Who's the Legal Wife?

Blossom

I wore a blood-red maxi dress with long, sheer tulle sleeves that floated behind me like smoke. The plunging back and sculpted fit screamed danger. Villainess energy. That’s what I was going for. I wanted to look like the nightmare he didn’t know he’d been sleeping on.

Black stilettos clicked against marble as I entered with two guards flanking me. I wasn’t just making an entrance—I was reclaiming my kingdom.

The front door creaked open.

Leo wasn’t home. Figures. Probably still out working overtime for the woman who should be choking on guilt but wasn’t.

But she was here.

Sitting on the couch. Laughing. Wearing white—how ironic. The nerve of her, sipping juice and lounging like she owned the place.

My house.

I crossed my arms and tilted my head.

“Funny how when you dump trash in your palace, the whole castle starts to reek.”

The glass in her hand slipped, hitting the floor with a dull thud. Her friend stiffened. But she—the mistress—just stared, frozen.

“Oh? Cat got your tongue?” I raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong? Shocked to see the legal wife return to her own home?”

She shot up, eyes wide. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“No, sweetheart,” I cut her off smoothly. “The real question is what the hell are you doing here? My name’s on this house. Yours isn’t even worth printing.”

Her jaw clenched, but I didn’t give her a chance to speak.

“Guards,” I said, without taking my eyes off her. “Take all my luggage to my husband’s room. And if you see any cheap lingerie or trashy clothing that doesn’t belong to me, toss it. Set it on fire, if you want. I don't care.”

“You can’t do that!” she snapped. “You can’t just walk in here and act like—”

“Like what? Like this house is mine?” I smiled, cold and deadly. “That’s because it is.”

Her voice shook as she shouted, “That’s Leo’s room! Mine and Leo’s!”

Her words made something inside me crack.

I grabbed the second glass of juice—probably her friend's—and stepped closer. Real slow. Then, I tipped it over her head, watching it spill down her fake-pure white blouse.

“There,” I said, calm as ice. “A little juice to wash away your delusions.”

She gasped, backing away, her makeup ruined. I pressed the empty glass into her hand.

“I assume your lips touched this? Take it with you. I don’t want your filth contaminating anything else in my home.”

Her friend sat frozen. She, however, looked like she was ready to combust.

“Leo will find out about this! You think he’s just going to let you get away with this?!”

“By all means,” I said sweetly. “Call him. Want me to help dial?”

She let out a frustrated scream and threw the glass at the floor, shattering it.

I laughed. “Cute tantrum. Did you rehearse that in front of the mirror?”

Then I turned toward the staircase and started walking.

“Since you've been freeloading here for two years, the least you can do is clean up your own mess for once. Oh, and just a heads-up—once I have you evicted, maybe try squatting in a place that doesn’t have my name on the deed.”

I paused halfway up and gave her a look.

“Don’t worry, I won’t take everything. You can keep the stained sheets, the couch you’ve defiled, and anything else you’ve touched. I wouldn’t use them anyway.”

At the top of the stairs, I saw the guards carrying out her things. Perfect timing.

Then I heard it.

Leo’s car.

I rushed into the bedroom and peeked out the window—just in time to see him wrap his arms around Erin, comforting her as she sobbed like the victim she wasn’t. He looked up and met my gaze.

If looks could kill, I’d be buried.

I closed the curtain. Let it burn.

It still hurt. I wouldn’t admit it out loud, but my chest ached, my eyes stung, and everything inside me screamed.

Two years had passed. And yet here I was, still fighting ghosts that refused to leave.

Then came the slam.

The door downstairs banged shut like a gunshot. Footsteps stormed up the stairs, and before I could blink, Leo burst into the room, eyes flaming with rage.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he shouted, grabbing my arm and yanking me up from the bed. “What did you do to Erin?!”

I jerked my arm away and met his glare with one of my own.

“What did I do?” I scoffed. “You mean besides walking into my house, where my husband’s whore was playing queen?”

“You shouldn’t have touched her! You should’ve waited for me to come home!”

I laughed. Laughed in his face.

“Wait? For you? While she plays house with my life?” My voice dropped. “I didn’t even lay a hand on her, Leo. She’s just stupid enough to get humiliated by a glass of juice.”

His nostrils flared. “You had no right—”

“And you had no right to bring her into my home!” I screamed. “You think I should just roll out a red carpet for the woman you cheated on me with?!”

His fists clenched, but I didn’t care.

“You want to know why I came back?” I whispered, stepping closer. “Because I’m still your wife. And if you think you’re going to live happily ever after with your little sidepiece while I disappear—think again.”

I brushed past him and slammed my shoulder into his.

“Try bringing her back here again, and I’ll drag both of you to hell myself.”

“Blossom! Blossom, stop!” he roared.

I turned back and raised my middle finger with a smirk.

“Fuck you, Leo.”

Let’s see who survives this war. Because I’m not leaving.

And I’m not signing a goddamn thing.