She Begged, Then Regretted Chapter 2

She gripped my hand, her knuckles white.

"Tomorrow night, we'll set up hidden cameras in the room. But that's not enough. What if he tries something else? It could all go wrong."

"Cole, I need you to hide in the closet."

I lifted my eyes to meet hers. "You want me to hide in the closet?"

"Yes. You'll get there first with a key card and hide inside." She spoke faster now, a manic gleam in her eyes. "The hotel closets have louvered doors. You'll be able to breathe, and you'll see everything."

"You can record it all on your phone. It'll be ironclad proof. The second you have footage of him laying a hand on me, you burst out and we catch him in the act!"

"Please, Cole." She buried her face in my lap. "It's the only way to save me. Please!"

The air grew thick and still. I looked down at my wife, kneeling at my feet.

It was the perfect script. The victimized starlet, the monstrous director, and the husband forced to swallow his pride to protect his wife.

If it hadn't been for the phone call I'd overheard three days ago, the performance would have been flawless.

She had gone to "discuss the script" with Vance that day and came back reeking of smoke. I have a thing about cleanliness, so I went to her car to place some charcoal air fresheners. The moment I got in, the car's Bluetooth connected to her phone and automatically played her most recent call recording, a feature she'd set up to keep track of conversations with her agent.

"Vance, darling, this new script is so thrilling. But what if that stiff of a husband of mine won't play along?"

A man's greasy laugh. "Oh, he'll watch. A pathetic weakling like that? You just have to cry a little, and he'll do anything you say."

"Imagine him, stuck in the closet, watching us… Tsk, the thought of it… Tell me, my famous Stella, doesn't that excite you?"

"Stop it! Although… it does sound kind of hot. Having him watch with his own two eyes…"

The rest of her words were lost in a series of suggestive moans.

Her voice pulled me back from the memory. I looked at the woman at my feet, still giving the performance of her life. I wasn't angry anymore. It was almost laughable. I, a medical examiner with a promising career, had given it all up for her, only to be treated like this.

"Alright," I said slowly. "If this is what it takes to help you, I'll do it."

Stella's head shot up, a triumphant smile she couldn't suppress spreading across her lips. She threw her arms around me and planted a wet kiss on my cheek. The sickening smell washed over me again.

I forced myself to return the embrace, resting my chin on the top of her head. My eyes fell on the large floor-to-ceiling mirror across the room.

The man reflected in it was me, but his face was a blank, emotionless mask.

If you want to act, then I'll put on a real show for you.

But this play won't end according to your script.

"Go take a shower," I said, gently patting her back. "I've already run the water. Wash it all away."

Stella nodded meekly and headed to the bathroom. The moment the door clicked shut, the warmth vanished from my face. I walked to the entryway where she'd left her phone, screen-down. It was still on an active call. The screen read: "Vance."

I didn't hang up. I just placed it back down as if I'd seen nothing.

After her shower, Stella walked into the bedroom.

"Honey, Vance just called. He wants to have dinner with us tomorrow. Can you make it?" she said, feigning annoyance. "I have no idea what he's planning now, it's so frustrating…"

But I could see the glint of anticipation deep in her eyes.

I nodded. "I'll go. Let's see what he has to say."