Between Love And Revenge

Cleo woke to the metallic tang of blood in the air and the blinding beam of light aimed directly at her face. She squinted, disoriented, as a shadowy figure loomed over her.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I had no idea you were still here," came a familiar voice.

As her vision cleared, she realized it was Sophie, her assistant, standing nervously by her desk.

"Oh my God, ma'am, your nose is bleeding again," Sophie exclaimed, panic lacing her words.

Cleo groaned softly and reached for the napkin sitting nearby. She dabbed at the blood with slow, deliberate movements, her exhaustion evident.

"Is my husband home yet?" Cleo asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"No, ma'am," Sophie replied hesitantly.

Cleo wasn't surprised. She had grown accustomed to Ethan's absences. Married for five years, their relationship had started as a whirlwind romance. Ethan had been everything she dreamed of-attentive, loving, and ambitious. But ever since his promotion two years ago, he had become a different man: distant, impatient, and consumed by his work.

"I'm fine, Sophie. You can leave me now," Cleo said, forcing a weak smile.

Sophie hesitated, worry etched across her face, but she eventually nodded. "Alright, ma'am. Let me know if you need anything."

Cleo waited until Sophie was gone before standing from the desk. She moved unsteadily toward the bathroom cabinet, where she kept her medication. The sight of her reflection in the mirror made her pause. Pale skin, hollow eyes, and faint bruising beneath her nose-it was a stark reminder of her condition. Hemophilia had ruled her life for as long as she could remember, and the constant nosebleeds were only one of its many burdens.

After swallowing the prescribed pills, she crawled back into bed, exhaustion pulling her under.

---

Sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the room. Cleo blinked awake, immediately checking her pillow for bloodstains. To her relief, there were none.

As she stretched, the sound of movement caught her attention. Frowning, she turned toward the closet. Who could it be? She padded softly across the room and peeked inside.

"Ethan?" she said in surprise.

Her husband stood there, buttoning his shirt, seemingly unaware of her presence. Cleo smiled and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "Good morning, my love."

Ethan stiffened at her touch and gently pulled away. "Have you secured the deal with the Mablethorpe company yet?" he asked without turning to face her.

Cleo's smile faltered. "Not yet," she admitted.

Ethan stepped out of the closet, his expression unreadable. "I need that deal finalized today," he said firmly, brushing past her and heading downstairs.

Cleo followed him, her heart sinking with every step. "I've been working on it, Ethan. I stayed up all night analyzing the contract, looking for potential loopholes-"

"There are no loopholes!" Ethan snapped, cutting her off. His voice was sharp, and it echoed in the quiet hallway. "Stop wasting time and just do what I tell you to do."

Cleo froze, biting back a retort. She wanted to tell him she was only being cautious, that she didn't want his company to face any liabilities. But her words felt futile in the face of his growing impatience.

By the time they reached the driveway, Ethan's driver was already holding the car door open. Ethan turned to her briefly. "Set up a meeting with Mablethorpe today and get me that deal," he said before sliding into the car.

The driver shut the door, got into the driver's seat, and drove off, leaving Cleo standing alone.

She exhaled shakily and turned back toward the house. "Sophie," she called as she walked through the front door, "please tell the chef to make me breakfast."

"Yes, ma'am," Sophie replied from the kitchen.

Cleo climbed the stairs back to her room, the weight of her emotions finally breaking through. She sank onto the bed, silent tears spilling down her cheeks. She couldn't remember the last time Ethan had truly looked at her-or the last time she had felt like a priority in his life.

But Cleo was nothing if not resilient. After a few minutes, she wiped her tears, squared her shoulders, and stood. She approached the desk, gathering the contract documents and placing them neatly into her bag. Then she picked out an outfit, showered, and dressed, the motions mechanical yet purposeful.

As she descended the stairs, Sophie was already waiting by the dining table.

"Ma'am, the car is ready," Sophie informed her.

Cleo nodded and sat down for a quick breakfast. Her mind was racing as she considered her next move. Securing the Mablethorpe deal might please Ethan for the moment, but deep down, Cleo knew it wouldn't solve the growing rift between them-or the ache in her heart.

She finished her meal, stood, and grabbed her bag. "Let's go," she said to Sophie, her voice steady.

Sophie followed as Cleo stepped outside, determination etched across her face. Whatever challenges lay ahead, Cleo was prepared to face them-on her own terms.