The Dare​

1 I got a video. It was from her assistant. On the screen, my wife was locked in a passionate kiss with him—in my car. There were even wet stains glistening on our son's child safety seat. The excuse? She’d lost a game of dare. I forwarded the video to her directly. "Is Belmont Enterprises going bankrupt, Victoria? Is my car the only place you can afford for your little affair?" Her reply was a voice message, her tone syrupy with wine and flirtation. "We have a business arrangement, Zac. Did you actually start thinking you were my husband? It was just a game. Why are you getting so worked up over nothing?" A cold laugh escaped me. It was time to teach her that some games have consequences you have to pay for. … I made a single call and killed the massive overseas deal Belmont Enterprises was set to sign next week. A moment later, my phone blew up with calls from my wife, Victoria Belmont. My secretary fielded every one of them. "I'm sorry, Ms. Belmont, Mr. Kingsley is in a meeting." She wanted to play the silent game? Fine. I could play too. It didn't take long. Victoria stormed into my office, her heels clicking like gunshots on the marble floor. She slammed her palm down on my desk. "Zac, have you lost your mind? That's a three-hundred-million-dollar deal! You're going to ruin my company over a stupid dare?!" The ever-poised, sophisticated Victoria Belmont, now screeching like a banshee. All for another man. I set down the financial report I was reading and looked up at her, my eyes tracing the furious twist of her beautiful features. "You have fifteen minutes." Ten minutes later, a picture arrived on my phone. The interior of my Maybach, spotless and pristine, being detailed by a professional cleaning crew. I immediately notified the overseas department. "The signing proceeds as planned." Then, I sent Victoria a picture of my own. Her most treasured couture gown, the one she adored, was trampled on the floor. Her favorite pair of custom-designed heels were submerged in a filthy mop bucket. "This is a game of dare too, Victoria. Remember where my lines are drawn. This is just a warning. Piss me off again, and you won't like the consequences." Silence from her end. I knew she was incandescent with rage. But my own anger burned hotter. She was the one who pushed for this marriage between the Kingsley and Belmont families. She was the one who rejected the idea of an open relationship, insisting on a real commitment. In six years, we went from polite strangers to a true partnership, a team. Especially after our son, Noah, was born. I poured everything I had into our family, leveraging my power to make both our family companies flourish. I thought we had an agreement. A life we would build together, supporting each other until we could retire, old and successful. But she had just shattered that illusion. That three-hundred-million-dollar deal I’d briefly suspended? That was just the opening shot. 2 That night, for the first time in our marriage, Victoria didn't come home. The next day, I walked straight into the Belmont Enterprises headquarters and took the executive elevator to the top floor. The reception area was empty. Normally, both our assistants would be stationed here. I hadn't brought mine today, but where was hers? A wave of unrestrained laughter drifted from her office, slicing through the silence. Through the gaps in the blinds, I saw him—her assistant, Ryan Cole—holding a hairdryer, attentively styling her hair. Victoria was leaning back in her executive chair, a relaxed smile on her face as they chatted. She had always been a person who valued her personal space. Besides me, no one was ever allowed to linger in her office. But the casual intimacy she showed Ryan was a knife twisting in my gut. Even more jarring was the watch on Ryan’s wrist, its metallic sheen catching the light. It was the exact custom timepiece she’d picked out for me on her last trip abroad. My birthday gift. An intern like Ryan couldn't afford a single link of that watch, even if he sold himself piece by piece. I pushed the door open. Ryan jumped as if electrocuted, dropping the hairdryer. A sycophantic smile stretched across his face. "Mr. Kingsley, what brings you to this part of the building?" I gave him a look that could freeze fire. "I'm a director and general manager of this company. The last person I need to explain my presence to is an intern." I leveled my gaze at him. "Go get the head of HR. I want to ask her when the hiring standards at this company dropped so low." Ryan shot a desperate look at Victoria. She gave him a slight nod, a silent order to make himself scarce. As he turned to leave, my voice cut through the air, cold and sharp. "Take off the watch." He froze, his hand instinctively covering the timepiece as he looked at Victoria like a kicked puppy. My eyes were locked on hers. "Explain," I demanded, my voice low. "Why is my birthday present on his wrist? The deposit slip is still in my desk drawer." Victoria’s expression hardened with impatience. "He's my assistant. He represents my image. You made such a scene about him being in your car, people are looking down on him. So I gave him a watch to help his professional appearance. What's the big deal? Your own assistant wears custom-tailored suits you paid for." "My assistant is a professional who earns his compensation through competence," I sneered. "What has this parasite done to deserve anything? Or does he just... service you well?" Her face went pale, then flushed a deep, furious red. "It's just a watch! Consider it compensation for the humiliation you put him through!" she shot back. "I'll buy you a better one for your birthday, okay?" 3 I laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "A limited-edition masterpiece. What gives him the right to wear it?" "Victoria, a person needs to act in accordance with their station." I took a step closer, my voice dropping to an icy whisper. "Mrs. Kingsley wears exclusive jewelry, couture gowns, and limited-edition heels. That is as it should be." "But for a mistress to access that level of luxury… money alone isn't enough." Victoria erupted. "Zac, we have important work to discuss! Ryan has put an immense amount of effort into this deal. I need you to leave, now!" She was actually shouting at me. For this leech. "Fine," I said with a chilling smile. "Let's see what your brilliant assistant is truly capable of." In a fit of pique, Victoria snatched her handbag and threw it at Ryan before storming out. He shot me a smug, greasy smirk before scurrying after her. I waited until the sound of her heels faded completely, then I made a call. "It's time. Make sure Mr. Donovan gives them the welcome they deserve." I ordered a coffee and settled into a chair by the floor-to-ceiling window. I’d barely taken two sips when Victoria called, her voice so shrill I had to hold the phone away from my ear. "Zac, you despicable bastard!" "Donovan just ripped up the contract in front of everyone! He called Ryan a kept man who services rich women and then he... he accused me of sleeping my way to the top!" "This was you! You set this up! I was blind to ever marry you!" I calmly set my cup down. "People say what they want, Victoria. How can I control that? If your conscience was clear, you'd have nothing to fear." Before I could finish, she shrieked. "The deal is dead, and Ryan ran off completely humiliated! Are you satisfied now?" A slow smile spread across my face. "Satisfied? I'm just putting things back where they belong." She hung up with a strangled sob. I called HR and had every trace of Ryan Cole scrubbed from the company. I thought I’d given her enough of a warning, enough of a chance to back down with a shred of dignity. If she would just behave, be my wife again, we could move past this. But she had no intention of taking the lifeline I’d thrown her. 4 Our son, Noah, was running a fever of 101.3°F, and he was clingier than ever. I stayed home with him all day, holding his hand through the IV drip, playing quietly by his side. When Victoria came downstairs, dressed to go out again, Noah’s small, weak voice stopped her. "Mommy, don't go!" She hesitated for a moment, then sat down on the edge of the bed. Seeing the relieved smile on my son’s face, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe she was coming to her senses. But that fragile moment of peace was shattered by the jarring ring of her phone. It was Ryan, his voice thick with fake tears. "Victoria, someone's following me! And online... they're calling me a gigolo, a leech, a homewrecker!" "Is Mr. Kingsley trying to destroy me? Please, just tell him I'll stay away from you. Tell him to just leave me alone!" I didn't even look up, just continued building a block tower with Noah. I had expected Ryan would face some backlash, but he was laying it on thick. Victoria, however, reacted as if her own tail had been stepped on. She slammed her phone onto the coffee table with such force that it cracked. Noah, startled by the noise, burst into tears. She didn't even glance at him. Instead, she rounded on me, her face a mask of fury, pointing a shaking finger at my nose. "Enough, Zac! I am sick to death of you and your manipulative games, acting like you control everything and everyone!" "You already drove Ryan away, why can't you just let him be?" "I married you, I didn't sell myself to you! You have no right to police every aspect of my life!" My patience snapped. "If you want to scream, get out!" I pointed toward the door. "Don't you dare scare our son!" She let out a bitter laugh. "You want to destroy him, Zac? Fine. I'll be the one to protect him!" And with that, ignoring Noah's desperate cries, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her. I watched her go, a cold darkness settling over me. She'd truly lost her mind. After getting Noah back to sleep, I opened my laptop. The morning's gossip about Ryan the homewrecker had been buzzing everywhere. By the afternoon, it had all vanished. She’d used the company's PR department. For him. It was pathetic. I was about to close the laptop when I saw it. An official statement, issued by Belmont Enterprises. It praised Ryan Cole's "outstanding professional abilities," condemned the "malicious rumors," and threatened legal action. Simultaneously, a message from my own HR head popped up. Victoria had officially promoted Ryan Cole to Operations Manager. He was given a private office on the executive floor and a vice-president's compensation package. My assistant forwarded me a screenshot from Ryan's social media. There he was, smug and triumphant in a new bespoke suit, that damn watch glittering on his wrist. I stared at the screen, a humorless smile twisting my lips. Fine, Victoria. You want to prop up this parasite? Don't blame me for what comes next. After setting my own plans in motion against her company, I rushed home, only to find Noah gone. "Where is he?" I demanded of the nanny. "M-Ma'am came back," she stammered. "She took the young master with her..." The rage I’d been suppressing finally erupted. My assistant tracked Victoria's location to an amusement park, and I sped there, my heart pounding with a terrible premonition. I found them near the carousel. Victoria and Ryan were walking ahead, whispering intimately, completely oblivious to our sick little boy stumbling to keep up behind them. Noah's small face was flushed red with fever and slick with sweat, his voice a choked plea. "Mommy... slow down... it hurts... wait for me..." A cruel, vicious smile curled Ryan's lips. He subtly stuck his foot out. Thump. Noah fell hard onto the pavement. He was stunned for a second, then his face crumpled, and he let out a heart-wrenching wail. Victoria instinctively moved to help him, but Ryan spoke first, his voice dripping with faux innocence. "Victoria, do you think... maybe he doesn't like me? Is he faking it to get attention?" At his words, Victoria froze. Her hand dropped. She turned and glared down at her own crying son. "Ryan was kind enough to bring you here to have fun, and you're faking falls? Why are you being so difficult?" I was a blur of motion. I sprinted past them and scooped my sobbing, hyperventilating child into my arms. The fire of my fury was hot enough to burn the world to ash. Victoria's face paled. "Ryan said I shouldn't have left Noah when he was sick," she explained, her voice frantic. "He suggested I bring him to the park to make it up to him..." "He's two years old," I said, my voice dangerously calm as I looked at her over our son's shaking shoulders. "What could he possibly do at an amusement park? Watch you two flirt? Or get tripped on purpose by your boy-toy?" The air went still. Ryan’s triumphant smirk froze on his face. Victoria's eyes widened in shock, an angry flush quickly replacing it. "Zac, don't twist our good intentions! We were just—" I held my son tighter, his terrified sobs muffled against my chest. I cut her off. "Victoria. We're getting a divorce."

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