Chapter 5

The next day was Sunday, and Murray mentioned he'd be heading to the office for some extra work.

"What, working this weekend too?" I asked.

"Yes. Many things are going on with this project lately," Murray replied.

"How about I go with you? I could cook something for you while you're at it," I offered.

"No, really, it's chaos at the office. Just stay home and take it easy," Murray said.

Once Murray had left, I headed straight for Willow Estate.

I had to see with my own eyes the place he'd put together for Sylvia.

Willow Estate was the city's most luxurious villa neighborhood, all lush landscapes and tight security.

I told the guard Sylvia's name, and, just like that, he let me through. I realized that Murray had already listed her as a resident.

The villa was enormous, dripping with luxury at every turn, and the garden overflowed with white roses.

Sylvia was watering those flowers, dressed in baggy home clothes. Her pregnancy was unmistakable now, the bump plain for anyone to see.

"Sorry, who are you?" Sylvia asked, her surprise plain when she saw me.

"I'm Elizabeth," I replied, slowly removing my sunglasses and locking eyes with her.

Sylvia's face drained of color. "M-Mrs. Johnson, what brings you here?"

"I just came to see the house my husband prepared just for you," I said, casting a slow look around the lavish villa. "Honestly, it makes our own wedding place look basic."

"Mrs. Johnson, it's not what you think. This isn't..." Sylvia tried to explain, her voice trembling.

"So what is it then? Are you really saying Murray didn't buy this place for you?" I cut her off, my tone sharp. "Sylvia, come on, are you seriously still going to play dumb at this point?"

Sylvia bit her lip and said nothing, too afraid to answer.

"Is the baby you're carrying Murray's?" I pressed, my gaze unwavering as I stared her down.

"I..." Sylvia stammered, and tears spilled down her cheeks.

"So, Murray spent the night here with you, didn't he?" I threw the words at her.

Sylvia just broke down completely, falling to the ground. "Mrs. Johnson, please, don't hurt my baby," she begged, hugging her belly and crying her eyes out.

"Hurt?" I scoffed, a bitter smile on my face. "Sylvia, from start to finish, I'm the one who's been hurt here."

"I know I've made mistakes," Sylvia sobbed, crying her heart out. "But Mrs. Johnson, I really love Murray. I'd do anything for him."

"Including being the other woman and destroying someone else's marriage?" I retorted, my sarcasm biting.

"I... I never wanted to break up your marriage, I just..." Sylvia mumbled, her voice shaking.

"Just what? Just got yourself pregnant? Just had Murray buy you a home? Just had him leave his brand-new wife for you last night?" I shot back, every word cutting deep.

Sylvia just stared at me, totally lost for words.

"Sylvia, I didn't come here to fight," I said, squatting down beside her. "I'm here to tell you it's time to end this mess."

"What do you mean?" Sylvia asked, her voice trembling.

"I mean, I'm going to make Murray pay for everything," I said, straightening up. "And as for you? You better pray you don't get dragged into it." With that, I turned and walked away.

Sylvia was crying hard behind me, but honestly, I didn't feel even a hint of pity.

She made up her mind to be the side chick, so she should've known it would end like this.

*****

Once I got home, I started drawing up my plan for revenge.

First, I'd make sure Murray got humiliated in front of everyone. Then, I'd reclaim everything that belonged to me. And finally, I'd make damn sure they both paid for what they did.

I fired up my laptop and started pulling together every shred of evidence—chat logs, recordings, photos, videos. Every piece was irrefutable.

Next, I sent out exclusive invitations to a few key figures—Murray's parents, my parents, and some of our closest friends in the social circle. I told them it was a "special gathering."

When Murray walked through the door that night, he looked pretty pleased with himself.

"Elizabeth, I'm back," he said, leaning in to plant a light kiss on my cheek.

"Murray, I was thinking maybe we could invite both our parents over for dinner," I suggested.

"Sure, sounds good. When were you thinking?" Murray asked, his interest clear.

"How about tomorrow night? We've been married so long and haven't ever really had both our parents over for dinner," I suggested.

"Alright," Murray agreed with a nod. "I'll have my mother bring a few gifts."

"No need to go overboard. Let's just keep it a casual, simple family dinner," I replied.

"We should still bring something," Murray insisted with a happy grin. "Elizabeth, you always think of every last detail."

I wondered if Murray would still be grinning like an idiot when he knew what this family dinner was actually for.

The next morning, I was up before the sun, diving straight into preparations.

I booked the restaurant, decorated and set up the hotel's conference room I'd reserved, and got all the projection equipment sorted—everything had to be absolutely perfect.

Later that afternoon, I called Murray. "Hey, Murray, I moved the dinner to the Golden Hotel. Our place can't really fit everyone."

"Alright, I'll go straight to the hotel," Murray answered.

"By the way, I invited a few friends too. You don't mind, right?" I asked.

"Not at all. The more, the merrier," Murray replied, clearly in a great mood.

If he had any idea who I'd really invited, he probably wouldn't be so thrilled.