Chapter 2 - The Digital Execution
The catalyst for her current public humiliation had been a single, glaring notification on Richard’s unlocked phone, left carelessly on the bedside table.
Claire hadn't been snooping; the screen had simply lit up, illuminating the darkened hotel room. The text message read: "I can't wait for your heavy, whining wife to finally leave. I’ll be waiting in the penthouse tonight. Wear what I like. —Jessica."
Jessica. His executive assistant.
When Claire confronted him, clutching the phone with trembling hands, she had expected denial. She had expected him to spin a web of lies, to gaslight her, to tell her she was being paranoid due to pregnancy hormones.
He didn't do any of that. Richard simply snapped. He didn't even attempt to defend himself. His mask of the dutiful husband dissolved instantly, revealing a monster entirely consumed by arrogance and irritation. He had snatched the phone from her hands, grabbed her packed suitcase, and physically dragged her out of the room, down the elevator, and into the lobby, discarding her like an unwanted piece of furniture.
Now, kneeling on the cold floor, Claire looked up at him through a blinding veil of tears.
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"Richard... please," she begged, her voice cracking, abandoning whatever pride she had left for the sake of her unborn child. "I am pregnant. I don't have any money on me. You canceled my debit cards yesterday..."
"I canceled you," Richard replied smoothly, casually adjusting his silver cufflinks. "You are no longer my problem."
