Claimed by my husband's son

NADIA

I sat in the middle of the bed, surrounded by soft pillows, my gaze fixed on the man standing still in front of me.

I felt stupid.

My eyes darted back and forth, waiting for him to react to what I said.

My heart thumped hard against my chest, fingers playing with the sides of my nightgown.

With each second that passed by, I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.

Elias finally looked up, and I didn't dare breathe, eagerness gushed through my veins as I held his nonchalant gaze.

His piercing eyes drifted down my body, almost as if he could see…well he could. The see-through lingerie set I bought barely hid anything from him.

I noticed the dent in his trousers and consoled myself.

Looks like the suggestions other wives gave me, albeit condescendingly, were working.

He tucked one hand in his pocket and gestured with the other that still held his phone. “Go on. Touch yourself.”

I turned red.

“I…I want you to touch me.” I whispered, almost cringing from the words escaping my lips. I couldn't believe that I'd reduced myself to this…

Shameless. Desperate.

When I looked back at Elias, his gaze was still the same. Blank. Emotionless.

He sighed, running his fingers through his silver grey hair, his biceps flexing in the process and I throbbed down there.

For a sixty year old man, my husband didn't look a day over 40. He was fit, unlike other men his age, thanks to his diet and never skipping the gym. His looks and money earned him women that flocked about him like birds in water…

And Elias never lacked a woman in his bed. There was always someone. Someone older, someone with more experience, someone with the caliber to fit into his lifestyle. While I, his wife, rotted in our matrimonial bed.

Was I attracted to Elias? No. Not even right now.

But I needed him…there was only so much loneliness a woman could take.

“Elias?” I called out.

“Hm,” he responded vaguely, his attention back to the phone he was holding.

I glared at the phone and without thinking, I lunged for him and made to grab it.

He moved and I accidentally smacked it right out of his hands, sending it crashing to the floor.

I gasped, meeting his narrowed, burning gaze. “I'm so…” The words died in my throat as my eyes fell on the picture displayed on the phone screen.

Obscene pictures of Chloe in a position I never even imagined possible.

I got out of bed, and walked towards the phone, slowly picking it up and staring at the nude image.

Curiousity got the better of me, and I scrolled to find many, many more.

“Give me that.” He snatched it from my hand. I remained frozen for a few seconds, before glancing at his trousers.

So that was the reason for the thick protruding bulge.

“I can't…I thought you'd broken up with her.”

“I'm not—” He paused, “It's not what you think.”

“Oh please.” I chuckled, “Is it normal now for CEOs to have nude pictures of their secretary on their phones whilst spotting a large boner in the presence of their wife who happened to be begging for sex upon their arrival?”

He glanced at his hardness and looked back at me, not even bothering to fix it. “You're overthinking this.”

The actual nerve of this man to try and gaslight me!

Elias was a philanderer, a womanizer—although he tried to hide it, he failed woefully.

I still feel humiliated whenever I remember how I tried to stop him when we first got married.

I gave up quickly, thank God for that, but after one month, he was on to the next sweet thing with pretty long legs.

Not with Chloe though. This affair has been going on for what, three months?

“Do you want me to fuck you or what?” He frowned slightly and I almost puked at the image that conjured up in my head.

“No. No thank you. Let's put a raincheck on that.” Maybe it's time to construct a sex timetable.

Shame clawed at me as I crawled my way back to bed, laid on it and covered my body with the duvet.

Elias didn't apologize, he didn't even say a word. Just shuffled around the room noisily.

After what felt like eternity, the bed dipped and his snore quickly filled the air.

I, on the other hand, couldn't sleep. My mind raced with annoying thoughts, I kept tossing and turning.

I flung the duvet off me and shrugged off my silky robe. Punched my pillow a couple of times, glared at Elias and imagined one hundred and fifty ways I should kill him before I finally drifted to sleep.

***

I shot up, eyes open, heart racing in my rib cage as I listened for it again.

What was that? Am I dreaming?

The bedroom was darker than my husband’s soul, the night was filled with silence and I almost thought I was imagining it when the noise came again.

Shuffling. Footsteps. Cutleries jiggling.

My heart shot to the roof.

There's a thief in my house!

My eyes darted left and right, my fingers shook as I reached for Elias

“Elias!” I whisper-yelled, shaking him gently, “Elias!!”

He didn't budge! The man slept like a log.

I gulped, my eyes darting to the door, my breathing going faster and faster as my heart pounded in my ears.

Now I was regretting sending the workers home for the weekend. If only they were here…someone would have helped.

My legs trembled as they touched the floor. I instinctively reached for the vase on the bedside table and tiptoed to the front door.

I quietly slipped out of the room, clutching the vase tighter. I didn't need . I could handle the thief myself.

I just have to smash the vase really hard on his head…like they do in the movies.

I reached the stairs and saw light illuminating from the kitchen.

Stealthily, I moved towards the kitchen, walked in, ready to smash the vase on his head…except no one was there.

What!

My hand lowered to my side and I stared at the empty kitchen. Was I—

A hand shot out in my peripheral vision and my stomach dropped.

Before I could scream, his hand clamped over my mouth, smothering the sound, and in my struggle, I dropped the vase, the sound of ceramic crashing filled the air and I fought with everything I had.

He didn't let go. The knife glinted in the light, my life flashed before my eyes as the sharp blade descended.