Wife Rejected for Mistress

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed midnight as I paced the corridor outside Ridge's study. Something felt wrong. Ridge had been acting strangely all evening, claiming he needed to work late again. I'd brought him tea twice already, and both times he'd barely acknowledged me, his eyes darting nervously to his phone whenever it buzzed.

I hesitated outside the heavy oak door, my hand hovering over the doorknob. Perhaps I should leave him alone. After all, he'd made it clear countless times that my presence was an inconvenience rather than a comfort.

But something drove me forward tonight—an intuition I couldn't shake.

I pressed my ear against the door, hearing nothing but silence at first. Then came a soft laugh—Amira's laugh—followed by the gentle rustle of fabric.

"I thought Diana would never leave," Amira whispered, her voice carrying through the crack under the door.

"She never suspects anything," Ridge replied, his tone softer than I'd heard him speak to me in years. "She's too busy trying to please me to notice what's happening right in front of her."

My heart hammered against my ribs as I pushed the door open just enough to see inside. The sight before me froze my blood.

Ridge stood with his arms wrapped around Amira, her body pressed against his. His lips brushed her forehead tenderly—a gesture he'd never once offered me in our ten years together.

"Diana means nothing to you, she never has," Amira murmured, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

"You know you're the only woman I've ever truly loved," Ridge responded, his voice thick with emotion.

I stumbled backward, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle a gasp. The world tilted beneath my feet as ten years of devotion crumbled into dust.

* * *

Morning light streamed through the breakfast room windows, casting long shadows across the polished table where Ridge sat reading the newspaper. I entered silently, my eyes burning from a sleepless night spent replaying what I'd witnessed.

"I saw you," I said quietly, my voice steadier than I expected. "With Amira. Last night."

Ridge's eyes flicked up from his paper, cold and unreadable. "What exactly do you think you saw, Diana?"

"I saw you embracing her in your study. I heard what you said."

He folded his newspaper deliberately, setting it aside with practiced calm. "You're imagining things again. Amira stopped by to discuss some family business, and I was comforting her about a personal matter."

Before I could respond, the door swung open and Amira glided in, her eyes red-rimmed and glistening with tears that looked remarkably fresh.

"Ridge," she whimpered, "I don't know what to do. Diana's accusing us of—" She broke off with a delicate sob.

I stared at her performance with growing horror. "Stop lying! I know what I saw!"

Grandfather Gardner appeared in the doorway, his weathered face creased with concern as he took in the scene before him.

"What's going on here?" he demanded, his gaze moving from