~Marcella's POV~
I stood frozen in the doorway of our bedroom, the air thick with the stench of sweat and cheap perfume.
There was my husband, Richard, balls deep in his office assistant...some twiggy little thing named Lisa, her legs wrapped around his waist like she owned the place.
The matrimonial bed, our bed, creaked under them, sheets tangled and stained.
My heart slammed against my ribs, a mix of rage and nausea churning in my gut.
"What the f**k, Richard?" I finally spat out, my voice cracking like cheap glass.
He didn't even pull out. Just glanced over his shoulder, his face flushed and smug, thrusting lazily into her as if I were interrupting a boring meeting. Lisa whimpered, her eyes wide, peeking at me from behind him, but she didn't say a word...just quivered there, c
