Deal With My Best Friend

I'm Done With His Games

Eliana's POV

My hands trembled as I gazed upon the picture on the phone. My husband, Calvin Franco, was exceptionally affectionate and fed a powdered-sugar-and-blueberry pastry to the new model he hired at his company six months ago, Kylia Sinclair.

It had been more than clear to me that she was his new sidepiece.

I had known, seen the clues, caught the red flags...

But— I kept ignoring them.

Ignoring them and turning a blind eye because I thought... he loves me.

He wouldn't dare be unfaithful.

He wouldn't dare cheat on me; I am the love of his life.

No! There is no way!

Boy— was I wrong?

The notification on Kylie's Instagram came as I sat at the reception of his office, waiting for him to come out so we could leave for his mother's house and celebrate the birth of his sister's new baby.

Yes, Kylie was stupid and daring enough to send me a friend request, and I approved it.

I approved it, thinking she was a nice, friendly girl like the rest of the supermodels he had hired in the past, but she wasted no time showing her true colors.

The other girls kept trying to warn me about her. Still, I dismissed it.

I blindly approved her friend request on social media, and I'm glad I did.

It gave me plenty of evidence of his infidelity, taking snapshots after another to verify dates, events, and intimate actions between the two. But I also had the warm collection of videos, texts, and pictures she sent me privately via messages as she threw them at my face.

"He's mine, and there's nothing you can do about it," she had sent a picture the first time. Both lying on silk sheets on a weekend, he had said he needed to go out on business.

I had spent the entire night preparing his suitcase, making sure he wore the best suits to make a good impression on the investors he said he was meeting.

In reality, he did go meet new investors, but he had taken Kylie along, and they spent their first passionate night together.

I saw the marks on his neck as he tried to cover them with a scarf, excusing it as a bad cold he caught over the weekend in Japan.

Over time, she became more blunt and more daring with her messages. "You might as well divorce him, he doesn't love you," she had sent the message with a series of pictures of them together.

He was taking her to expensive restaurants and meeting our mutual friends and family. They knew... all of them... and they kept it secret from me.

"Did you see that? He bought me a ring and promised to marry me. Trust me, tramp... You won't get a single dime when I finally get him to leave you. You're nothing but a gold-digging whore, you deserve nothing, and you will get nothing; everything you have will be mine, including the man."

But the final straw was the picture from last night. She was expecting, and he was over the moon to learn he would be a dad.

"He bought me a new villa so that our new baby and I can have a better life together. Stop being selfish and leave him. Can't you see he wants a family with me?"

I gave a cold and painful laughter as tears tainted my cheeks, but inside, I was fuming with anger while he showered.

"You win. He's all yours." I sent a reply, but didn't give her time to continue her rant, turning off my phone to avoid calling her and going off on her.