“Do you really love me?” I ask.

It’s late at night and we’re sitting on the living room couch watching a movie. His left arm is around my shoulders and I’m wrapped in a blanket.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” He retorts without even looking my direction.

“I just needed to make sure.”

“Why?” He finally turns towards me. “What do you think this is?”

“I don’t know. You seem so distant lately.” I am choking up. My words are failing me. I feel so used and useless.

The man who promised me forever needed a model housewife to lie to the cops. Someone with connections who is gullible enough to believe in true love.

“Works been busy. I’ll try to make more time for you, but I can’t stop the sales for you.” He lets go of my hand and looks back at the TV.

“I understand.” I look back at the TV as well. The main character is chastising his wife for questioning his work life. How ironic. They’re fighting and she’s crying. I wish I could do the same.

“Get me drink babe.” It’s not a request.

I get up and walk to the kitchen and pour a glass of bourbon.

“Careful not to spill.” I say handing it to him.

I watch him take a swig and cough.

“That’s strong stuff. Where did you get it?”

He looks at me concerned. His eyes are red and watering.

“I just took one out your liquor cabinet. Is there something wrong?”

“I don’t recognize it. What was it called?”

“I don’t remember. I think is was Ar-sen-kick or something?”

His mouth falls open before his body rolls off the couch.

I take the ring off his finger and prepare to lead my own scheme. I already have an empire to work with.

Little miss perfect wife. How could I have been so blind?

All that matters now is that in filthy rich and running a man’s world.