Jacquelyn Spencer POV:

The private dining room at Éclat was opulent, as expected. Crystal chandeliers dripped from the ceiling, reflecting off the polished crimson walls. My best friends, Clara and Mia, were already seated, their faces alight with laughter. Fay, ever the pragmatic one, was nursing a glass of sparkling water, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Look who finally decided to join us!" Clara teased, her gaze sweeping past me to Harrison, who entered just behind me. "We thought Harrison had you locked away in a gilded cage."

"He never lets her out of his sight anymore," Mia chimed in, a playful smirk on her face. "Ever since the pregnancy news, he's become even more possessive, if that's possible."

Harrison, ever the charmer, laughed easily, taking a seat beside me. "Can you blame me? My wife is the most beautiful, brilliant woman in the world. And she's carrying my heir. I have to protect my treasures." He winked, then pulled several small, elegantly wrapped boxes from his coat pockets.

"For my favorite ladies," he announced, distributing them with a flourish.

Fay raised an eyebrow, but Clara and Mia gasped as they unwrapped their gifts. Delicate diamond necklaces, each glittering under the soft light.

"Harrison, these are… insane!" Clara breathed, her fingers tracing the intricate design. "They must cost a fortune."

"Only the best for my wife's closest friends," he replied smoothly, radiating an aura of effortless generosity. "You keep Jacquelyn happy, and I'll make sure you're well taken care of."

"You're too kind, Harrison," Mia gushed, already fastening her necklace around her throat. "Jacquelyn, you're so lucky to have him. We're lucky to know you!"

I offered them a polite smile, one that didn't quite reach my eyes. Lucky. The word tasted like ash in my mouth. He wasn't doing this for them. He was doing this for himself. To secure his image, to buy their loyalty, to ensure they continued to believe his perfect façade.

"Jacquelyn's happiness is my life," he said, his hand finding mine under the table, squeezing it possessively. The irony was so sharp, it almost made me laugh.

Clara and Mia chimed in with more praises, declaring me the luckiest woman alive. I just nodded, a hollow echo in my chest, feeling my "luck" slipping away like sand through my fingers.

Just then, the door to our private room swung open, revealing a figure silhouetted against the bright hallway lights.

Britt Bradshaw.

She stood there, a vision in a scarlet dress that clung to her curves, her blonde hair perfectly styled, her smile predatory. She looked around the room, her gaze lingering on each of us, a calculated pause before she spoke.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she purred, her voice dripping with faux innocence. "Wrong room, I suppose. I thought this was the Ellis corporate meeting." Her eyes, however, were fixed on me, a triumphant glint in their depths.

Clara and Mia exchanged uneasy glances. They knew Britt. Everyone in our social circle did, at least superficially. The air in the room instantly thickened, heavy with unspoken tension. Britt, however, seemed utterly unfazed. She simply glided into the room, a venomous snake entering a birdcage.

She settled herself into the empty chair directly opposite me at the table, crossing her legs, her gaze sweeping over the diamond necklaces still clutched in Clara and Mia's hands.

"Ah, Bijoux Étoile," she said, her voice lilting, recognizing the brand instantly. She picked up one of the empty boxes, turning it over in her manicured fingers. "Such exquisite pieces. My favorite. After all, it's my company, isn't it?"

My breath hitched. Bijoux Étoile. Harrison had invested heavily in a boutique jewelry line a few years ago. He had always said it was a smart, diversified investment. He' d even presented me with some of its designs, claiming they were the first prototypes.

"Harrison has been such a wonderful partner," Britt continued, her eyes briefly meeting his, a fleeting spark of shared conspiracy passing between them. Then her gaze snapped back to mine, her smile sharp, exposing teeth. "The best partner. He truly values my vision."

The room tilted. My chest constricted, a vice grip tightening around my lungs. The air seemed to vanish, leaving me gasping for breath, unable to move, unable to speak. The world blurred around the edges, and I felt the familiar darkness threatening to claim me once more.

Jacquelyn Spencer POV:

All those late nights. All those "urgent business trips." All his excuses about needing to focus on "new ventures" and "diversified portfolios." It wasn't about the Ellis Corporation. It was about her. He was building her empire, not ours. While I believed he was crafting our future, he was meticulously constructing hers.

A searing pain, sharp and sudden, lanced through my chest. It felt like a physical tearing, separating me from myself. I gasped, a small, choked sound.

Harrison was on his feet in an instant, his chair scraping loudly across the marble floor. "Jacquelyn! What's wrong? Are you alright?" His hands reached for me, concern etched deeply on his face. "Let me call a doctor. Right now."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Harrison," Britt sneered, her voice cutting through the tension. "She's just being dramatic. She always is."

Before I could even blink, a loud SMACK echoed through the room. Everyone flinched. Britt's head snapped to the side, a crimson mark appearing on her cheek. Harrison stood over her, his eyes blazing with a fury I had never seen directed at anyone but his fiercest business rivals.

"Don't you ever speak to my wife like that again," he snarled, his voice low and lethal, vibrating with barely contained rage. "Or I swear to God, Britt, I will make you regret the day you were born."

Britt, for once, looked genuinely stunned, then a flicker of fear crossed her face. She pushed her chair back, scrambling to her feet, and without another word, she stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her.

The silence that followed was deafening, eventually filled by the hesitant murmurs of Clara and Mia. Harrison, oblivious to everything but me, was already kneeling by my side, his hands gently cupping my face.

"Jacquelyn, my love. Are you okay? Did she hurt you? We're going to the hospital right now."

I shook my head, my body feeling strangely cold, numb. The anger, the pain, the betrayal – it had all coalesced into a chilling void within me. "No," I managed to say, my voice flat. "I just… I need to use the restroom."

He hesitated, still worried, but then nodded. "Alright. But I'm waiting right outside the door."

I nodded, grateful for the temporary reprieve, the chance to be alone for just a moment. As I stepped into the opulent hallway, turning towards the restrooms, a shadow detached itself from the wall. Britt. She was waiting.

Her cheek was still red, but her eyes held no fear, only a malicious glint. "Did you really think that meant anything?" she hissed, her voice barely a whisper, yet it felt like a scream in my ears. "A slap? He's done worse to me. So much worse. He loves me, Jacquelyn. He always has."

She stepped closer, her voice dropping, thick with venom. "He has a son with me. His true heir. My son is the only one who matters to the Ellis family. And when I call, he always comes running. Always." She smiled, a chilling, triumphant smirk. "Look how quickly he jumped to your defense. But watch how quickly he jumps for me."

I said nothing, my face a carefully constructed mask of indifference, though inside, a fresh wave of agony threatened to engulf me. I simply walked past her, entered the restroom, and locked the door.

When I returned to the table, Harrison was already on his phone, his face pale, urgency in every line of his body. He looked up the moment he saw me, his eyes wide, rushing towards me. He pressed a quick, frantic kiss to my forehead.

"My love, something urgent has come up at work," he said, his voice strained. "I have to go. Immediately."

She called. Britt had called. Just as she said she would.

"I'll be back tonight. I promise. We'll talk then. Everything." He squeezed my hand, a look of profound guilt flashing in his eyes.

"No," I whispered, my fingers tightening around his sleeve, desperate. A last, pathetic attempt to hold onto the wreckage of my life. "Please. Stay. Don't go."

His eyes met mine, and for a fleeting second, I saw it: a flicker of genuine remorse, a hesitation. He seemed to weigh the cost of leaving, the potential loss of something he still cherished.

Then, the moment passed. The urgency in his eyes hardened. "I'll be back," he repeated, his voice firm, no longer pleading. "Tonight. I promise."

He pulled his arm free from my grasp and turned, walking away from me, away from our friends, away from his "treasures." Leaving me, once again, for her.