“You don’t do anything right.” Simon snapped at her as he dashed into the bathroom to fix himself up. Sophie, on the other hand, continued to wear her smile even when he was no longer in sight, even when his mistress stood naked from the bed and began to scan the room for her clothes.

“It is at the entrance.” Sophie said in a very calm voice that was cold enough to melt iron. When Monica turned her hazel eyes towards her direction, her hands clenched by her sides. “Your clothes are at the entrance of the room. Down there.” She pointed.

Monica rolled her eyes at her and arrogantly walked away from the bed area, swinging her butt on her way out to remind Sophie the exact reason Simon was in lust with her. The sound of running water got Sophie’s attention immediately, and she quickly opened the door of the bathroom to see Simon taking off his pants, ready to jump into the bathtub.

“I don’t think you have time for that, honey.” Sophie said, walking in to turn off the tap. “We are already ten minutes late; your grandfather will be throwing fits already.”

“And whose fault is that?” Simon snapped, staring at her with disgust. He used his hand to adjust the state of his hair, trying to make it presentable enough for his family.

Sophie watched him leave the bathroom, and she followed solidly behind him, opening the closet to get a new and fresh set of clothes for him. After getting her hands on a fresh pair of joggers, she finally walked out only to see her husband kissing his mistress goodbye. Somebody else in my position would have strangled both of them at that instant, for not only being open about their disgusting relationship but also for disrespecting her like that. But Sophie tolerated everything because she knew she had no other choice.

“Leave through the east wing.” She called to Monica, who halted by the door when her conversation with Simon was over. When she turned to look at Sophie, still with the disgusted look on her face, Sophie pointed at nowhere in particular. “Leave through the east wing. That way, no one in the family will see you, and there are also just a few guards at that gate.”

“I know where the stupid east wing is, Mrs. Prim and Proper.” Monica slammed at her, referring to the diligent and calm way in which Sophie lived her life. Sophie managed to smile at her, and the latter shook her head before disappearing out of sight.

Now alone in the room, Simon eyed her suspiciously, his gaze suddenly dropping to her bare feet to see that she was hurt. “You still don’t know how to carry out your duties, do you?” he asked, his gaze hot and angry when they turned to her face. “What the hell happened to your leg?”

“It’s nothing,” Sophie said in a whisper, refusing the urge to wince now that he mentioned her injury. Somehow, the fact that he took notice of the wound made her begin to feel unbearable pain, but she managed to walk to him without limping.

Simon eyed her over and, with a slight shake of his head, collected the clothes from her hands. She watched him put them on, trying to forget the fact that she and Monica had been looking at her husband’s naked body all through the time they had all been in the room together. To steady herself, she took two deep breaths, replacing the disgusted look on her face with a smile when Simon turned to her again.

“Am I good to go?” he asked.

Sophie looked at him for a while, taking in his handsome features and how amazing he looked in joggers, before nodding her head. She moved closer before he could leave and, with her hands, arranged his hair a little bit better than he had done before.

“Let’s go.” She whispered.

“You are not going anywhere.” He said, turning away from her. “I don’t want my grandfather to notice the foul mood you are in and also the injury on your legs.

“Simon, I am not in a foul mood.” Sophie tried to speak, but he cut her off with a sharp stare that had her almost swallowing her tongue.

“You and I know that is not true, and if there is one person who can detect your mood, it is my grandfather. After all, he adores you.” Simon answered. “Take your time and see to your injury; we’ll be fine without you.”

Before she could say a word to argue with him, he was rushing out of the room and banging the door loudly after him.

Sophie stayed in the middle of the room, staring at his shirt, which was still sprawled on the tiled floor. She took deep breaths to calm her nerves before bending to pick it off the ground. She did need medical attention; she knew that, but one thing she needed more than ointments and bandages was to stand in front of Monica Hastings and rip her eyes out of their sockets.

***********

With a Band-Aid on her bare feet and a glass of wine in her right hand to keep her company, Sophie sat in the living room of her and her husband’s separate mansion. On paper, the entire Billiard family lived together under one roof, but it took only those who were close friends of the family to understand how the family house was actually structured.

There were eight huge mansions at the far end of the Billard estate, which were all connected to each other. Sophie and Simon’s mansion was the closest to the main one, where Joe Billard, the formidable chairman of the Billard group, lived. Joe himself had insisted that Simon lived closest to him because out of the three grandchildren he had, Simon was the only one fathered by his late son. The other two had been adopted by his daughter because she had felt too proud to marry and claimed she needed just one boy child and one girl to keep her happy and sane.

Sophie stood from the couch she sat on and began to pace the dark living room slowly, wondering why she suddenly began to think of the family estate and its dynamics. Maybe it was because this big house with eighteen servants was her sanctuary and the only place she didn’t feel suffocated, she thought, shaking her head slightly as she recalled how her relationship with her husband had unfolded down the years.

They hadn’t been in love, no. Sophie didn’t think there was a time in her life where Simon had loved her, but at least she knew there was a time he could stand her. Their relationship had started with a one-night stand that left her pregnant, and Joe Billard, not wanting his family’s name soiled because of one insignificant twenty-two-year-old girl, had arranged for them to get married. The marriage had happened so quickly, and before Sophie knew it, she was Sophie Billard, housewife to the great Simon Billard of the Billard Group, the second-largest conglomerate in the country. Simon had tolerated her for a while, and she might even think he had taught himself to start loving her, but everything changed after the miscarriage. He began to see her as an inconvenience that only happened because of his carelessness and somehow could no longer stand her.

And she had lived like this for four years. Not being properly kissed or even properly touched by her husband. He only made love… Scratch that, he had sex with her whenever he felt like it, however he felt like.

All of it was infuriating.

The sudden sound of the door unlocking snapped Sophie out of her thoughts, and she turned towards its direction even though she could barely see the entrance of the house from where she stood. She waited patiently for Simon to come in, surprised that he hadn’t taken off to Monica’s house like he was used to doing. As soon as he walked into the house fully and she saw his face, she knew immediately that something wasn’t right. Like someone possessed, he walked to her, flinging a brown envelope that she hadn’t taken notice of in her face.

Sophie shifted a little as the envelope touched her white floral nightwear and slipped to the ground before turning slowly to look at his face. “What is that, Simon?”

“Divorce papers.” He answered, staring at her squarely in the face. “I want a divorce.”

Sophie didn’t gasp in instant surprise, since she was one who knew how to control her emotions, neither did she blink out of shock. However, the glass of wine, which she had completely forgotten was in her hands, slipped out of her hands and fell to the ground.