My Husband Chose His Mistress at Gunpoint

I stood at the kitchen island, checking the preparations for tonight's dinner party—silver cutlery arranged in perfect rows, champagne glasses sparkling in the sunlight, even the napkins folded into flawless lotus shapes.

'Victoria Kingsley, Orange County's most perfect housewife.' I thought sarcastically while adjusting the centerpiece. That was the label my neighbors had given me, and I'd worked hard to maintain that image.

The sound of keys turning in the front door echoed through the house, followed by Tyler's backpack hitting the floor.

"Mom, I'm home!" My eight-year-old son burst into the kitchen.

"Hey, sweetheart." I bent down to kiss his forehead. "How was school today?"

Tyler pulled out a bar stool and sat down, looking confused. "Mom, there's this new kid who's really weird."

"Weird?" I asked while pouring him a glass of milk. "Weird how?"

"Her name's Sophie, and when the teacher introduced her today, she said her dad was dead but that she was coming to live at our house." Tyler frowned.

My hand paused mid-pour. Sophie?

"Honey, maybe she meant something else," I said.

"But she also said she has a new mom, and that's you." Tyler looked at me with confusion. "Mom, when did you get another daughter?"

I felt my chest tighten. "Tyler, are you sure that's what she said?"

"Yeah! And she said she's moving in with us soon." Tyler took a sip of milk. "Mom, you look weird."

I forced a smile. "It's nothing, sweetheart. Maybe it's just a misunderstanding between kids. Now go do your homework. Dad has clients coming tonight, so you need to eat dinner early."

Tyler bounced upstairs, leaving me alone in the kitchen. My hands gripped the marble countertop tightly, my mind racing. Sophie? Marcus had never mentioned any child named Sophie to me.

'Calm down, Victoria.' I took a deep breath and continued preparing for the dinner party. Maybe Tyler just got something mixed up. Marcus would be showcasing our perfect family life to his clients tonight—something he'd always been proud of.

The evening unfolded exactly as planned. I played my role flawlessly—the gracious hostess serving wine with practiced elegance, engaging in polite conversation about market trends and school fundraisers, laughing at the right moments.

But throughout dinner, Tyler's words kept echoing in my head. Every time I caught Marcus's eye across the table, I searched his face for signs of deception, finding nothing but his usual charming smile directed at our guests.

The performance had been exhausting.

At eight o'clock, after the last guest left, I began cleaning up the dining room. Marcus was in the living room taking a phone call, his voice low. I could hear him saying things like "I know" and "it'll be fine soon."

"Sorry it ran so late, honey." Marcus walked into the dining room, his suit wrinkled. "The clients were very pleased with our investment portfolio."

"Good." I didn't stop clearing the plates. "Marcus, Tyler told me something strange today."

"Oh? What about?" He loosened his tie.

"He said there's a new student in his class named Sophie who claims she's coming to live with us." I turned to face him. "Do you know what that's about?"

Marcus's expression changed. He sat down on the couch, hands resting on his knees.

"Victoria, sit down. There's something I need to tell you."

My heart started pounding. "What is it?"

"Sophie is Elena's daughter. My... ex-wife's daughter." He paused. "After Elena died, Sophie has been living with Elena's mother. But the elderly woman's health is failing, and she can no longer take care of her."

"So?" My voice sounded sharper than I intended.

"I need to take her in. She's my responsibility, Victoria." Marcus looked at me. "I know this is sudden, but Sophie needs a home."

I felt the room spinning. "Why have you never mentioned her?"

"Because I knew it would be complicated." Marcus stood up and walked toward me. "But the situation has changed. I've already arranged for a nanny to help when she moves in."

"A nanny?" I stared at him. "I can take care of her, Marcus. I've done fine with Tyler."

"I know, but Carmen has experience. And..." he hesitated, "she's Elena's sister. Sophie needs that blood connection."

Carmen. Another name I'd never heard.

"When did you arrange all this?" I demanded.

"Recently." Marcus avoided my gaze. "I didn't want to stress you out. You've already given so much to this family."

"Stress?" My voice rose. "Marcus, this is a major decision about our family! You can't just decide on your own!"

"Victoria, please understand. Sophie is just a child who lost her mother." Marcus tried to hug me, but I pushed him away.

"What about Carmen? Is she 'just a child' too?"

Marcus sighed. "She's 22, very responsible. Sophie will trust her."

Twenty-two. The same age I was when Marcus and I first met. I suddenly felt an inexplicable unease.

The number echoed in my mind long after Marcus had retreated to his study, muttering something about urgent client calls.

At eleven PM, I lay in bed waiting for Marcus to return from his study. I picked up his phone from the nightstand—we'd never checked each other's phones before; it was an unspoken rule in our marriage.

But tonight was different.

I swiped open the screen and saw several unread messages. Sender: Carmen.

[Sophie had nightmares again tonight. She needs you.]

[Thank you, Carmen. You mean so much to our family.]

[I'll take good care of her, Marcus. And... the other matters.]

There were more messages. The timestamps showed these conversations had been going on for over a month.

"Marcus, we need to talk." I stormed into the study with his phone.

I stared at the phone screen, then at Marcus. "You said Sophie is living with her grandmother and needs to be taken in. But Carmen is texting about her nightmares TONIGHT. Where exactly is Sophie right now, Marcus?"

Marcus's face went completely white. "I... Victoria, let me explain."

My voice was shaking with rage. "These messages go back over a month. Carmen has been taking care of Sophie for a MONTH, hasn't she?"

"I didn't want you to worry—"

"Bullshit!" The word came out louder than I intended. "Where is she, Marcus? Where has Sophie been living?"

Marcus slumped in his chair. "With Carmen. In a small apartment downtown."

"So when you said she 'needs' to come live with us, you meant she's already been displaced from her grandmother's house and you've been secretly supporting them both behind my back."

"It's not like that—"

"Then what is it like?" I threw the phone onto his desk. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you've been running a secret second family for a month while playing perfect husband with me."

"Victoria, please—"

"No." I backed toward the door. "You don't get to 'please' me right now. You've been lying about everything. The grandmother story, the 'future' arrangements, Carmen being just a nanny you're 'considering' hiring. What else have you been lying about?"

Marcus stood up, hands raised as if approaching a wild animal. "I was trying to figure out the best way to tell you."

"For a MONTH? You needed a month to figure out how to tell your wife that you've been financially supporting your dead ex-wife's sister and her child?"

The silence stretched between us, heavy with all the words neither of us dared to say.

"When is Sophie moving in here?" I finally asked, my voice deadly quiet.

"This weekend," Marcus whispered.

"Fine." I turned to leave the study. "But Marcus? Next time you decide to lie to me about something this big, make sure your phone is password protected."