JOAN’S POV
It was well past midnight when I slipped downstairs to the kitchen. I couldn’t sleep so I decided to get a glass of milk to calm myself down.
Just as I got the milk I needed, the muffled sound of voices caught my attention. I could hear a low argument coming from down the hallway. Curiosity got the better of me as it always did and I found myself walking closer. I stayed behind a pillar, straining my ears to catch every word.
It was Derrick and Henry. They were both arguing about something.
“You’re hiding something, Derrick.” Henry said “How long do you think you can keep it a secret?”
Derrick’s response was calm “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Henry. Stay out of my affairs, or you’ll regret it.”
I held my breath as I pieced together what little I could from their exchange. It was clear there was a rift between them.
Just then, the sound of footsteps approaching shocked me. I ran back to the staircase, making my way up as silently as possible.
Once I was in my room, I closed the door and pressed my back against it as I tried to steady my heartbeat.
What was that all about?
—
The next evening, a grand dinner was held at the mansion for Derrick’s associates.
The glam team arrived early. I sat still, letting them work. One stylist brushed my hair while another applied makeup. They applied a dark, smoky shadow around my eyes, which made my eyes seem more bolder. A bright red gloss touched my lips, adding just enough shine to make them appear full.
Then came the dress. It was a deep velvety red dress that fitted perfectly to my figure. The fabric clung to my curves before flowing out at the hips. The neckline was low and daring.
A diamond necklace was clasped around my neck, and diamond earrings dangled, glinting every time I moved.
David came in once I was dressed. He came in with a group of photographers who took pictures of me. They positioned me at different angles to capture the image that was expected of me. I posed, smiling softly, standing as tall as I could.
Finally, when the time came, I was led to the main hall, where the dinner was being held. The grand hall was more lavish than I’d ever seen it. Crystal chandeliers glittered above. The tables were set with the finest silverware and delicate crystal glasses. Waiters in black ties and white gloves moved between guests, serving champagne and plates of food. The guests themselves were… intimidating. Their appearance alone seemed to radiate wealth and power. These were dangerous men. That much was clear.
I scanned the crowd, feeling a nervous flutter in my stomach-until my gaze landed on Derrick.
He stood near the head of the room, surrounded by a group of men. He commanded their attention effortlessly as usual. Even in the luxury of the hall, he was the most magnetic presence. His dark suit was tailored to perfection, highlighting his broad shoulders.
Then, as if he sensed my gaze, Derrick’s eyes met mine. The noise and movement around us faded into silence, and in that instant, it felt like we were the only two people in the room. The intensity in his eyes made my heart pound. I felt a warmth blooming in my chest. It felt both thrilling and terrifying.
The connection I felt to him left me breathless. His eyes made me feel vulnerable and yet invincible all at once. I could feel the blush creeping up my neck, the kind of reaction I wished I could control but couldn’t. With that single look, Derrick made me feel alive, as if he had set my soul on fire with nothing more than a look.
I couldn’t deny how handsome he looked, how magnetic his presence was, how he had a pull on me that I couldn’t ignore. But I quickly snapped out of it. I reminded myself that tonight was all about appearances. I made my way over, slipping my arm through his and we fell into the role of the perfect couple. He introduced me to some of the men. We mingled with guests, shared polite laughter.
I kept a smile plastered on my face, pretending that everything was perfect.
When it was time for dinner, Derrick and I took our seats at the head of the table. The dinner went well. The guests talked about politics, business and other topics I had no idea about. It didn’t matter. I was basically an accessory anyway.
Just when I thought I was starting to settle in, the double doors at the far end of the hall swung open. My attention snapped to the entrance as a group of women walked in with bold confidence.
They were dressed-or barely dressed-in glittering, sequined outfits that hugged their bodies in a way that left little to the imagination. Each woman wore a variation of the same look: short, tight skirts, thigh-high boots and cropped tops with low necklines that had sparkling chains and beads.
I gasped when I realized who they were. Strippers.
When the women walked in, the room became filled with howls and wolf whistles.
“Let’s get this party started” one man said, clapping his hands.
One woman in particular caught my attention as she led the group. Her outfit was a shiny silver that sparkled every time she moved. She wore bold makeup. Her lips were painted a deep shade of red and her eyes were lined heavily. Her eyes roamed over the room, smiling at everyone.
The women scattered through the hall. Each woman moved between tables. They made their way to the men seated around us, who watched with eager, hungry eyes. I felt a cold knot form in my stomach as I watched one of the women slide onto the lap of a man sitting across from us. She draped her arms around him. Her fingers trailed down his chest as if she’d done this a thousand times before.
And then, before I could stop myself, my eyes shifted to Derrick. He remained calm. His expression was unreadable as he watched them. But when one of the women, a stunning brunette in a red outfit walked over to him, my heart twisted in my chest. She reached for him without hesitation, running her fingers over his shoulder as she slid down into his lap. Her arm wrapped around his neck as she looked at him with a seductive smile.
I could barely breathe as I watched Derrick let her do her thing. His hand moved to her waist as he leaned back. He looked completely at ease, like this was nothing more than routine. I tried to look away, to ignore the jealousy I felt but I was rooted to the spot. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the sight. The lights in the room had gotten darker.
The woman on Derrick’s lap whispered something into his ear, and he chuckled. Briefly, Derrick’s eyes met mine. I forced a tight smile but the sight of him with that woman on his lap-the way she wrapped herself over him so confidently-left me feeling hollow.
Derrick raised his hand and snapped his fingers, summoning Santi. Santi approached with a black box. When he opened it, bundles of crisp dollars laid inside. Derrick took a handful, handing them to the woman on his lap, who grinned. She kissed his cheek as she tucked the bills into her outfit.
She started dancing, grinding her hips his lap, while he leaned back. He lit his cigarette as if this was all perfectly normal, perfectly fine.
My heart twisted. I fought to keep my face neutral, to act unaffected, but the lump in my throat made it hard to breathe. I looked around the room and that was when I noticed that few of the mens’ wives who were present didn’t dare say anything. They drank their wine and used their phones as if nothing was happening. They were used to it.
Was this really what I’d signed up for? Was this what it would mean to be Derrick’s wife?
I could feel my composure cracking. The smile I’d forced slipped with every second I sat there, watching her dance on him. Her hands explored his chest as if I wasn’t even there, as if I didn’t matter. The breaking point came when she leaned in and brushed her lips against his neck. Her shirt slipped from her shoulders, revealing her boobs. She grabbed his hands and placed it on her breasts.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sit there and watch it for another moment.
Pushing back from the table, I stood. Heads turned, but I didn’t care. I lifted my chin, trying to hold onto what dignity I had left, and walked out of the room.
Once I was upstairs, safe in my room, I let the tears come. I sank onto my bed and cried. I grabbed a piece fabric I’d been working on and started to sew. I tried to focus on the needle, the thread. I let my hands work mechanically, stitching as tears slipped silently down my cheeks, but my mind kept circling back to Derrick, to that awful performance.
Why? Why did he do this? Why did he act like my feelings didn’t matter, like I was invisible?
I clenched the fabric tighter. A hundred questions raced in my mind, questions I knew Derrick would never answer.
I was more than this. I would find a way to hold onto my dignity, to protect my heart.
Tonight, he’d shown me exactly what he was capable of. And I’d learned something, too.
I would not break for him.