Chapter 2

-Alison-

I felt the bed dip as my panting echoed in my ears. My body tensed, craving more, desperate to reach climax, but the shift in weight alerted me that something was amiss. Opening my eyes, I found Jared hovering over me, his dark smile sending shivers down my spine.

"Jared..." I gasped, reaching out for him, but he seized my hand and pressed it firmly above my head. With his other, he encircled my throat.

"Not my title, my sweet slut," he taunted, leaning closer until his lips ghosted over mine. "Who's your Master?"

"Oh, fuck..."

"Who is it, slave?" he growled, his grip tightening around my throat, the sensation only heightening my arousal, causing me to writhe beneath him.

He pulled back the covers, exposing my naked body, and I spread my legs in an obvious invitation, but he remained still, his grip on my wrist becoming more painful.

"Y-You," I whimpered.

"That's better."

He pressed my other hand over my head, instructing me to keep them there as he moved lower down my body. His lips grazed my skin, and I let out a little scream as he sank his teeth into my hip.

"Quiet now, you don't want your husband to hear," he teased, causing me to bite my lower lip.

Slipping between my legs, his tongue traced over my pussy, eliciting another cry from me as I ground against his face.

"Such a disobedient little slut," he mocked, his voice laced with amusement. "Didn't I just tell you to be quiet?"

"Y-Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Master," I replied.

"Were you quiet?"

I shook my head, glancing down my body to see Jared smiling before he threw my legs over his shoulders and delved back in, licking me again. I strained to keep silent as his tongue glided over my sensitive skin and his lips wrapped around my clit, sucking. I couldn't remain still. I unraveled, pressing against him as I placed a hand over my mouth. My body shattered in the most exquisite explosion, and I was consumed by my desire for Jared. I held nothing back. I knew whose slut I was, and I didn't want to be anyone else's. I surrendered, and it felt incredibly liberating to finally do so.

Jared propelled me through the delicious release with such intensity that I squirmed away from him, but he promptly pulled me back, flashing a wicked smile before settling back on his knees and beginning to unbutton his pants. My mouth watered at the thought of tasting him.

"Fuck, I can just see what goes on behind those dangerous eyes," he whispered, sounding as breathless as I felt. "Want to suck your Master's cock?"

I nodded eagerly, craving it, yearning for it. I'd thank him afterward. Thank him for embodying everything he was, for ruining me for everyone else. He was my Master, and I was in...

A sharp ringing sliced through the delightful fantasy, the vibrator's low buzzing still coaxing me toward another orgasm. But the phone's insistent ringing shattered the moment, and I glanced toward the table to see it flashing.

With a sigh, I switched off the toy before reaching for my phone with my free hand. My mother's name lit up the screen. She was the last person I wanted to talk to right now, or at any moment, really. I couldn't think of anyone I wanted to engage with at this particular juncture.

Summoning a fake smile, I answered the call and pressed the phone to my ear. "Mother," I greeted, injecting as much false cheerfulness as I could muster.

"Alison, good. I sent you a message. Did you not see it?"she asked.

I had seen it, received it yesterday, but I had intentionally chosen not to respond. Predictably, my mother expected an immediate reply from me.

"I have been busy," I lied.

"Hopefully busy mending your issues with your husband,"she retorted.

I groaned, tossing the covers aside and letting the vibrator rest on the bed as I sat up. "Mom, it's not me who cheated repeatedly on him," I reminded her.

"Perhaps not, but we need to put those rumors to rest. How did anyone even get those photos?"my mother pressed.

"It's photoshopped," I whispered.

"Alison, that lie may work on everybody else, but I think you're forgetting who you are talking to."

I sighed. Oh, I knew full well who I was talking to, and while I should probably have been spending all my time since returning to my life almost two weeks ago trying to do damage control, I had done none of it. With a sweet smile and my dangerous eyes, as Jared called them, I could easily manipulate things in my favor.

However, after resuming my old life, I realized how little I wanted to fight for it. Why should I put so much on the line for Warren? He was the one who couldn't keep his mediocre dick in his pants. It wasn't me who went out and got strange women pregnant or made them obsessed with him because he promised he would leave me for them. Why did I have to pay the price? Why was I always the one covering for him? No, Warren could find his own way out of this mess. I was done doing it for him. However, my mother did not agree.

"No, I remember," I said.

"Alison, we need to put those rumors to rest. Go out on a date with Warren, come to the party, and show up HAPPY!"

"Happy?" I whispered, echoing the word because it sounded so foreign. Did I even know what happiness meant? Gosh, what has Jared done to me? I thought as I rubbed my eyes tiredly.

"Yes, happy. This party is important. A lot of your father's friends and business partners are coming. You need to be prepared. I can't have people gossiping about you and your husband instead of focusing on your father's company celebrating 30 years on the market,"my mother reiterated sternly.

"Right… right…" I groaned, folding so fast despite not wanting to be the one to fix all the problems that Warren had caused. Since he returned, I had made him sleep in the guest room. He had tried to get closer to me, touching me, talking to me, but I wouldn't have any of it. I simply couldn't act anymore.

"Fix it, Alison, or don't bother showing up,"my mother added firmly.

"Is that an option?" I quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

"Now is not the time for jokes. You fix this!" she snapped before hanging up.

I stowed my phone, sensing a hollow sensation spreading in my chest. It had always lurked there, yet for so long, I had chosen to disregard it. I pretended it was nonexistent, though it clearly persisted. Now, unable to overlook it any longer, its presence felt more profound than ever.

I pushed myself out of bed to clean up and pack the toy away before making the bed, and then getting dressed. To my surprise, as I came downstairs and into the kitchen, Warren was still there. He hadn't gone to work yet, and I froze as I entered. He gave me a small smile before holding out a second cup of coffee to me.

"With milk?" I questioned, unsure of what to make of his gesture.

He grabbed the milk carton, pushing it closer, oblivious to my preferences, and allowing me to pour the amount I desired. As I reached for the cup, my hand closed around the milk, only to pause abruptly.

No, screw him, I thought, determinedly taking the cup and heading to the sink to empty it. I shot him a glare as I did so, then resolutely went to make another cup at the coffee machine. Every action was calculated to assert my icy demeanor, the persona I had once embodied, but he deserved nothing less.

For a month, I had sacrificed myself to my own enemy, enduring his twisted desires for Warren"s sake. I was exhausted from constantly cleaning up his messes. He was a grown man. He could manage on his own.

"Alison," he began.

"When I have had my coffee, you can speak," I snarled, forcing him to wait, and he let out an exasperated sigh, waiting for me to be done.

Once I had the coffee in my cup, I walked back to my place on the other side of the kitchen island and poured the milk into it. When I was done, I turned to Warren, who was still waiting for me to be ready to listen.

"Go on," I told him.

"This can't keep going on."

"Oh? What? The affairs or my attitude?"

"Preferably both."

"Well, I can only fix one of those things, but I choose not to, because you see, I have counted how many times I told you to end those affairs, and so I have decided that you will need to at least tell me to stop 22 times before I will quit the attitude," I informed him.

"I think I'm getting there," he murmured.

"No, you have done it 8 times now. Only 16 more to go."

"Please, love…"

"Don't call me that," I growled.

"Listen, I didn't know someone was following me. Had I known—"

"Then what?" I interrupted. "You would have come up with a better excuse than ‘I slipped and my dick fell into her pussy'?"

Warren groaned, leaning his head forward, obviously done with my snarky comments, but every time I looked at him now, I just couldn't keep my anger in. I had suppressed it, buried it deep within, convincing myself that his actions were forgivable. I clung to the belief that if I strived to restore our happiness, I could overlook his infidelities. However, the truth dawned on me: happiness would forever elude us. Even though he had ceased his affairs, the damage remained irreparable. His transgressions had stained our marriage irreversibly, leaving an indelible mark.

"Alison," he began.

"I can't keep covering for your sorry ass. I shouldn't have to," I snarled.

"Of course not. I promise you, something like that will never happen again."

"You think that reassures me?"

"Why wouldn't it?" he inquired, and I sighed, shaking my head. I placed my cup down and pressed my fingers to my eyes, trying to alleviate the headache that was coming from having a conversation with my husband. I acknowledged it was my own fault. I had given him such free rein for so long. Of course, he no longer understood that words weren't enough.

"How many times have you not made that promise to me?" I whispered, slowly lowering my hands and watching him with an absolutely defeated feeling in my heart.

Warren shrugged. "This time I mean it."

"The last times you meant it, and it happened again and again."

He looked down, but I could see it wasn't guilt for betraying me that showed in his eyes. It was the guilt of getting caught, the shame, and the realization that his words couldn't sway me anymore. It was rather pathetic, and as I sat there, I realized I loathed my own husband.

"I am not covering up for you this time," I explained.

"Alison, this is both our marriage. What wouldn"t people say?"

"I don't know, but it seems I'm about to find out."

"Don't they already gossip at your workplace?"

They were. The looks and whispers followed me around, but I had come to realize I didn't care anymore. I didn't care at all.

"They do."

"And that doesn't matter to you?" he questioned.

"Warren, I'm not the one who slipped and somehow ended up fucking all those women," I taunted him. "It's you, and I am not going to waste my time once more trying to cover up your affairs. You figure it out."

He seemed nervous, as if he had no idea how to cover up his own mistakes. I had been the one doing it. I was the mastermind behind it all, and as I saw him hesitating, trying to find a way to convince me to help him, it just proved how incapable he was of anything. That little expression about behind a powerful man stood an even greater woman became painfully true to me.

I sighed, leaving the rest of my coffee as I went to get my stuff. Warren followed me, looking like a lost puppy as I gathered my jacket and briefcase.

"At least let us sleep in the same room again," he told me.

"No. Not until the rumors are gone."

"Alison…" he sighed.

"Warren, I am your wife," I growled at him, pointing at the ground. "I may not have been able to give you the family you desired, but then leave me! Leave me or treat me like a partner!"

He seemed shocked that I would even bring up the topic of children. We had avoided it at all costs, but I wasn't scared anymore. After surviving Jared's torture, I simply stopped feeling so afraid. I stopped caring so much about all of these things I knew should matter. And while I may not escape my mother's party or smiling at people while standing beside Warren, it didn't mean I had to accept his weak attempts at being my husband. If he wanted me back, he would have to fight for me. Just once, he would have to fight.

"Now I'm going to work," I stated. "You can think a little about my ultimatum."

"Alison," he called, but I slammed the door shut before he could say any more.

I walked to my car and drove to work, but as I stopped in the parking lot marked as mine and stared up at my glorious building, I felt tired. Another day of having to listen to voices and feel their eyes on me. I could fix it all. I could cover Warren's affairs up so easily, but I just didn't care enough anymore.

I exited my car, collected my belongings, and made my way inside. After scanning my card, I proceeded to the elevator. Despite observing others also heading in that direction, none dared to join me, not even before the rumors circulated. Ascending to the top floor, I found Maddy, my assistant, awaiting my arrival once more.

"Morning, boss," she greeted.

"Morning, Maddy," I greeted back, giving her a small smile.

The first time I had done so after getting back, she had seemed shocked, but now she was getting used to my changed behavior. I wasn't sure what had prompted me to suddenly smile a genuine smile at her, but it had become a habit.

"More fires to put out?" I joked as we walked toward my office.

"No fires. New models, though, and we should look into the fall collection," she explained.

"Great. I will take a look at all of that," I assured her, stopping in front of my office, and she handed over the papers in her hands.

I grabbed them, and she turned around, ready to go, but as I opened my door, she called out to me. I turned back to her, waiting for her to speak, but she seemed nervous.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"I-I know many are too afraid to even speak to you, but trust me, lots of us have been there," Maddy told me.

I looked confused after her as she turned on her heel and walked back to her desk. I shrugged it off, entering my office only to freeze and realize what Maddy was referring to. I turned to look over my shoulder, through the glass door. My curiosity got the best of me, and I walked outside again, coming over to her.

"Anything wrong, boss?" she asked, seeing me stop in front of her.

"What did you mean by that?" I inquired.

"What?"

"The statement you just made, about many of you having experienced the same."

"Well, um, I didn't know if you wanted to talk about it, but your husband isn't the first man to cheat," she pointed out.

"No, but I'm the person he cheated on," I sighed, leaning a hand on her desk.

"Lots of great women have been deceived before. It's not your fault."

I focused on Maddy, seeing her give me a small smile. I was surprised by how much her words affected me. I was certain everyone, even here at the office, blamed me, but what if I had been wrong? What if they weren't blaming me at all?

"No? Is that what everyone else thinks?" I questioned, but Maddy glanced away, looking nervous. "I see…"

"Some just blame you because…" she trailed off, but she didn't need to finish that sentence. I knew what she was referring to.

"But I don't, and I know a lot of women here don't either. They know what scumbags men sometimes can be," Maddy continued.

I offered her a faint smile and a slight nod, though deep down, I remained uncertain if it made me feel any better. In many ways, I still harbored self-blame—not so much for the affairs themselves, but for my acquiescence, for feeling compelled to conceal it all and wear a fa?ade of cheerfulness.

"Thank you, Maddy. Keep up the good work," I commended her before pivoting on my heel and making my way back to my office.

As I entered and settled at my desk, tidying away the papers, my gaze fixed on the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows. Memories flooded back of Jared seated before me, unveiling his sinister contract. Strangely, I found myself yearning for his return, for the familiarity of his demands. Though being subservient to him had been far from enjoyable, the simplicity of serving had grown unexpectedly appealing.

Now, back in my own life, I couldn"t ignore the relentless stream of tasks and crises demanding my attention. When I served Jared, there were no fires. He was in charge. I groaned, leaning forward and feeling a dull pulsating sensation between my legs.

"Jesus, get a grip, Alison. You're free of him. You can let him go now," I whispered to myself, but if it had been that easy, I would have let him be when we were kids. I hadn"t even known him, yet a single glance at the unfamiliar boy, and I felt an inexplicable sense of possession. What was wrong with me? Why couldn"t I simply let him be? Raising my head, I found myself fixating on the ring adorning my finger, absently twisting it back and forth. Soon enough, a similar band would encircle his own finger, marking him as belonging to someone else. It was truly time to bid farewell to doggy.