A car pulled up in the driveway – not a taxi, but his brother Martin’s sleek black sedan.
Stuart watched in silence as Angelina got out of the car, laughing at something Martin said. She then leaned over, her hand brushing his shoulder, and kissed him. It wasn’t a quick peck but a long, lingering kiss that made Stuart’s stomach turn.
Martin drove off, and Angelina walked into the house as if nothing had happened.
“Hey, honey,” she said brightly, leaning down to kiss Stuart on the forehead. “You’re going to love what I’m cooking for dinner tonight.”
Stuart forced a smile, his jaw clenched. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Later that night, as Angelina slept beside him, Stuart whispered into the darkness, “How could you do this to me, Angel? How could both of you betray me like this?”
He stared at the ceiling mirror long after Angelina had fallen asleep. The betrayal cut deeper than any physical pain he’d endured. “My wife and my own brother?” he silently cried.
His eyes were red and swollen from hours of crying, but his determination was clear. He was going to make those who betrayed him pay in the most fitting way.
The next morning, he called his butler, Bob.
“Bob,” Stuart said in a low voice, “I need your help arranging a surprise party. Call all our relatives and family friends. Make it grand. I want everyone here.”
Bob hesitated. “Sir, are you sure? You haven’t —”
“I’m sure,” Stuart interrupted. “This is going to be a celebration they’ll never forget.”
“As you wish, Sir,” Bob said with a bow and left.
That evening, the house was filled with life. Relatives and friends gathered in the living room, sipping champagne and chatting. It was the first party since Stuart’s accident, and everyone was glad to see him out of his room, dressed in his best suit, and sitting tall in his wheelchair.
Angelina looked radiant. “This is wonderful, darling,” she said, kissing his cheek. “It’s so good to have everyone together again.”