The Ex-Wife's Deal with the Devil

"Cut! Cut! Hey, I said cut!"

The director yelled repeatedly but Liam was so immersed in a steamy kiss with his leading lady, Anne Moore, that I – Liam's assistant – was instructed to separate them.

Tapping my husband's shoulder to stop him from making out with a younger woman was something I... already expected. This is for the better. The sooner my husband climbs to the top of this industry, the sooner he can reveal our secret marriage to the world.

"Sir Liam, the scene has already ended." My voice almost cracked, especially when I saw his hand groping one of Anne's voluptuous breasts. I instantly flickered my gaze away, repeating a chant in my mind: 'This is his work, this is part of his job. Calm down Kerri.'

Finally, they pulled their faces away from each other. Both of them were gasping for air, staring intently into one another's gazes, completely dismissing my presence behind them.

"Good God, get a room, you two!" the director said, jokingly.

Both of them turned their heads towards the director, and the shock on their faces showed that they completely forgot that dozens of people were watching them.

"Oops! Sorry, we were so immersed in our..." Anne paused to glance back at Liam seductively, giving him a grin, "...roles." She pushed herself off of the bed and brushed her tight skirt that gave little to no imagination of what her curves looked like. Once again, giving Liam a quick sexy smirk before walking off of the set towards her stylist for a retouch.

Liam stood up from the bed, almost bumping into me, so I stepped to the side, preferably the farthest corner of the studio, away from the spotlight, just as Liam wanted me to do, because this was his moment.

The director watched the final shot from the camera screen. His face was stern. Even I, who was at the other end of the studio, could see his brows furrowing, but after a while, a satisfied expression grew on his face along with an approving nod.

"Good job, that's a wrap, everybody!"

Finally, the half-year-long filming of Liam's new action movie has ended.

A round of applause filled the room. Everyone worked hard for this project, especially my husband, who stayed countless nights here in the studio to work with Anne.

He was clapping the loudest, so all eyes turned to him, and he loved it.

He loves being the center of the attention. It is one of his perks that I liked about him, so seeing him being surrounded by people who adore his talent makes me smile.

"Nice work everyone, dinners on me!" Liam announced, turning my smile upside down.

Everyone rejoiced, everyone except me – who is aware that he doesn't have an allotted budget to pay for the dinner of an entire filming crew, not to mention that all the restaurants around the area were all overly expensive.

Pushing my glasses up my nosebridge, I called, "Sir Liam–" I tried to pull him to the side, but he refused, yanking my hand away.

"Not now, Kerri." He hissed at me discreetly, before looking back at everyone to flash a bright smile at them.

I waited in the corner again, clutching onto my iPad that showed his schedule for today, because once again, he impulsively announced something even though he had an interview booked later.

Now, I have to reschedule and face the reporters' disdain for making them waste their time, but I have to endure.

This is for us.

"Isn't she coming with us?" Anne Moore spoke to Liam after seeing me at the corner. She must have recognized me for being the girl who was always tailing behind Liam.

I pretended I wasn't hearing their conversation, making it look like I was occupied with rearranging the schedules, but I could feel Liam's burning look pressing on my shoulders before speaking. "No, she has other things to do," Liam's voice always sounded nice when speaking with Anne, soft and alluring.

I slightly looked up and caught Anne's pitiful gaze directed at me, "She must be hungry, that poor girl." The way she talks about me makes me feel like a dog, a pet to be brought along with a leash. "Who is she anyway?" She added, her curious gaze burning at my face.

What irks me the most is that I have been following Liam around for the entire six months of filming, but this is the first time she has noticed my presence. I know I am a wallflower but isn't it human decency to remember a person you're working with?

I expected Liam to defend me, but all I heard was their footsteps leaving the studio. I look up and see his hand behind Anne's back, dangerously close to her ass while her head was leaning lovingly against his shoulder.

I heard him answer her question before they left through the door, determined to leave me behind.

"She is just my assistant,"

I bit down the bubbling emotions in my chest after being denied like that. But it doesn't matter, laugh all you want, Anne Moore, someday soon, my Liam Tate would introduce me to the world as his wife who helped him get to where he is now.

He is the 27-year-old actor who blew away studio executives and producers with his stunning visuals, making waves with his acting skills and charming playboy personality.

And I, Kerri Coleman, is the one working behind the scenes to ensure this success.

Our secret that only the two of us share was a condition I wholeheartedly accepted, believing that an available actor would gain more popularity than a married one, and it was effective. My husband rose to fame almost immediately as piles of adoring fans found out he had no partner in life, deluded in their own story that they had a chance to bag a hottie playboy like him if they kept supporting his career.

But now that Liam had already made a name for himself thanks to my hard work and PR management, I know that any day now he would finally reveal our marriage so we could stop hiding the truth, so I could finally join them in their after-parties not as his assistant, but as his wife.

"Kerri, you can do this." I mumbled to myself after being left alone again, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the large mirror at the corner of the wall.

My hair was all over the place from running here and there to do some errands for Liam. It looked dull and lifeless, and the dark circles under my eyes became more prominent after staying up all night working for him.

It seems that taking care of Liam's career is making me forget to take care of myself...

But I know this will pay off soon.

With determination coursing through my veins, I dialed a number on my phone and waited for an answer before speaking in my forced cheery tone.

Just as I expected, they were furious about the change and began screaming at me on the phone. I understand their frustration. They flew all the way here just to exclusively get Liam's story of his rise to fame, but it got canceled out of nowhere.

The call ended with them agreeing to move the interview to tomorrow morning after I offered to pay for their hotel and food, I exhaled loudly and pinched the bridge of my nose to relieve my headache.

I looked one last time at my reflection and ran my fingers through my hair to at least make myself look presentable before heading out, but as I pulled my fingers away I noticed a considerable amount of hair strands falling off then I felt something hot running from my nose... blood.

My nose was bleeding.

"Oh no," I panicked and rushed towards the restroom to wash it off.

I can't afford to get sick right now. I still have to prepare his outfit for tomorrow.

Coincidentally, as I slammed the doors open, I heard Anne's shriek from the loud noise and we both looked at each other, surprised.

"I thought you'd be at the celebratory dinner?" I asked, still covering my nose with my hands.

Her initial shocked expression turned sweet, and she looked back in the mirror to continue what she was doing – which was fixing her make-up. "Oh, I had other plans,"

I moved and stood beside her, which was a painful slap on the face, since looking at both of our reflections, the obvious contrast was there. Anne Moore was a stunning visual, and me standing next to her made me look like a blob who has disproportionate facial features.

I turned the faucet on to let the water run, cleaning my nose in the process, but I heard her make an annoyed sound but spoke kindly to me.

"My stuff is getting wet," she was referring to her purse on top of the sink. Her make-up products, phone and wallet were strewn clumsily everywhere.

"Oh, sorry." I meekly replied, taking a tissue paper instead to dab it on her things but coincidentally, her phone lit up and Liam's name popped along with a text message.

[room 625 <3]

At first, I wasn't sure whether it was really Liam since he rarely uses the heart emoji, and I had never seen him use that when messaging me, but the name was big and clear on the screen: Liam Tate.

The message obviously made me jolt in shock, so Anne and I locked gazes.

Through her eyes, she must have been wondering why Liam's assistant was this stunned seeing a text message from him when I should have known about the rumors circling his career.

For one, yes, I know about the rumors of him being an absolute playboy who sleeps with every woman he works with.

And second, I was the one who spread those rumors to boost his exposure.

Third, it was supposed to stay only as a rumor.

Anne's teasing voice tore me away from my spiraling thoughts, and I was brought back to reality where my husband, my secret husband, had sent a message about a hotel room to the most desirable young actress.

"Since you're such a good little assistant, I'll tell you a little secret." She gathered all her stuff and prepared to step out, she leaned in to whisper before leaving. "Your boss gives me lots of love,"

The click of her heels echoing in the empty hallway lingered for a few minutes until the deafening silence weighed on my shoulders.

No. I shouldn't think badly about Liam. He loves me. He loves me so much. He worked hard so we could announce our marriage to the world. He has been spending countless nights away from our home on this project.

My thoughts were racing so much that I did not realize I had eventually found myself standing in front of a door, with the bold number plastered on it that says '625'.

I blankly pushed it open, and my ears were immediately filled with the sound of a loud creaking bed, along with Anne's light chuckles that eventually turned into moans of pleasure.

My body moved on its own and walked further inside. My feet faltered, but my wildly beating heart refused to let me stop.

I told myself, despite the sounds I was hearing, that maybe this was another one of his actors' moments, maybe they were doing a scene, or maybe this was just another marketing stunt.

But what I saw next couldn't be justified.

My husband. Liam Tate. The man I sacrificed everything for, was fucking another woman's brains out.

His gaze flicked up and noticed me. For a moment he was surprised to see a person had walked inside their hotel room, but his mind had probably registered that it was me – his wife.

"What are you doing here?!" he yelled.

It sounded like he was angrier at the fact that I interrupted their moment rather than getting caught.

Anne followed his burning gaze and saw me. "Oh, your assistant is here," her voice was dripping with sweetness, but to me, it was sharp enough to cut me open.

I kept my gaze locked on Liam, tears flowing endlessly from my eyes.

'No, Liam, tell her she's wrong. Tell her I am your wife, and that you're sorry for betraying me. Tell me you'll do better next time. Ask for my forgiveness so you won't lose me from your life.'

But his silence was enough to push myself to speak despite constantly being told never to do so.

I have nothing to lose, so I said the words I was dying to say out loud since the moment we signed those marriage certificates.

"I am his wife," the words ripped out of my throat louder than I intended.

Anne froze, then came her sweet laughter at the nonsense I blurted out. "Is this a prank? Is there a hidden camera somewhere?"

"Tell her, Liam. Tell her the truth!" I demanded, but he just kept his threatening glare at me, but when he turned to look at Anne clinging to his side, his gaze softened and spoke to her, completely dismissing my pleas.

"Starting tonight, she's no one to me."