03

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"Sweetheart..." Raditya called again. The flat stare his wife was giving him was deeply unsettling — nothing like her usual warmth.

"You tired?" he asked gently, trying to break the tension. He patiently took the bag from Anindya's hand and guided her by the shoulders to the plush sofa in the living room.

He doesn't feel an ounce of guilt after what he's done, Anindya thought bitterly.

Her eyes remained fixed on her husband's face, utterly devoid of expression.

"The man I sacrificed everything for turns out to be nothing but a bastard."

"Sweetheart... what's wrong?" Raditya was visibly confused now, growing restless. She had been staring at him in complete silence, and something in that stare made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. His wife was different tonight — something he had never seen before.

"Nothing," Anindya answered curtly. Her voice was flat. Impossibly flat. "I'm just a little tired."

"Well then, come here and rest for a bit," Raditya said, hurrying to the dining room. He returned moments later with a glass of water and offered it to Anindya, who was still watching him in silence.

She took the glass but didn't drink. Her fingers tightened around it.

"Was I too good to him? Did he think that no matter what he did, I'd never get angry or leave? Or now that the company is running smoothly, does he think his position is secure?"

"But Raditya... you made a terrible mistake. I was the one who stood by you through every hardship when we were starting out. I was the one who broke my back alongside you. And now, someone else wants to waltz in and enjoy the rewards without ever having suffered a single day? Do they really think I'll just sit here and take it?"

"I was the one who walked with you from zero. I built the networks, forged the connections, poured everything I had into making us succeed" for our happiness alone. But it turns out none of that meant anything to you. So... don't blame me for taking it all back.

Anindya gazed at Raditya, who was smiling at her. She raised the glass slowly to her lips and sipped. He had no idea that behind her calm exterior, the fire of vengeance was already burning — ready to consume everything.

"Sweetheart... what is it?"

Raditya waved his hand gently in front of Anindya's face. She seemed to be staring into some vast, unreachable distance, her gaze hollow, as though her soul had drifted somewhere else entirely.

"What are you really thinking about? If something's bothering you, tell me! We'll face it together." How sweet the words sounded coming from his mouth.

"Ah... it's nothing," Anindya said quietly. "Actually — I'm completely exhausted today. I want to sleep in peace tonight. You take the guest room."

Without waiting for a response or the slightest protest, she stood and walked out of the room with decisive steps, ignoring Raditya calling after her to eat dinner first.

Raditya watched his wife disappear, his mind in turmoil. What was going on with Anindya? Why had she turned cold as ice overnight? An uneasy premonition crept through his gut, but he had no idea what to do about it.

Meanwhile, in the master bedroom...

Anindya shut the door and turned the lock, then leaned her back against it.

"A man who cheats is garbage... disgusting," she muttered. "I will never let him touch me again."

The next day, lunchtime.

Anindya sat alone in an upscale restaurant. For years, she had always been frugal — choosing to bring a packed lunch from home rather than spend money at a place this extravagant. She had done all of it so they could build their wealth together. All because the man she loved had promised never to let her down, and she had willingly sacrificed every small pleasure for their shared future.

But not anymore.

She would no longer hold herself back. She would buy what she liked, eat what she craved. Better to spend the money she had worked so hard for on herself than to watch it lavished on a homewrecker.

Her phone rang — a call from her husband. No doubt he was scrambling at the office. There was supposed to be a client meeting right about now. But she didn't care. From this moment forward, she would not work herself to the bone for him. She was going to take her time and enjoy making herself happy.

But just as she was about to savor the dish a waiter had set before her...

A woman who looked significantly younger sat down across from her, one hand bracing her enormously pregnant belly. Anindya knew exactly who she was. Sofia. Raditya's mistress. That face was seared into her memory from the photographs and from the hospital the day before.

Anindya set down her fork and knife, leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms over her chest, and fixed the woman with a stare as cold as arctic wind.

Her eyes scanned Sofia from head to toe. The clothes the woman wore were clearly expensive. So were the jewelry glinting at her neck and on her fingers.

And where had all of that come from? From the sweat of Anindya's brow, of course — from her sleepless nights, her strategic brilliance, every tender she had won for the company. And now this woman, who had never lifted a finger, was casually enjoying the spoils? Did she deserve any of it?

You look so happy right now. But you've forgotten — things gained by stealing can never be enjoyed forever. Wait for that day to come, and you won't be able to show your face to anyone, she thought.

Sofia sat directly across from Anindya without so much as asking permission, as if deliberately flaunting her pregnant belly.

"Hello, Mrs. Wicaksono," Sofia greeted her with a sweet smile.

Anindya didn't answer. Gave no response whatsoever beyond a flat, penetrating stare that seemed to bore straight into the woman's soul.

"You don't seem to recognize me," Sofia continued, trying to maintain her friendly facade despite the rising discomfort. "I'm actually a great admirer of yours. A brilliant businesswoman whose name is known across the country. I saw you once at a gala."

Anindya remained silent. Her unblinking eyes stared straight ahead, making the air between them thick with tension.

"How dare she!* Sofia seethed internally. *I went through all this effort to doll myself up, and she won't even acknowledge me! There's no way she doesn't know who I am!"

Humiliated, Sofia finally chose to retreat. Her face flushed red with barely contained rage as she snatched up her designer handbag.

"Ah, I'm sorry... it seems my presence is quite unwelcome. I'll be going now," she said, rising quickly and walking away from the table.

Anindya watched the woman's retreating back with the same frozen, expressionless face.

"She's still so young. Pretty face, seems educated too,* Anindya observed silently. *So why would she choose to be someone's mistress?"

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