Felix's Protection for Her

The glass doors of Patek Philippe's exclusive Fifth Avenue boutique whispered closed behind me as I stepped into the hushed sanctuary of luxury. My heels clicked softly against the marble floor, each step bringing me closer to the perfect gift for Derek's and my five-year anniversary.

"Ms. Hayes, welcome back." The sales director, Monsieur Laurent, glided forward with a practiced smile. "The timepiece you inquired about has arrived."

I returned his smile, ignoring the flutter of anxiety in my stomach at what I was about to spend. "I'd like to see it, please."

He led me to a private viewing room where velvet-lined trays awaited. With white-gloved hands, he revealed the watch—the Patek Philippe Grand Complications that Derek had been coveting for years. The platinum case gleamed under the soft lighting, its celestial blue face capturing the cosmos in miniature.

"Three hundred thousand," I whispered, more to myself than to Laurent. Five years of loving Derek, of believing in us, distilled into this perfect circle of metal and mechanics.

"It's an investment piece, Ms. Hayes," Laurent assured me, misreading my hesitation. "A legacy to pass down generations."

I thought of Derek's face when he would open the box tonight, how his eyes would widen in disbelief before melting into that rare, genuine smile I treasured. The watch represented everything I believed about us—that we were worth investing in, worth sacrificing for.

"I'll take it," I said, sliding my black card across the table.

Three hours later, I was home in our Upper East Side apartment, the watch box nestled in gift wrap on our bed while I prepared for our anniversary dinner. I hummed softly, imagining Derek's reaction, when my phone buzzed with an unfamiliar number.

A text message: *You deserve to know the truth.*

Attached was a video file.

Curiosity overcame caution. I tapped play.

The screen filled with strobing lights, revealing glimpses of a dimly lit room. Bodies moving. Music pulsing. Then the camera steadied on two figures in the corner—unmistakably Derek and Alejandra.

My best friend sat astride my boyfriend's lap, her head thrown back in ecstasy as his hands roamed her body. The friendship bracelet I'd given her for her birthday—three platinum stars representing our years together—glinted on her wrist as she tangled her fingers in Derek's hair.

"I've wanted you for so long," Derek's voice, clear despite the music. "She never has to know."

The phone slipped from my fingers, bouncing on the plush carpet. A high-pitched ringing filled my ears as I sank to my knees. Five years. Five years of supporting him, of defending him to my family, of believing his promises. All while he and Alejandra...

I stumbled to the bathroom, barely making it before emptying my stomach. Cold tile pressed against my forehead as sobs wracked my body. The betrayal cut deeper than I thought possible—not just Derek, but Alejandra. My confidante. The person I'd called crying when Derek and I fought. The friend who'd helped me pick out lingerie for