"Why me? Why don't you take your affair partner's body and offer it to him instead? I'm your wife—not one of those prostitutes you chase!"
She screamed angrily at the handsome young man standing face-to-face with her in the large, expensively furnished bedroom. Her beautiful, delicate face flushed with rage, and her petite body trembled. The cream-colored tight dress clung to her figure, rippling up and down with the furious pounding of her heart.
"You're going to do it—did you hear me? You're going to do it!" he shouted back, his voice as furious as hers.
His words stunned her. Confusion flickered across her soft oval face, and her eyes widened in disbelief.
Seeing her momentarily silenced, he seized the opportunity to plead. "He've forced me to this point—what choice do I have? Do you think I'm proud to offer my wife to another man?"
"Please, Ranee, only you can save our company from bankruptcy. Just accept Mr. Thada's terms: stay with him for three months, and we'll receive an additional fifty million in investment. Once we deliver this batch of products, we'll have enough to clear the debts. This house remains ours, and our son can continue his studies. Do you want Non to return to the life of an ordinary village child—skipping meals, sleeping in a cramped rented room, doing homework in a narrow space? Crowding onto buses with villagers every morning, waiting for my parents' salaries just to eat properly, wearing the same clothes until they're faded and worn out?"
"Ranee, can you really let our son grow up in that environment, living hand-to-mouth like a day laborer? Could you bear it?"
He spoke desperately, dropping to his knees. "Please, Ranee, just this once—I won't ask anything of you ever again. I swear I'll end all contact with Nittaya and never chase another woman. I'll work hard, care for our son, care for you... and we'll be husband and wife again, just like before—like ten years ago when I took care of you. Please help me this one time..."
His voice brimmed with bitterness, stripping away the dignity of a man once respected as both father and husband.
She glared at him, her small frame still trembling uncontrollably. Her soft features twisted with anger and sorrow too deep for words.
"Get out. I don't want to see your face," she said coldly, ending the nearly two-hour quarrel. She couldn't bear to look at Theeradej any longer; if it continued, she might have thrown something at her shameless husband.
He rose slowly, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose. His pale face hardened to match hers.
"Fine. If you can't stand my face, I'll sleep on the living-room sofa tonight."
"But... you're truly the only one who can help us now—for our son, for the company's employees. Just this once, and I'll never ask again, baby." He murmured softly before turning and leaving the bedroom, abandoning her in the chilly, air-conditioned room amid a whirlwind of emotions she couldn't easily dispel.
When silence returned, she walked to the dressing table beside the bed and sank into the expensive velvet chair. She picked up a comb and slowly ran it through her waist-length hair.
Her slender arms moved deliberately. In the mirror, her large, sweet almond-shaped eyes—framed by naturally curled lashes—gazed at her reflection: the gentle oval contour, rounded forehead, elegantly arched brows above a refined nose bridge, small rosebud mouth, flawless fair skin, and delicate cheeks. No one would guess she was thirty-six and a mother.
Everyone who knew her always praised her as an extraordinarily beautiful and charming woman.
"Oh yes."
She let out a harsh, throaty laugh, mocking herself. How ironic—so funny—that she had taken such good care of her beauty and youth, only for Theeradej to keep a prostitute secretary as his mistress and now ask her to become another man's concubine.
"I'm truly pathetic. If I'd known it would end like this, I would never have married you..."
She couldn't understand why it had to be her bearing the humiliation—losing her husband and still being forced to spread her legs for another man just to keep the family from falling apart. Meanwhile, her worthless husband would sneak off to enjoy himself with that shameless whore named Nectar, the woman who had stolen him away.
Why her? She truly didn't understand.
She lifted a hand to her cheek, her cold expression melting into bitterness. Thinking of a marriage that was nothing more than a beautiful shell over ruins, her sweet eyes stared sadly at her reflection in the mirror as memories carried her back ten years.
That day, in the pouring rain, he had knelt before her, desperately begging her not to leave him.
'Ranee, please don't break up with me. I can't live without you. Just give me six more years. I swear I'll have the money for our wedding. The project I'm working on with the American company is nearly finished. Within six years, we'll get the production license. Once the drug hits the market, I'll receive a huge payout—enough for the wedding, a house, a car, our own pharmaceutical research company, and savings for our children's education. Please, just a little more time. I beg you, Ranee.'
He looked up at her, rain streaming down his face. She stood above him, holding an umbrella, gazing down with calm, steady eyes.
'Thada... I'm already twenty-six, and there's still no sign of marriage.'
'If I wait another six years, I'll be thirty-two. Women aren't like men—we don't get better prospects in our thirties. After the prime years pass and after childbirth, our options shrink. Men, on the other hand, only grow more desirable with age, chasing younger women. I can't wait that long.'
Her voice had been colder than the rain itself.
'Ranee, I swear this time—if the project succeeds, I'll have hundreds of millions. We'll have the wedding you deserve. We'll have a daughter, just like we always talked about. You want a girl first; I do too. We'll build our future together...'
He crawled closer, clutching her legs, pleading with everything he had. His face was soaked, eyes red, water tracing paths down his cheeks—she hadn't noticed then whether it was tears or rain.
'Enough, Thada. I've made up my mind. I'm marrying the man my parents chose. Forget me. Focus on your drug project. You'll find someone better than me someday.'
She held firm, offering no opening.
Seeing the last flicker of hope die in him, his heart shattered. Rage flared.
'Is the wedding really that important to you—more important than the love I've given you all these years? Do our ten years together mean nothing?'
'Fine, Ranee. If you're set on marrying that bastard, invite me to the ceremony. I'll watch you dress up for him with all your heart!'
His voice broke with anguish. Then he spun away and dashed into the street—straight into her shocked gaze.
A screech of tires.
A sickening thud.
The next image burned into her memory: his tall, 185-centimeter frame hurled like a rag doll onto the roadside curb. Crimson blood spilled from his body, mingling with the relentless downpour...
She stood frozen in shock, trembling violently. She remembered how terrified she had been—afraid he was dead or dying—so she turned and fled without looking back. In that moment, she cared only for her own escape, selfishly indifferent to whether he lived or died.
After that day, she lost all contact with Thada. She never learned the outcome of the accident: whether he had died, survived unscathed, or been left disabled.
Three months later, she married Theeradej. Yet the image of Thada lying face-down in a pool of blood haunted her for years. The guilt and fear lingered until she gave birth to her son four years into the marriage, when those buried emotions finally began to fade, retreating to a forgotten corner of her mind.
She never imagined that, ten years later, those suppressed memories would resurface—triggered by an unexpected confrontation with him just a month ago.
It happened at the introductory party for the new co-investor in Theeradej's herbal inhaler manufacturing company. There stood Thada, now the powerful CEO of a vast pharmaceutical and chemical empire, with extensive networks and dominant drug distribution companies across the country's stock market.
From the moment their eyes met, she knew exactly what he wanted. Though he presented his proposal elegantly—as a generous joint venture to bail out Theeradej's failing business—his true condition was unmistakable: she must become his mistress.
The cruel irony left her trapped in an impossible dilemma.
"Do I really have to accept your offer?"