You come down the stairs quietly, trying not to wake anyone as you search for a late-night snack. As you step into the kitchen, you freeze. Ana is bent over the sink, her tight jeans perfectly outlining her prominent behind as she washes a glass.

"Hmph. What are you doing here so late?" She straightens up, turning to face you with a sharp glare. Her thick Russian accent is unmistakable. Her delicate features crinkle slightly as she leans closer, sniffing the air. "Is that alcohol I smell? You’ve been drinking, haven’t you? You are just like my son’s other friends—reckless and foolish." She crosses her arms, her cold, piercing eyes fixed on you.

She steps closer, her heels clicking against the floor. "I should wake my husband. He would not like to know his son’s friend behaves so irresponsibly."

"Well, that makes it even worse," she says coldly. "You don't know your limits yet." She steps closer still, her long hair brushing against your arm as she leans in slightly. "Listen here, young man," she says sharply, lowering her voice. "Drinking is a serious matter. You shouldn't do it just because everyone else does." Her pale skin glows softly in the dim light of the kitchen as she looks at you with narrowed eyes. "Now go back to bed before someone sees you like this."

Her words feel like a slap across the face, and you can tell that she's not going to let this go easily. You nod meekly and head back upstairs, avoiding eye contact with her as you pass. As soon as you're out of sight, you sigh in relief. She might have been a trophy wife once, but now she

Well then, perhaps you should have thought about that before drinking, didn't you? You know where the kitchen is. Go get something to eat and then go back to bed. I don't want to see your foolish face around here anymore tonight.

Ana's chuckle is sharp and mocking. "Thank you," she says dryly, turning away to busy herself with something at the counter. "You should know better than to compliment me, though. I'm married." Her voice carries a note of warning, as if daring you to cross some invisible line. But perhaps you were just trying to be polite... or maybe she misunderstands your intentions entirely.

"You're not the first one to say that," she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "But I am loyal to my husband, and he would not appreciate such attention." Her gaze flickers back in your direction briefly before returning to whatever she's doing at the counter. It seems clear that Ana is uncomfortable with this line of conversation.

Her head snaps up at your words, her eyes widening in shock and anger. For a moment, it looks as if she's about to lunge across the counter and claw your face off. But then, with a visible effort of will, she forces herself to calm down. "Don't you dare speak about my husband like that," she hisses through clenched teeth, her pale skin flushed with rage. "He is a good man, and he does not deserve your accusations."

Her voice drips with venom as she leans forward on the counter, fixing you with an icy glare. "Now listen to me carefully," she says, each word sharp as a blade. "You stay away from my husband. You do not spread lies about him or our marriage. And if I ever see you near either of us again... let's just say that I won't be so polite

Her eyes widen in shock as she sees the picture on your phone. For a moment, her anger abates, replaced by something that looks suspiciously like fear. "Where did you get this?" she demands hoarsely, her voice barely above a whisper. Without waiting for an answer, she snatches the phone out of your hand and scrutinizes the photo more closely.

Her composure shatters entirely as realization sets in: the woman in the picture is not just some random person; it's one of her former modeling colleagues. Suddenly, everything falls into place: his late nights at work, his secretive texts and calls... He has been cheating on her with another woman from their past!

Ana feels a cold fury rise up within her, drowning out all other emotions. Without hesitation, she slaps you across the face hard enough to sting even through

You'd think she wouldn't have the nerve to speak after betraying her trust like that, but no—Ana is still feeling guilty and confused. She looks away for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts as she wipes at her stinging cheek. When she finally meets your gaze again, there's a combination of hurt, anger, and confusion in her eyes.

"I don't care why you did it," she snaps, her voice shaking with emotion. "You had no right to involve yourself in my marriage like that." The tightness in her chest makes it hard for her to breathe as she continues, "And even if what you said was true... he's still my husband. You have no business interfering."

Her words come out faster now, almost as if they're being dragged from her against her will. "I don't know why I

Ana eyes you with suspicion, not sure what to make of your offer. "You shouldn't have involved yourself in the first place," she says icily, stepping back from you and folding her arms across her chest. Her mind reels as she processes everything that's happened; it's hard for her to believe that her perfect marriage has been torn apart by lies and betrayal. "I don't need your help," she finally spits out, her voice trembling with anger and hurt. "Just leave us alone."

Without giving you a chance to respond, she turns on her heel and storms up the stairs. The sound of her footsteps fades as she disappears from sight, leaving you feeling confused, guilty... and perhaps even a little worried about what might happen next.

You hear her mutter something about needing some air before going outside and taking a walk around the neighborhood. The cool night breeze does little to calm her nerves as she paces back and forth, trying to decide what to do next. Should she confront her husband? Separate from him? Or should she try to forgive him, even though it will be incredibly difficult for her?

Her mind spins with possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. Eventually, she decides that the only thing she can do is go back inside and face whatever comes next, head held high. As she enters the house, she tries to compose herself before reentering the living room where everyone else has settled down for the night.

She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever lies ahead, knowing that nothing will ever be the same again.