Laura's vision blurred, the weight of exhaustion and suppressed anger clouding her thoughts. She leaned back against the soft car seat, her hand gripping her phone tightly as it vibrated against her palm. The unexpected noise shattered the heavy silence, pulling her from the fog of her mind.

Her phone screen lit up with Olivia's name. Accompanying it was a file—a scanned pregnancy report. Beneath it, a series of messages began to flood in, each one more venomous than the last.

[He said you're obsessed with your research. You've bored him. After all this time, he's lost all interest.]

[He doesn't like using protection. He told me that if I got pregnant, I should just keep the baby. After all, he can afford it.]

[Laura, you're nothing. What's the point of holding onto the idea of being his fiancée?]

The words seared into Laura's mind like acid. For a moment, her grip on the phone faltered, her knuckles whitening as a flood of emotions—rage, disbelief, despair—threatened to consume her. Yet, as quickly as they came, she forced them back down.

She couldn't let Olivia win.

Laura inhaled deeply, letting the air fill her lungs before exhaling in a slow, measured breath. Her brows furrowed slightly, but she carefully composed herself, her lips curving into a faint, almost amused smile.

'Such blatant provocation,' she thought, her heart cold. 'Olivia must be growing desperate.'

"What's making you smile so happily, Laura?"

Hector's voice startled her, soft and brimming with faux concern as he drove the car. His sharp eyes scanned her expression, trying to decipher her mood.

Laura shook her head lightly, masking her emotions beneath a calm facade. "Oh, it's nothing. I completely forgot I promised to treat Amber to dinner. She's not too happy with me now."

Hector's body visibly relaxed at her explanation, his lips curling into a small, indulgent smile. His left hand reached out to take her hand gently in his.

"Will you be going now? Should I come with you?" His tone carried a touch of eagerness, though his eyes betrayed his impatience.

Laura tilted her head, her expression serene. "Of course, I have to go. Amber won't let me off the hook otherwise. You should focus on your work—no need to accompany me."

Feigning a pout, Hector's voice dropped to a lower register. "I'm getting seriously jealous of Amber. You always give her so much attention. I was hoping we could have a little time to ourselves tonight."

A soft chuckle escaped Laura's lips, her tone light. "There'll be time later."

"Exactly," Hector said with a boyish grin. "We're in this for life. I'll let Amber have this round."

Laura watched as Hector turned the car toward the café, his demeanor as easygoing and affectionate as ever. She smiled faintly, but her gaze was distant, her thoughts a whirlwind of bitterness and resolve.

When Hector finally dropped her off and sped away, Laura's mask slipped. Her calm demeanor shattered as she stepped into the café, her hands trembling as she ordered a coffee and found a quiet corner to sit in.

Half an hour later, her phone buzzed again.

[Did he ditch you again? Hector always said he couldn't bear to see me cry. He'd drop everything just to be with me.]

[Such a pity that the doctor said no sex during my first trimester. Hector spoiled me with the most beautiful lingerie. It's a shame no one's getting to appreciate it.]

[You know how he is... always so... insatiable. I bet he's absolutely miserable without... my touch.]

Laura stared at the messages, her fingers trembling as she captured screenshots of every word. She didn't reply, didn't dignify Olivia's taunts with a response. Her heart ached, not from the betrayal but from the clarity that came with it.

'So, this is the truth,' she thought bitterly. 'All this time, I thought restraint was love. But it was nothing more than a facade—a leash Hector used to keep me in check.'

Laura spent the afternoon in the café, sipping her coffee slowly as she watched the world move on around her. For the first time in a long while, she savored the peace of an ordinary day. No lies, no games, no exhausting charades.

But her phone buzzed again, this time with a notification that made her stomach drop.

It was an announcement from the university.

Her heart pounded as she read the headline: [Olivia Reynolds Promoted to Associate Professor Ahead of Schedule.]

Laura's breath hitched as she scrolled down. Her paper—the one she had poured months of meticulous research into—was listed under Olivia's name as part of her academic achievements.

Shock and fury surged through her like a tidal wave. Her hands shook violently as she dialed Hector's number. The line rang once, twice, then clicked to voicemail. She tried again, but each attempt ended with the same cold, automated tone.

Frustration clawed at her chest, her vision blurring as she stumbled out of the café, her legs carrying her toward the villa in a daze.

When she arrived, another message from Olivia awaited her.

This time, it was a photo.

The image showed a lively research group dinner, the students gathered around Hector and Olivia. Hector had his arm casually draped over Olivia's shoulder, the two looking disturbingly intimate, their smiles bright under the banner that hung above them.

[Happy Birthday to Our Beloved Professor Olivia from the Computer Science Department.]

Tears burned at the corners of Laura's eyes as she stared at the picture. Then came a voice recording.

Hector's voice rang out clearly, smooth and warm as he praised Olivia's paper. "It's brilliant work. The reviewers were incredibly impressed. It's no wonder they're calling it groundbreaking."

For a moment, Laura stood there, frozen, her chest heaving with a storm of emotions she could no longer contain. Tears fell silently as her fists clenched at her sides. In that moment, standing alone in the quiet villa, she knew one thing for certain: there was no turning back now.

The recording continued to play in Laura’s trembling hands, each word slicing deeper into her heart.

"Hector and Olivia together... it just seems right, doesn't it?" a colleague said, with a knowing look. "It's like they're picking up where they left off. They really are a perfect match."

The room in the recording erupted with laughter, the kind of easy camaraderie that left Laura feeling like an outsider in her own life.

Hector’s voice rang out next, firm and encouraging. “Everyone, put your heart into your research, just as Olivia has. I guarantee that when our robotics project launches, your contributions will be recognized—your names will be featured prominently. With my family's network, we'll attract top-tier investment. This is your opportunity to shape your future!”

Laura’s hand clutched her phone so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The bitterness in her chest swelled until it felt too large to contain. She let out a strangled laugh, bitter tears streaming down her face.

Her project—her sleepless nights, her meticulous work—had become a stepping stone for their careers. She had been discarded, her contributions erased like they were inconsequential. Was she so irrelevant that even her team had excluded her? Did they all know about Hector and Olivia?

The betrayal was suffocating.

Late that night, Hector returned home, reeking of alcohol. The sound of his footsteps echoed in the stillness of the villa as he stumbled through the front door. He flicked on the lights, pausing when he saw Laura curled up on the couch.

“Laura?” His tone softened, laced with concern as he staggered closer. “Why are you sitting here alone in the dark? Aren’t you cold?”

His voice, the false tenderness of it, was the last straw.

Laura’s lips parted, and her words spilled out, trembling with emotion. “Don’t pretend to care, Hector.” Her voice cracked, but she pressed on, the storm inside her finally breaking free. “Why did my paper become hers? Do you have any idea how much I sacrificed for that paper? Do you know it’s the last requirement for my Ph.D. application abroad? What right do you have to make decisions for me, to dictate my life?”

Her voice grew louder with each sentence, rising into a shout by the time she finished. Her chest heaved and her face was streaked with tears, her raw anguish laid bare.

Hector froze, visibly taken aback. This was a side of Laura he had never seen before. For the first time, an uneasy sense of guilt flickered in his expression.

“Laura,” he began cautiously, his tone low and placating. “Olivia has been in a bad place emotionally. The school counselor said she’s showing signs of early depression. The administration asked me to look after her mental health. She came to my office the other day, crying, begging me for help.”

Laura stared at him in disbelief, her arms crossed tightly as if trying to hold herself together.

“She’s about to hit her five-year mark at the school,” Hector continued, his voice growing defensive. “If she doesn’t get promoted to associate professor, she’ll lose her position. She was my classmate, Laura. I couldn’t just stand by and watch her career end.”

“And what about me?” Laura’s voice was sharp, trembling with rage. “What about my career? My future? Or do those mean nothing to you?”

“You’re exceptional,” Hector said, trying to placate her. “And still young. With your ability, I’m sure you can write another paper of the same quality in no time. Besides...”

He hesitated for a moment before continuing, his tone softening. “Munich is so far away. I can’t bear to let you go. We’re about to get married. Wouldn’t it be better for you to pursue your Ph.D. here, at our school?”

The room fell silent except for Laura’s ragged breathing. Hector’s voice, once comforting, now felt like nails scraping against her soul.

She didn’t respond. Her tears dried as the numbness set in. Her heart was a hollow shell, shattered beyond repair.

***

A week before their wedding, Hector threw an extravagant bachelor party. He spared no expense, personally overseeing every detail of the event as if to prove his commitment to their future.

Laura, however, felt like a puppet, her strings pulled by Hector’s meticulous plans. The party was suffocating, a gilded cage disguised as celebration.

“Laura, you look stunning today,” Hector whispered as he stood behind her in the dressing room.

His arms wrapped around her waist gently, as though she were made of glass. He gazed at her reflection in the mirror, his eyes trailing over her pale but ethereal beauty. Laura’s makeup was flawless, her gown draped elegantly over her figure, yet her eyes were lifeless.

Hector’s voice softened, carrying a note of hesitation. “You know I love you, right?”