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Behind Closed Doors Novel Cover

Behind Closed Doors

During a high-stakes New Year’s Eve gala, Max Davis's wife is publicly humiliated when a stranger shoves her into a pool. Instead of defending her, Max demands her silence to protect his reputation. While changing, she discovers the same woman intimately perched on Max’s lap, mocking the surgical scar on her abdomen. Max doesn't just tolerate the disrespect; he encourages the cruelty, promising to restrain his wife so his mistress can strike her again.
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Chapter 3

It was already past midnight when I returned to the hotel. Gazing out at the glittering skyline of the city's central business district, I realized I did not want to go back to where Max was.

Without hesitation, I grabbed my phone and rescheduled my flight—to a private island this time.

After treating myself to a spa session, I fell into a peaceful sleep. Max had not tried to contact me all night.

The next morning at the airport, my phone started buzzing frantically. I glanced at it once and declined the call, but he kept calling until I finally put my phone on silent.

Before long, his messages flood in.

[Max: Suri, what game are you playing now? Hide and seek?]

[Max: You're being so childish!]

[Max: Act your age—these young girl games won't make me want you; they'll just make me sick.]

[Max: Stop trying to act cute. It's disgusting, got it?]

He hurled accusations at me from his high horse, yet he did not mention a word about leaving with another woman or staying out all night. The double standards were infuriating.

Ignoring his messages, I called my lawyer and asked him to draft a divorce agreement, emphasizing the need for absolute confidentiality. Nonetheless, I knew Max would not let me go so easily.

Max and I had known each other for 12 years and married for five. We were once a young, struggling couple, living in a tiny basement apartment with no windows.

I supported him when he built his company from nothing. In those early startup days, we could barely afford food, so I worked multiple jobs to support him. My coworkers looked down on me when they saw me picking through discounted produce at the grocery store after work, but I endured the humiliation.

The first investment in Max's company came from the 'centipede' scar on my stomach.

When AI technology was just emerging, Max had a brilliant idea for a project but no investors. While we were meeting potential investors, a deranged man burst in with a knife. I shielded him and ended up stabbed in the stomach.

That incident brought Max his first round of funding—and his breakthrough.

We built the company together, celebrating every milestone, big or small. When the company went public, Max threw me a grand proposal with the help of the entire company. Every billboard in the city lit up with our love story.

He went above and beyond, hiring top lawyers and witnesses to transfer me 51% of the company shares. He swore he would never betray me and backed that promise up with money as proof.

Who could have guessed that this man, who had sworn to love and protect me forever, would change his heart so easily?

I did not believe that money alone changed men. If they could be tempted, they were weak to begin with.

When did I first suspect Max? Perhaps it was when I overheard employees talking while bringing him medicine to the office. They said Max treated Coco differently, describing their interaction that eerily mirrored how Max treated me when we first started dating.

I did not see Max or Coco that day. When he came home that night, and I asked about it, he was defensive and dismissive.

"Suri, stay out of company business. Do I need to announce every time I change assistants? Besides, she's just a recent graduate, clumsy and clueless like you were. What's there to talk about?"

Yet, something still felt off. "Did she apply for the position herself?" I asked, knowing Max's standards were too high for just anyone to make the cut.

His response was strange, and he avoided meeting my gaze. "Of course not. A client recommended her, and she's capable enough."

As I helped him unbutton his shirt that night, I tried to reason with him. "Max, some women have ulterior motives. They might be your competitor's—"

Max suddenly shoved me away and angrily threw his shirt to the floor. "Suri, only dirty minds see dirt everywhere. She's just a kid, what would she know?"

That night, for the first time in our marriage, Max slept in another room. Sitting alone in our bedroom, I knew with crushing certainty that Max had fallen in love with someone else.