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PartOne
TheFall
ChapterOne
Karensignore trigger warnings, only to later complain about said warnings.Don'tbe aKaren.Thisbook contains nonconsensual sexual scenes and an extramarital affair.Thistrope isONLYintended for open-minded readers exploring their fantasies in fiction while exercising good judgment in real-life situations.
May30th, 2022
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Piya
“It’llbe fun,”Jaydeclared.
“No, it won’t,”Icountered. “Myargument is based on the very rebuttal; it won’t be fun.Jay, why do we have to go out tonight?Itwould’ve been the perfect night to stay in.”
Mysentiment was countered by the gust of wind sweeping over us sinceJayhad taken down the top of his convertible.Itwas the perfect night to go out instead of staying cooped up.Thebaby hair on my forehead danced along in agreement.Theintense cold ofNewYorkwinter was replaced by cool spring weather.Anight out was a reprieve while the weather was cooperating.Imerely disliked our destination, asI’dmuch rather stay home with my husband.
Unfortunately, business calls.
Jayowned a hedge fund company based inNewYork.Wewere both born and raised inNewYorkbut decided to makeChicagoour home following our nuptials.Jayrelocated his main operations toChicagowhile maintaining a smaller client base inNewYork.Aftera decade away, we found ourselves in a bind and moved back.
Sinceour return toNewYork,Jayhas been preoccupied with re-strengthening his previous business connections.Thebest way to do so was by attending parties and socials, thoughIknew he despised the pageantry of these affairs more thanIdid.
Wehad been invited to a party inLongIslandtonight.WhileJaydidn’t know the host personally and was initially reluctant, he changed his mind upon realizing the event was basically in our backyard and the perfect opportunity to network.Somerich guy had been throwing these extravagant who’s-who affairs all summer.Invitationsto these parties were strictly through word of mouth but not as exclusive as expected.Infact, people were discouraged from showing up alone, the motto beingmore the merrier.
Itmade sense.Lonersraised suspicion amongst the elites, and they steered clear of social pariahs.Notto mention, a word-of-mouth invitation could hardly fall into the wrong hands.Therich and powerful ran in similar crowds and would only bring along like-minded individuals.Thesesocial events were incestuous cesspools dominated by identical people.
Tonightwould be no different.
Myhusband tilted his head, his dark hair partially covering his eyes. “Whyare you being grumpy, babe?Youused to love being social.”
“Istill love being social… with you.”Iplaced my hand on his thigh suggestively.Ithad been months since we had sex, andIworried about our rift.Jayhad always been driven, but lately, he had been working nonstop, traveling toChicagoat every opportunity since establishing connections there.Despitethe beautiful home we purchased inLongIsland,Jaywas yet to spend a night inNewYork.Ididn’t understand his sudden motivation to magnify our wealth.Itwasn’t as if we needed it.Hewas home for only one night, leaving tomorrow on yet another trip.Istupidly assumed we’d spend the night alone.
Jayremoved my hand from his thigh but kissed my fingers to soften the blow. “It’llbe good for you to get out of the house more.Don’tbe aDebbieDowner,” he chided softly.
“AllDebbieswill take offense to your statement,”Iretorted, brushing off the rejection with a forced smile.
“Myguilty conscience will live to see another day.”Jayshrugged, unaware of the large population of women namedDebbiehe insulted. “It’llbe nice for you to see old friends.”
Therewas only one friend of mine attending this party,Jordan.Imet her at a time whenIwas young and a rebel.Atthis stage of life,I’dmuch rather be a social pariah and a recluse.Pretendingto be happy at a swanky event had plastered a semi-permanent pout on my face.
Jayseemed unfazed by my lack of enthusiasm and switched on the blinkers to turn left, the flashing light indicating the end of our short journey.Myexasperated sigh turned into a gasp whenJaypassed the gate.Thegold-rimmed sky-high metal gates were wide open, presumably for convoys of guests.Itled passage into the larger-than-life driveway curling for over a mile.Somethingfamiliar niggled in the back of my brain at the sight of this path, butIcouldn’t place it, soIbanked it away.
“Wow,”Ihummed hypnotically. “Dowe know who owns this place?”
Jayshrugged. “Noowner was listed online for this property, only a corporation.ButIheard it’s some guy trying to expand his connections.”
Aka, new money.
“Apparently, he is a celebrity.”
“Doesn’tthat narrow it down?Ifwe see a celebrity at the party, we’ll know it’s him.”
Jayshook his head. “Therehave been numerous celebrity sightings at these events.It’simpossible to know which one of them is behind it.Giventhat planners andPRrepresentatives manage the parties, the only way to find out is if thePRcompany cracks.”Hesmiled at me wickedly, the insinuation evident.
Jordan.
