Replaceable Wife in 24 Hours

I stood frozen outside the door, watching my husband Jericho press his young intern against the office window.

Her breath came in shallow gasps. "Mr. Greene, please... slow down. I'm pregnant."

Jericho went rigid. He shoved her away, his expression turning stormy. "You skipped the pill?"

The girl—Margot—blinked like she couldn't process his reaction. Fear flashed across her face. "I... I forgot last time. Please don't be angry! I'll handle it immediately. Reina will never find out—"

"Cut the act," Jericho's voice turned to ice. "You're not fooling anyone. You could never be Reina."

A mechanical voice whispered in my ear: "Mr. Greene's statement is truthful. Proceed with world exit?"

"Yes," I answered without blinking.

"Confirmed. Exit processing in 24 hours."

Inside, Margot was already pawing at him again, desperate to regain his favor. Whatever shred of guilt he'd shown had evaporated. They were a tangle of limbs against the glass, completely oblivious to my presence. I turned on my heel, their panting breaths fading behind me.

Today marked five years of marriage. I'd left work early to surprise him. Instead, I got front-row seats to his office affair with the intern.

Margot Shore. Fresh-faced college grad. Started at Jericho's firm two months back.

I remembered our first meeting clearly—I'd dropped by the office to find Jericho screaming at her for misfiling documents. She'd stood there trembling, tears welling in those doe eyes, looking every bit the lost lamb.

Callum Firth, Jericho's ever-charming business partner, had tried defusing the situation. "Easy, Greene. She's still learning—don't traumatize the kid."

Margot had just stood there, blinking back tears like she was in some melodrama.

"Take your waterworks elsewhere," Jericho had snapped.

Seeing things escalating, I'd intervened. The moment Jericho spotted me, his entire demeanor shifted—the storm clouds parted, replaced by that carefully curated charm he reserved for me.

Callum had seized the moment to usher Margot out.

Later, I'd even joked to Jericho, "That girl's too delicate for this shark tank. Maybe keep her away from your playboy partner."

The irony wasn't lost on me now. I'd thought I was protecting her. What a joke.

Everyone knew Callum's reputation—a different woman on his arm every week.

When I'd warned Jericho about Margot's naivety, he'd just scoffed. "Innocent? Please. She's just incompetent. Let her finish her internship and be done with it."

Yet here we were, two months later, with a pregnancy announcement.

I left the house clutching his anniversary gift like some pathetic fool. Outside, twilight bled across the sky, vibrant hues dissolving into dull gray.

My phone buzzed. A WhatsApp notification: [Mrs. Greene, I know you saw everything. Talk when you're ready.]