~IMANI~

This is what my life has become. After years of being married to Louis Benoit, who is the third richest man in Massachusetts and one of the top richest men in the country, I had slowly become background noise.

I walked off the stage with a tight smile while Louis's boisterous voice carried on as he bragged about all the achievements he'd made this year with the business, failing to mention the brain behind all those incredible accomplishments.

Over the years, I was no more than a trophy wife to anyone viewing our marriage from the outside. And it was the same for Louis as well; he doesn't see me as more than an object necessary to flaunt his social status. It was a thing of pride for him to have married the only daughter of the Knightley's, more so the only man who succeeded in domesticating Imani Knightley.

Do I blame him, though?

I had been, foolishly so, still in love with this man called Louis despite the disparities occurring in our marriage as of late. A lot has changed in our marriage since my parents passed away five years ago. At first, I blamed it on grief and my inability to be emotionally present for my husband, who, in his words, was working very hard to make sure my parents' legacy didn't go to ruin. But then I got my shit together, and things got better—maybe not as sweet as the first year of our fresh love but I thought we were good until recently.

"Mrs. Benoit." I knew who the voice belonged to even before I turned in the direction of the sound.

A giggle filtered through the classical music playing in the background as I turned to face a group of five ladies, three of whom were wives of my husband's business associates. I wouldn't call their husbands Benoit friends, nor would I refer to any of these ladies as my friends. Their relationship with my family was borne purely out of business and, of course, their need to latch onto someone successful.

"Gracie," I addressed the young lady who had called me.

The frown on her face was immediate, just as I had expected. She wasn't married to John yet, and I saw no reason why I should address her by his last name, even though they've been living under the same roof for about three years. She had moved in with him a few days after his legally married wife moved out. She has since attached herself to the group and expected to be treated with as much respect as the other women.

"I hope you're enjoying yourselves, ladies." I addressed the other women, choosing to completely disregard Gracie because I knew nothing pleasant would come out of her mouth. She was one of those perfect examples of beauty on the outside but ugly as a hag within. Her heart is vile.

I heard Gracie Scoff. "The party turned out better than I expected," she commented.

"This isn't our first rodeo," I replied with a sickly smile.

She rolled her eyes. "Of course, we know," she replied with a low sneer. "It's basically the only thing you're good at as someone infertile," she murmured under her breath and the ladies beside her pretended to cough as if that would drown out Gracie's words.

No amount of background noise could've prevented me from hearing what she said. I heard her not-so-silent jab at my inability to give my husband a child. Despite my stoic expression, her words hit home and cut deep. I often try not to let the gossip around me affect me but there is only so much a woman can take.

Heaven knows my childlessness isn't for my lack of trying. I have tried my best and done everything possible anyone in my position would do to have one at least. I want to be a mother. I want to experience the joys of motherhood but somehow, each time I get the slightest glimpse of hope, I lose the pregnancy before I can even soak in the joy of being pregnant.

Despite the pang of pain in my chest, I smiled bashfully at Gracie. "It is good to know we both excel at one thing; honestly, I have not the slightest idea what it feels like to be a ring bearer. Not that I've been invited to be a ring bearer at any wedding; I'm probably too old for that anyway." I waved off the idea with a soft laugh. "I bet you would know what it feels like, Gracie, from experience." I gestured to the huge diamond ring on her finger. "One could say you've worn that throughout my marriage. How long has it been, three years? Four? Five?" I scrunch my nose, pretending to ponder the answer.

"How long has it been since Nessa moved out of Johnathan's home? My memory is a bit hazy." I turned to the other ladies as I asked, and they all sputtered, suddenly seeming to find something interesting in the champagne glass they were holding.

Gracie's porcelain face had gone beet red, and if ears emitting fumes were a real thing, hers were surely smoking up the entire hall. Not only was the anger obvious on her face but the embarrassment and shame were undeniable. It was no secret that the subject of her marathon engagement to Johnathon was a sore spot for her and people in our social circle often danced pins and needles around the subject.

I wasn't the type to hit people where it burns but if she could stand there and use my pain against me, then I wasn't above hitting her where it hurts.

"You…"

She began speaking but I was done with this conversation and I wasn't about to let her ruin the rest of my already bad night. "If you'll please excuse me, ladies, I must find my husband. I have a few things to discuss with my husband." I stressed the word husband with a sweet smile on my face. "Please enjoy the rest of your evening." I passed another sickly sweet smile at Gracie before turning on my heels and walking away.

My intention was to head to the bedroom and wallow in the silence it would provide for a few minutes. Unfortunately, I was accosted by some of the board members. Holding a conversation with them wasn't a hassle, as I've known some while my father was still in charge of the company and business.

I ended up excusing myself from the conversation with a polite smile after some minutes. As I walked the banquet hall, I scanned the crowd for any sign of Louis but found none.

Too occupied with trying to find my husband in the sea of people, I walked straight into a hard surface, stumbling back and nearly falling on my behind, only for a firm hand to snag around my waist and hold me steady.

"Easy there, Princess." I bit back a groan. I immediately knew who my savior was.

"Mr. Dubois." I forced through clenched teeth, hands on his chest, as I tried to pry myself from his embrace.

"Dominique. I've told you several times to call me Dominique," he mused, refusing to let go.

I was no stranger to the eyes on us. I knew the little ruckus had attracted some of the party guests and they were vultures always seeking a new subject of gossip.

"We do not share such a close relationship where I get to address you in that manner, Mr. Dubois. You are a business friend of my husband. I do not call my husband's business friends by their names."

The scowl on his face was hard to miss but he tried hiding it behind a smile as he opened his mouth to speak. "I am…"

I pushed away from his hold, taking several steps back to put some distance between us. "If you would please excuse me, I have a few things to cater for. The night is still young and the party is coming alive. I need to make sure my guests have the best experience, as always. I hope you enjoy the rest of the night, Mr. Dubois. I can see you've started on a few glasses of champagne; there's enough to go around, and there are designated drivers in the compound if need be." I managed to speak in the most polite, condescending voice that I could as I sidestepped him.

I made my way down the hallway leading to the elevator, a sigh on my lips as the noise of the party drowned behind me.

I just need a few minutes off my feet. These heels are killing me, and my stomach feels

funny. I can hide away for some minutes now that Louis is mostly occupied with his friends.

With that thought, I rode the elevator to the top floor, another sigh of relief on my lips as I walked through the living space and our bedroom door came into view.

Bending down to undo the buckle of my shoes with one hand on the doorknob, I halted as Louis's voice filtered through the door and another.

"How long do we have?" Someone asked, with a female voice coming from our bedroom.

"Some minutes. The hag is busy trying to please the guest; I can savor you until she notices I'm gone." Louis replied.

The hag?

What hag was he referring to?

A scoff followed, and then noises. "Your wife is such a spoilsport. Fuck, baby, go faster." The female moaned and my hand began trembling on the door name.

I know that voice. I…

"Nghhh, always so tight. God, Vie, I love fucking your pussy. The best place to be in the whole world. Always so tight and juicy for me." My husband moaned in obvious pleasure as the sounds of him hammering into his companion filtered through the door.

I stumbled back on wobbling feet, my heart plummeting into my stomach as I tripped on shaking legs and I fell hard on my ass.

Pain shot up my spine and my stomach coiled in a painful knot. My hands trembled and my eyes watered as I tried to process what I was hearing.

This must be some sort of painful dream because Louis will never cheat on me.

He won't.

He is not that type of person.

He just isn't...

But his moans only grew louder as I fought with the reality of what I was hearing.