My Husband Sent His Best Friend to Trap Me

The venom in Julian’s scheme wasn't entirely new.

Standing in the dim hallway outside his study, my pulse steadied into a cold rhythm. I knew exactly when he had planted the seed for this betrayal.

Three weeks ago.

I had found his secret credit card statement zipped inside the front pocket of his golf bag. Thousands of dollars bled out to Cartier and bespoke lingerie boutiques. I didn't own a single piece of silk from those stores.

Shattered and suffocating under the weight of his lies, I had done something entirely out of character. I fled to a poorly lit hotel bar downtown.

I sat on a sticky leather stool, ordering dry martinis until the room spun into a blur of shadows and nausea.

"You look like you need company," a greasy voice slurred.

A guy in a cheap gray suit slid onto the empty stool next to me. His buddy boxed me in on my right.

"I'm fine," I muttered, staring at the olive at the bottom of my glass.

"Come on, sweetheart. Nobody drinks martinis alone unless they're celebrating or mourning." The buddy reached out, his thick fingers grazing my forearm.

I yanked my arm back. "Don't touch me."

"We're just being friendly."

"Back off."

"She said back off." The voice cut through the heavy bass of the bar music like a steel blade.

I blinked through the haze.

Cole Walker stood directly behind the two men. Towering at six-foot-three, his broad shoulders were carved from years of varsity rowing and military discipline. He wore a dark wool overcoat, his posture rigid and uncompromising.

"Who the hell are you?" the first guy sneered, puffing out his chest.

Cole didn't flinch. "The guy who's going to break your jaw if you don't step away from her. Now."

"It's a free country, pal."

Cole stepped into the man's personal space. "Five seconds. Then I put you through that mirror."

"You're crazy."

"Four."

"Fine, we're leaving." The two men exchanged a nervous glance before backing away and disappearing into the crowd.

Cole turned his attention to me. His rough voice softened with genuine concern. "Elena? What the hell are you doing here alone?"

"Having a drink, Cole."

"You're shaking." He stripped off his heavy overcoat and wrapped it around my shivering frame. The fabric smelled like cedar and rain. "Let's go."

"I don't want to go home."

"You're not staying here."

He wrapped an arm around my waist, supporting my weight as my knees threatened to buckle. He guided me out into the pouring rain, lifting me effortlessly into the passenger seat of his truck.

The engine roared to life. Rain battered the windshield.

"Where is Julian?" Cole asked, keeping his eyes fixed on the wet road.

"Working late." I let out a bitter, alcohol-laced laugh. "Always working late."

Cole's jaw tightened. "Did you two fight?"

"No. We don't fight. We just... exist." I leaned my heavy head against the cold glass. "Do you think I'm boring, Cole?"

"No, Elena. I don't."

"Julian does. He buys diamonds for someone else."

Cole slammed on the brakes at a red light. He stared at me, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. "What did you say?"

"Nothing. Just drive."

"Did he hurt you?"

"He doesn't have to hit me to break me," I whispered.

"Elena, look at me."

I refused to turn my head.

"If he laid a hand on you, I will ruin him," Cole stated, his voice devoid of any bluff.

"He didn't. He just lied."

Cole didn't ask another question. He drove the rest of the way in silence, the tension rolling off him in waves.

When we reached the penthouse, he didn't hand me over to the doorman. He carried me upstairs himself. He bypassed the master bedroom entirely, settling me gently onto the mattress in the guest room.

He didn't cross the threshold. He kept his distance with absolute respect.

"Water and aspirin are on the nightstand," he said from the doorway.

"Thank you."

"Lock the door, Elena. I'll sleep on the couch."

I passed out before I could answer.

The next morning, I woke up to the sharp sound of voices in the kitchen.

My head throbbed. I crept down the hallway, stopping just out of sight behind the marble island.

"You're up early," Julian said. He had just walked through the front door, his tie loosened, his suit wrinkled.

"I stayed the night," Cole replied. The espresso machine hissed behind him.

Julian stopped dead in his tracks. "Excuse me?"

"I found Elena at a hotel bar downtown. Two guys were harassing her. She was in no condition to get a cab."

"So you brought my wife home and slept on my sofa."

"Someone had to make sure she was safe, Julian. Where were you?"

"I had a late meeting."

"At three in the morning?" Cole challenged, his tone dropping an octave.

"My schedule is none of your concern."

"Your wife's safety should be."

Julian didn't apologize. He didn't thank his friend. I watched from the shadows as Julian studied Cole. His eyes traced the protective tension in Cole's posture, the defensive set of his shoulders.

Julian didn't look angry. He looked calculating.

"I appreciate you looking out for her," Julian said smoothly, his tone entirely shifting. "She's been fragile lately."

"She needs her husband."

"She needs stability. And you, Cole? How is the tech firm? That balloon payment is coming up."

Cole stiffened. "I'll manage it."

"I know you will. I'm glad we have this kind of trust."

"Trust goes both ways, Julian," Cole warned.

"Of course it does. I trust you with my money. I trust you with my home. I even trust you with my wife."

Julian’s eyes gleamed with raw, predatory greed.

That was the exact moment his twisted plot had been born.

He hadn't seen a loyal friend saving his vulnerable wife. He had seen a weapon. He recognized Cole’s innate protective instinct toward me, and he immediately figured out how to monetize it.

Standing here now, outside the study door, the pieces locked perfectly into place.

Julian thought he held all the cards. He thought Cole’s financial desperation and my supposed naivety guaranteed his victory at the lake house next weekend.

I smoothed my hands down the front of my cashmere sweater.

Cole Walker was a good man trapped in Julian's financial chokehold. He had protected me when I was defenseless.

If Julian wanted to force Cole to seduce me on camera, he was underestimating both of us.

I walked quietly toward the master bedroom, my mind racing with new possibilities.

Julian wanted to stage an affair?

I would give him a show he would never forget.