My Husband's Deadly Double Life

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e had been defined by Augustus Clark. Not just my personal life, but my professional one too. The public image of "Chloe O'Connor-Clark," the power couple, the brilliant analyst

g, your talents are better suited to something more... visible. Something that complements Augustus's standing." And Augustus himself, in those early, intoxicating days, had played the supportiv

p ratings, respected analysis, a household name. I reached the pinnacle, a financial news anchor whose word could move mar

edictions seem a little off. Then they escalated. Today's debacle was no accident; it was a deliberate, brutal assassination of my professional credibility. All

hurt in my eyes. "What? You think I'm cheating on you?" he'd scoffed, pulling Baylee closer. "Darling, I don't cheat. I simply expand my portfolio. And you, Chloe, are becoming a rather stagnant asse

d been so blind, so desperate for his approval, for the illusion of our perfect life. My love, my sacrifices, my very identity, had been slowly eroded, gaslit into

evening broadcast. Baylee Villarreal's segment. She needs a senior analyst to prep her. Boss's orders." The unive

me through the preparation. I reviewed Baylee's notes, her scripts, her market projections. They were remarkably similar t

f the anchor desk, laughing a little too loudly with Augustus, who was casually leaning against the monitor, an arm draped aro

Mr. Clark said you'd be helping me with my segment. I'm so excited! It's such an honor to le

e. "Chloe has a wealth of experience, Baylee. Liste

d, my voice carefully neutral, holding up her script. "But

ed. Mr. Clark and I went over everything. He says my natural charm is far m

d, publicly emasculated in my own domain, by the very man who championed my position. A f

ter," I said, my voice a strained whispe

ssive hand. "Oh, I'll be fine. Mr. Clark has everything

mperceptibly, he glanced at me, a flicker of triumph in his icy

the control room, kept interjecting with encouraging words, praises for her "fresh perspective." The crew, once deferential to me, n

her arms around Augustus. "I did it! Thanks t

. Absolutely brilliant. Let's celebrate. Just us." They walked past me, Augustus not even acknowledging my

lence was deafening. I sank into my chair, the exhaustion a heavy cloak. My jaw ached. My pride

ymous number. A text message. "Listen to this. Baylee Villarreal. And your mother." Attached was an audio file. My he

an accident! I didn't see her! She just... came out of nowhere! The old woman, she was so sl

. We can fix this. Where are you? I'll be there in ten minutes. We'll get rid of the car. And you? You're go

ld woman?" Ba

chillingly detached. "Just focus on yourself. Your f

e. "Yes. Yes, Augustus.

stolen her ability to walk, her ability to speak clearly, that had condemned her to a life of quiet suffering. It wasn't an accident. It was Baylee. And Augustus. They knew. They covered it up. All these years, he let me b

, echoing off the silent walls of my office. The world tilted on its axis,