The Betrayal

I stand in front of the full-length mirror, fingers brushing over my dress. The emerald-green silk is hugging my body perfectly. I tilt my head slightly, looking at myself from another angle, smoothing a crease near my hips.

The sound of the walk-in closet door opening pulls my attention away. Shawn steps out while fastening the silver Rolex around his wrist. The deep olive button-down stretches across his broad shoulders, its sleeves rolled to his forearms. Black pants sit perfectly on him.

His hair is still slightly damp from the shower, with dark strands pushed back carelessly.

I turn toward him, my lips curving as my eyes travel over his outfit. I point at myself.

“So that’s why you wanted me to wear this green dress?”

Shawn looks me up and down while adjusting his cuff. The corner of his mouth lifts, satisfied with what he sees. He walks toward me; his wooden, leathery, and whiskey scent reaches me before he does. Leaning down, he presses a kiss against the top of my head.

“Yeah.”

I feel warmth spread across my cheeks.

I place my palm against his chest. “But Shawn, we need to go to the jewelry store first, you remember?”

His warm hands slide up to cup my face, thumb brushing my cheeks.

“Baby, I remember everything you say.”

I scrunch my nose while glancing between our outfits in the mirror.

“Won’t it be too fancy for both of us to go in there wearing this?”

A soft laugh leaves his throat. Shawn takes a slow breath.

“Come on, you are married to Shawn Grayson. The store will be closed to the public until you choose a gift for your mom. Also, we’re having dinner after that.”

I slightly widen my eyes.

“Alright then, I think we should leave because we both are ready.”

He steps back and extends his hand toward me as usual.

“May I?”

I slip my fingers into his immediately, pride and satisfaction spreading across my chest. Even after two years of marriage, moments like these still make my stomach feel fluttery.

“Of course.”

Together we walk downstairs, fingers intertwined. Just as we reach the front door, Shawn’s phone starts ringing.

He grunts furiously. Then he pulls the phone from his pocket, already looking annoyed at the interruption. But the second his eyes fall on the screen, his expression changes instantly.

His grip around my hand loosens, and a muscle ticks in his jaw.

“I can’t ignore this call. Just give me a moment, please.”

I give him a small shrug, forcing understanding onto my face even when disappointment pinches lightly inside me. This isn’t new. Shawn’s work follows us everywhere.

Meetings, investors, urgent calls, and last-minute problems. I learned long ago that being married to a successful businessman also means sharing him with his company.

Still, I can’t complain much.

The man who is now ignoring dinner plans once spent years silently and secretly staring at me across college lecture halls and library tables; I always caught his gaze. But he never approached me. He never smiled or even said hello. He was the topper of the college.

Sometimes I wonder if he disliked me back in college. Or maybe, for the exact same reason, he never bothered to approach me. The reason I still cannot forget after all these years.

Again, his memory slips into my mind for half a second before I push it away quickly, not wanting to think about that time or him anymore.

“May, baby, I need an hour.”

Shawn’s voice pulls me back, and I suck in a quick breath and stumble back half a step

Shawn holds me by my arms. “Are you alright?”

I press my lips together and manage a small nod.

“What were you saying?”

“Yeah, I was saying I need an hour.”

I slump my shoulders and exhale longer than intended.

“Alright.”

I turn toward the stairs, already thinking about removing my heels and waiting upstairs until he finishes. Before I can take another step, Shawn gently catches my arm.

“Where are you going?”

I point upstairs.

“To the bedroom.”

“No, you can’t.”

I blink in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“You need to go to the store and buy a gift because the store will be closed for us, and I don’t think I’ll be able to do it again before your mom’s birthday.”

I roll my eyes.

“It’s next week.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m saying you go alone. I promise I’ll join you at dinner. Or maybe I’ll join you at the store if I get my work done before.”

He genuinely looks apologetic. His brows slightly pull together while his thumb rubs circles against my back.

For a second, I want to argue. Instead, I nod.

Shawn instantly leans down and kisses me softly before squeezing my waist.

“Come on, smile. Just a tiny change of plan.”

A reluctant giggle slips out of my throat. I walk toward the car outside while Shawn opens the backseat door for me. I slide inside the black Mercedes, smoothing my dress beneath my legs.

Shawn stands, one hand tucked into his pocket while the other lifts in a small wave. I watch him walk back inside the house as the driver pulls the car away.

I lean back in my seat and think. Funny how the same guy who once never even greeted me, after one eventful night, started talking to me. He showed me that he remembers every tiny thing I did or said in the past years of college.

Shawn became my friend when I was at my lowest, and after college, in five years, he became my biggest support as time went on.

One fine night at my brother’s birthday in a nightclub, we kissed. I thought it was the tequila, but even after wiping off the bad headache and hangover, I realized Shawn and I were now more than friends.

Then we dated for three years, and two years ago we got married.

When my car slows near the signal, I rest my elbow against the window and watch the two SUVs around my car like shadows that never leave.

Men in dark suits remain alert inside, eyes constantly moving, hands near their jackets. Sometimes I still don’t understand it. Shawn is just a businessman. Yet everywhere we go, security follows.

Rumors spread about Shawn endlessly online. Articles, gossip pages, and anonymous posts claim he works with shady people or runs shady businesses behind closed doors.

I used to read them initially, curiosity turning into frustration after seeing strangers paint him as something sinister.

But they don’t know him. They don’t see the sleepless nights, the endless meetings, or the way he forgets meals while buried in work. Shawn works harder than anyone I know, constantly chasing something bigger, even when exhaustion shows on his face.

I know success always comes with a price, and maybe this is our price to pay.

The car finally pulls over in front of the jewelry store. I patiently remain seated and wait for the signal. Because security moves first, they check the entrance and speak through their earpieces.

When the driver steps out after getting a signal in his earpiece, he opens the door, and I compose myself before stepping out of the car.

The second I enter the store, my phone starts ringing inside my clutch.

Shawn.

A smile appears on my lips, and I pick up the call.

“Yes, Shawn, I have reached the store.”

The sound of typing fills the line first. Even now, he’s still working.

“I know. I just wanted to hear your voice so that I know if you’re still upset with me or...”

I press my lips together, stopping myself from smiling.

“Or?”

“Or do I need to think about something to make up for it?”

I exhale and shake my head as I wander toward the glass displays that sparkle under warm lights.

“You don’t need to do anything because I understand. but if you try to bail on me—”

“I won’t.”

His quick interruption pulls another smile onto my face.

“Alright. I should let you go so you won’t be late.”

“Love you. See you at dinner.”

The call ends and I stare at the dark screen for a second before tucking the phone back into my clutch. Shawn never realizes how these tiny moments undo all my irritation. One phone call, one soft reassurance, and suddenly I can’t stay mad with him anymore.

A man wearing a beige suit approaches me and gestures toward the diamond section.

I follow him through the store, looking at necklaces and bracelets one after another. I barely hold the second piece of jewelry when a soft click echoes somewhere behind me.

The sound isn’t sharper or heavier, but it feels wrong.

I casually turn around and my entire body freezes.

One of my gunmen lies on the floor near the entrance. His eyes remain wide open, unmoving, while blood drips from the side of his head.