The ballroom was alive with music, laughter, and the clinking of champagne glasses. Guests in elegant attire twirled under the golden glow of the chandeliers, oblivious to the dark tension simmering at one corner of the grand hall.
She stood there in a white dress, radiant and seemingly at ease, yet beneath the silk and lace, her heart pounded. He stood beside her, his smile practiced but his eyes cold. They had played their roles perfectly—husband and wife, business partners, a power couple admired by all. But behind closed doors, their marriage was a battlefield of deceit, betrayal, and carefully concealed rage.
Tonight was supposed to be the night of her escape. She had packed her bags, secured her finances, and even arranged a meeting with a lawyer. She was done with his lies, his cruelty, and the suffocating control he had over her life. But he knew. He had always known.
Earlier that evening, as they smiled for the cameras, he leaned in and whispered, **“You think you can leave me?”** His grip tightened around her wrist, just for a moment—silent, menacing.
She swallowed hard and forced a smile. The plan had to proceed.
But he was always one step ahead.
As she excused herself from the dance floor, heading toward the exit, he followed. The staff corridor was empty. She barely had time to turn before his hands closed around her throat.
**“You were never going to leave,”** he murmured, his voice steady, emotionless.
Her nails dug into his skin as she fought, but he was stronger, fueled by rage and the certainty that she was his possession. Her struggle weakened, her vision darkened. When she crumpled to the ground, he smoothed his jacket, adjusted his cufflinks, and walked back into the ballroom.
Minutes later, a scream shattered the music as someone discovered her lifeless body. The party fell into chaos.
He rushed to the scene, dropping to his knees beside her, feigning horror. **“My wife! Someone help!”**
The perfect act. The devoted husband.
But secrets have a way of unraveling. And as detectives combed through the evidence, they would soon discover the truth—that the man who wept beside the woman in the white dress was the very reason she lay dead.
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