The Game of Betrayal

SERENA’s hands trembled as she played the video. It showed her husband kissing another woman before pulling her into a VIP room. In another clip, he was on top of her, both of them completely naked. Serena felt like she was about to explode with rage after watching it. How many of these videos had she received from the person she hired to watch her husband? It was always the same. Every video sent to her showed her husband having s*x with different women. Everywhere her husband went—every city, every country—he always found a new woman to indulge in. Cheating seemed to be second nature to him. They had been married for three years now, yet he hadn’t changed a bit. When they were together, he played the role of a devoted husband, but the moment she wasn’t around, he was nothing more than a shameless adulterer. “This bastard is absolutely disgusting!” She threw her phone in frustration. Her husband was currently in Italy to handle business matters. He refused to take her with him, saying it was too dangerous and he didn’t want her to be put at risk. But she didn’t believe that was the real reason. She was more convinced that it was because of another woman—because if she were there, he wouldn’t be able to have s*x with any woman. “You’re a disgusting bastard, Cyrus. You said you love me, yet you can’t keep your hands off other women. I hope your d**k swells up and rots—maybe then you’ll finally learn your damn lesson,” she hissed again, her anger still burning. Frustrated, she left the mansion and went to her half-sister, Shanel's house. They shared the same father, but despite that, they got along well as sisters. “Your bastard husband was cheating on you? Again? Then just cheat on him too,” Shanel replied when she told her about her husband's affairs, despite their relationship being perfectly fine. “No, I can't do that. I'm not a cheater like him. And cheating on him won't change anything.” Shanel scoffed at her response. “Oh, come on now, dear sister. Don’t stress yourself over a worthless man. If he were my husband, I would’ve cut off his d**k, chopped his body into pieces, and fed him to the sharks.” She let out an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes. “Ugh! Men like that make my blood boil. He should be boiled alive in scorching oil.” Serena let out a deep sigh again, poured more wine into her glass, and answered her sister again. “I can't kill him, I still love him. Besides, even if I wanted him dead, it wouldn’t be that simple. I’d only be putting myself in danger, and Dad would be furious. You know how powerful he is—not to mention, he’s Dad’s favorite.” Shanel smirked. “I can kill him for you. Just say the word.” Serena chuckled at her sister's suggestion. “No need. I don't want you to put yourself at risk,” she replied before taking another sip of wine. “Oh, dear sister, you don’t know me well enough. I can kill anyone, no matter who they are.” “No, don't kill my husband.” She let out a sigh. “How about you? How have you been lately? I heard Dad is arranging your marriage with one of his business partners. Is that true?” “I need to get married for the throne,” Shanel answered with a nonchalant shrug. Serena's eyebrow arched at her sister. “So, you're actually willing to get married?” “Yes, I have to.” “Even if you don’t love the man?” Shanel chuckled. “Does love even matter? Look at you—you married for love, yet he never treated you right.” She shook her head, gently swirling her wine as she leaned back on the couch. “But if I do get married, that doesn’t mean I’ll let anyone control me. I’m a queen—I’ll do whatever I want. And if anyone dares to stand in my way, I’ll kill them.” Serena just smirked at what she heard from her sister. “Don’t tell me you’ve never experienced love? Being crazy in love with a man, like I have?” Shanel grinned and rolled her eyes. “I don’t need to lose my mind over a man. Yrem and Pietro are more than enough for me—even until I grow old.” Serena raised a brow and glanced at her sister’s right-hand man, who was seated not far from them, calmly playing the piano. Shanel preferred having soft piano music playing while they talked—it helped ensure their conversation wouldn’t be overheard by the maids lingering nearby. “I think they like you, Shanel.” “Who?” “Your bodyguards, Yrem and Pietro.” Shanel chuckled. “I like them too.” “That's not what I meant. Look, they like you romantically. But it seems like you don’t realize it because you're insensible and have never experienced love.” Shanel simply shrugged. “Let’s not talk about me. We’re here to talk about you, remember? Your problem is the reason you came. So, my advice? Give him a taste of his own medicine as revenge. Cheat on him the same way he’s been cheating on you. Make things even.” Serena's eyes widened at her sister's suggestions. “No way! I can't do that. I would never sleep with different men—it's disgusting! Eww!” Shanel chuckled once again. “Then just pick one. Every time you’re hurt, use him to make yourself feel better. Just take revenge instead of tormenting yourself with anger and jealousy over a damn husband who doesn’t even care about you.” Serena fell silent, her grip on the wine glass suddenly tightening. “B-but who would be the man I’d use?” “Whoever you want,” Shanel replied with a smirk before drinking all the wine in her glass and smirking at her again. “Just make sure it’s someone who can actually make you happy—someone who helps you forget that bastard, even for a while. Just give it a try—you never know, it might actually help your mental health. If you can’t find someone, I’ll find one for you myself. I’ll make sure you get someone decent, unlike that bastard husband of yours.” Serena fell silent. Even as she drove home, her sister's suggestion—to just find another man to be a rebound—kept lingering in her mind. When she arrived at the mansion, she saw that many cars were parked outside. It seemed that her husband had already come home. It was as if she had suddenly forgotten her anger and smiled with excitement. She hurriedly got out of her car. But when she remembered her husband's infidelity, her smile quickly faded, and she was once again filled with disappointment. "Good afternoon, Madamé!” her husband's men greeted her politely as she passed. She didn’t respond and went straight into the mansion. However, as soon as she entered, she stopped by the door and looked at the two security guards, who were both standing. “Where’s my husband?” she asked. But before they could answer, a deep, baritone voice spoke from behind her. “He's still in Italy, Madamé.” She turned toward the voice that answered and was met with the sight of a handsome man dressed in formal attire—a white long-sleeved polo shirt, sleeves neatly folded up to his elbows, without a coat but paired with a black vest and black pants. It was none other than her husband's right-hand man, Allain Chester. “Boss was expected to return home next week.”