficult upbringing, Sarah's life took a positive turn when her parents passed away in a car crash when she was twelve.
Moving to State R to live with her loving grandmother, Mrs. Ellis Grayson, brought her the safety and love she'd been denied for so long. The scent of lilacs from her granny's garden, the gentle hugs that restored her broken spirit—these became her sanctuary.
Under her grandmother's care, Sarah finally began to heal. It was Mrs. Ellis who arranged for her to meet David Cadwell, the son of her close friend, a kind and affectionate man who treated Sarah with the utmost respect and care. Back then, David was different—lean and earnest, his cold gray eyes softened by ambition as he struggled to launch Cadwell Enterprises. His gentle nature and unwavering love slowly helped Sarah overcome her fear of men, allowing her to open up and trust again. They married when his company was still a fledgling dream, and his support became her strength, helping her build what she thought was a happy and fulfilling life despite her struggles and insecurities.
Now, that hope lies in tattered pieces. Sitting on the edge of her bed in the Cadwell Mansion, Sarah clutched the latest report from James, the private investigator. Her auburn hair fell in disheveled waves over her shoulders, framing her olive-toned face streaked with faint freckles, her hazel eyes clouded with a mix of fear and resolve. The document detailed David's extra lavish life styles and his mistresses' lavish lifestyles, including the beachside apartment and hotel rendezvous that stretched back years. The weight of his betrayal pressed down on her, a timid soul now forced to face the man she'd once believed in.
After days of gathering evidence with Rachel Donovan—Sarah and her lawyer friend felt they had enough to bring it all down. The plan had been born in Rachel's office, a strategic move to catch David red-handed. "We've got the embezzlement, the $200 million, the mistresses," Rachel had said, her dark ponytail swinging as she paced. "But we also need to catch him red-handed with Lisa. Tell David you're visiting your sick granny. Leave, then unexpectedly show up at the house without informing David— we can have James follow him. When he meets Lisa, you show up, act shocked. It'll give us leverage."
Sarah nodded, her full lips quivering. The idea terrified her, her introversion clashing with the need for action. [I can pretend], she thought, clinging to the plan like a lifeline.
That evening, she approached David in the living room as planned, her emerald-green dress clinging to her frame, her posture deliberately small to mask her unrest. "David," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "Granny's not feeling well. I think I'll visit her tomorrow."
David who was lounging in an armchair, his taut frame slouched, glanced up from his phone. His dark blond hair was neatly combed back, his nose twitching as he frowned.
"Fine," he muttered, his tone dismissive. "Don't be long. I've got work." His cold gray eyes flicked back to the screen, unaware of the storm brewing.
The next morning, Sarah set off for Elm Street, her heart was anxious, as she hoped everything would go as planned so she could move on to the next step. She met James outside Mrs. Ellis's home, instructing him to tail David. "I want you to follow my husband and inform us if he brings any woman to the house or hotel," she said, her voice trembling. James nodded, slipping into his car. At her granny's, the familiar scent of lilacs calmed her nerves as Mrs. Ellis hugged her. Oblivious to the storm brewing in her granddaughter's life.
Hours later, James called. "He's at the Cadwell Mansion with Lisa Hargrove." Sarah's stomach dropped, but still, she drove back, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.
As she approached the Cadwell Mansion, she took a deep breath and readied herself, stepping inside quietly. The sound of laughter—Lisa's smooth, teasing voice—guided her to the guest bedroom. She pushed the door open, she let out a Startled gasp.
On their matrimonial bed, were David and Lisa Hargrove, tangled in intimacy. Lisa, with her coy smile and auburn hair, froze, her eyes widening. Which prompted David to look behind him, surprised at Sarah's presence, David scrambled to his feet, his suit jacket discarded, his face paling. "Sarah!" he exclaimed, his voice a mixture of shock and pleading. "This—it's not what you think. I can explain—"
Sarah's hazel eyes filled with tears, real and uncontrollable tears, as the betrayal crashed over her afresh. The man who'd helped her heal, the friend she'd confided in, both gone in an instant. "Explain?, what explanation?" she choked out, her voice breaking. "You've been lying to me—decieving me—while I trusted you!" Her timid nature overshadowed under the weight of her sadness, her body shaking as sobs wrecked her. The memories of her father's violence, her mother's neglect, merged with this fresh wound, overwhelming her.
David stepped forward, his hands raised in an attempt to placate her. "Sarah, please, let's talk. I'll stop—I swear," he begged, but his tone lacking the needed conviction, his gray eyes darting toward Lisa as if seeking an escape. His plea only deepened her pain, the man she'd loved reduced to this.
But Sarah couldn't bear it. "No," she whispered, turning away. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she fled the room, her footsteps echoing through the Cadwell Mansion. She stumbled to her car, the cold night air biting at her skin, and drove back to Elm Street, her heart in pieces. The plan had worked—James had recorded the encounter, evidence for Rachel—but the cost was her shattered heart, her safe haven destroyed.
At Mrs. Ellis's, she collapsed into her grandmother's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. "Its David he's been cheating on me with Lisa," she cried, her voice vulnerable. Mrs. Ellis felt for her, she held her tight, her own eyes misty. "You're not alone, Sarah," she murmured. "We'll get through this."
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Back at the Cadwell Mansion, David Cadwell paced the guest bedroom, his taut body frame casting long shadows across the lavish hardwood floor. The air still carried the faint scent of Sarah's perfume, a reminder of the chaos that had just unfolded. His dark blond hair, now disheveled, clung to his sweaty forehead, strands of his hair, sticking haphazardly as he ran a trembling hand through it. His cold gray eyes, that was usually sharp with arrogance, flickered with a rare trace of worry, his nose twitching as he exhaled a shaky breath. He recalled the sound of Sarah's footsteps fading into the night, each steps echoed in his mind, her sobs a haunting burden that stirred an unfamiliar unease in his chest. For a moment, his heartbeat thundered, a rapid drumbeat against his ribcage, threatening to betray the calm facade he so carefully maintained.
But then he paused, a sly smirk curled his thin lips, and his shoulders relaxed as a calculated thought settled over him like a warm blanket. [Sarah is soft-hearted], he reminded himself, his mind replaying years of her quiet forgiveness,
He remembers his frequent instances of staying out until late in the night or into the early morning hours in the past, when asked he would give her a simple excuse and apologise and Sarah would easily forgive him while quietly accepting his late-night activities even if it makes her uncomfortable or anxious.
[She'll crumble if I show even a hint of sincerity—even if it's fake.] The realization steadied him, his pulse slowing to a deliberate rhythm as he regained control. He drew in a deep, deliberate breath, the air whistling through his nostrils as his chest expanded, then released it in a long, relieved sigh. His posture straightened and the tension in his broad shoulders melted away, and he adjusted his rumpled suit jacket with a casual flick of his wrist, as if brushing off the incident entirely.
The mansion's grandeur—its crystal chandeliers and marble accents—seemed to bolster his confidence, a throne room for the king he believed himself to be.
Before he could fully revel in his self-assuredness, a pair of arms snaked around his waist from behind. Lisa Hargrove pressed herself against him, her auburn hair brushing his neck as she hugged him tightly. She was all dressed up, her red lace outfit clinging to her curves, highlighting her curves and slender waist.
Her sly smile gleamed in the dim light as she purred, "It's good that she now knows, at least now we no longer have to hide. I love you so much, I don't like the thought of going home to her every day. I want to sleep and wake up with you by my side, babe. So tell me, are you going to divorce her?" Her voice, smooth and teasing, carried an edge of expectation, her hands sliding up his chest as she leaned into him.
David turned to face her, his smirk widening into a calculated smile. He cupped her face in his hands, his touch deceptively tender, his thumbs tracing her cheekbones as if she were a cherished prize. But beneath the facade, his mind churned with darker intentions. He had no intention of marrying this backstabber—her boldness and brashness had drawn him in, a stark opposite to Sarah's quiet character, but he saw her as a fleeting thrill, not a lifelong partner. Still, he wasn't about to reveal that.
"Yes, you're right," he lied, his voice smooth as silk, the words slipping through his teeth like the devil's own deception. "As soon as you leave, I'll call my lawyer right away and let him handle the necessary."
Lisa's face lit up, elated by his promise. She jumped into his arms, planting a fervent kiss on his lips, which he reciprocated with practiced ease. His hands roamed down her back, grabbing and squeezing her ass with a possessive grip, their kiss deepening as desire momentarily clouded his deceit. They continued, a tangle of lips and hands, until they reached the front door of the Cadwell Mansion. Only then did they separate, Picking up her Jacket, Lisa's laughter trailing behind her as she stepped into the night, her heels clicking against the stone path.
The moment the door closed, David's expression shifted. The warmth vanished from his eyes, replaced by a cold, calculating glint. He turned the lock with a decisive click, his movements brisk as he pulled out his phone. His fingers hovered over the screen before dialing Sarah's number, a plan forming in his mind to salvage his image. He rang her once, twice, but silence still remained on the other end gnawing at his nerves. By the sixth call, his patience frayed, his thumb pressing harder with each attempt. Finally, the line connected, and before he could utter a word, Sarah's voice cut through, raw and resolute. "I want a divorce."
The words hit him like a physical blow, it was as if someone dropped a brick on his head, his smirk faltering as his hand tightened around the phone. The mansion's silence seemed to mock him now, the chandeliers casting harsh reflections on his paling face. His heartbeat, so recently calmed, surged again, but this time in disbelief [She's serious], he realized, the softness he'd banked on slipping through his fingers like sand. The lie he had prepared for Sarah crumbled, leaving him exposed, and for the first time, a flicker of genuine concern—perhaps even fear—crossed his mind.