Chapter 1 You Should’ve Stayed Quiet
The clock on the massive mantelpiece ticked past 9 p.m., its rhythmic sound almost mocking the chaos unraveling upstairs. The mansion — a towering monument of wealth buried deep inside a multibillion-dollar estate — felt cold, hollow, and hostile tonight. The stillness of its cavernous rooms was shattered by piercing screams and the sound of footsteps stomping across the polished hardwood floors.
“You’re a fool! A damn fool!” Maggie Moon’s voice ricocheted off the marble walls of the upstairs hallway, laced with venom. Her face was a storm of fury, crimson-cheeked and tear-streaked, her golden hair in disarray. She clutched Andrew’s phone in her trembling hand, the explicit video still burned into her mind.
Andrew Lock didn’t turn around. His broad back and hulking 6’7 frame seemed carved out of stone as he stormed away from her, his footsteps heavy, deliberate. “Stop following me!” he barked, his voice deep and thunderous, vibrating through the empty hall.
Maggie was relentless. “Why would you do this to me? To us?” She quickened her steps, almost running now, her heeled feet clicking sharply on the floor. “Turn back and look at me, you coward!”
Andrew’s fists clenched as he kept walking, refusing to meet her gaze. “What do you want me to say?!” His voice cracked with frustration as he threw his hands into the air without slowing down.
“What do I want you to say?” Maggie spat back, her fury escalating. She lunged forward, grabbed his arm, and tried to spin him around. Her small fingers barely dented his stride — he barely budged.
Andrew kept walking, his jaw set like granite.
“Turn and face me, you fool!” Maggie screamed, her voice trembling with heartbreak as tears welled in her eyes. “Tell me — lie to me — that it wasn’t you I saw on your phone, fucking another woman!”
Andrew froze mid-step. His shoulders stiffened. Slowly, he let out a bitter laugh before shouting over his shoulder, still refusing to face her. “It’s me. Are you happy now?!” His words sliced through the air like a blade.
Maggie gasped, the sound sharp and shaky.
“And it wasn’t a one-time thing like I said before,” Andrew added, his voice colder, crueler now. “I lied. It’s been going on for months. And guess what?” He finally turned slightly, his profile barely visible in the hallway light. “I don’t regret it.”
Her breath hitched.
“She’s my soulmate,” Andrew said slowly, enunciating every word, twisting the knife. “She’s more than everything you’ll ever hope to be for me.”
Maggie froze. Her legs went weak, her hands trembling violently at her sides. The words slammed into her chest like a bullet, leaving her breathless.
Then something inside her snapped. She lunged forward again, this time catching up to him and forcing him to turn. Andrew allowed it this time, spinning to face her fully.
Maggie stood there, chest heaving, her face wet with tears and rage. Andrew towered over her, his deep hazel eyes like two cold pits staring down at her. His full brown beard twitched as he spoke, his voice low but cutting.
“Yes, you heard me right,” he said, slow and deliberate, each syllable meant to crush her. “Yes, she’s my soulmate. Yes, she satisfies me in more ways than you ever could.”
A victorious smirk curved his lips, cruel and unyielding.
Maggie’s lips quivered as she glared up at him. “You—” Her voice broke. She bit her lip, trying to keep her composure, but the pain was too raw, too deep.
Andrew didn’t wait for her reply. He turned on his heel and began heading for the staircase, that smirk still plastered on his face.
Maggie stood frozen for a beat, her mind reeling. Then she snapped back into motion, fury overtaking her grief. “No, you won’t!” she screamed, charging after him.
Andrew had already made it halfway down the staircase when he stopped and turned to face her, his expression now a mixture of annoyance and warning.
“You’re a fool, that’s what you are,” Maggie spat as she descended the steps slowly, her voice shaking with rage. A humorless, bitter laugh escaped her lips. “And I am filing for divorce first thing tomorrow morning.”
Andrew’s smirk faltered slightly, but Maggie didn’t stop.
“I’m taking my son with me,” she hissed. “My father made you the judge you are today. The man you are today. We can strip you of everything — your reputation, your money — everything!” She stopped just inches from him, her breathing ragged, her chest rising and falling.
For the first time that night, Andrew’s face changed. His smirk melted into something darker, something dangerous.
And before Maggie could step back, before she could see it coming — Andrew snapped.
With a sudden, violent motion, he grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her hard.
“Andrew!” Maggie’s scream tore through the mansion as her small body flew backward.
Her heel caught on the edge of a step. Her arms flailed helplessly as she tumbled.
THUD.
CRACK.
THUD.
The sickening sound of her bones striking the wooden steps echoed through the mansion.
“Maggie!” Andrew’s voice rang out, but he didn’t move. He stood frozen at the top of the staircase, his chest heaving, his hands still outstretched from the shove.
Maggie’s body hit the bottom of the stairs with a final, horrifying crack, her head slamming into the marble floor.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then — the slow, chilling sound of blood pooling, a dark crimson river spreading across the polished tile.
Andrew stared down at her motionless body, his face pale, his hazel eyes wide but unreadable. He didn’t rush to her side. He didn’t call for help. He just stood there, breathing heavily, his expression slowly hardening.
And then — nothing. Maggie’s chest stopped rising. Her fingers, which had been twitching moments ago, went still.
The mansion was silent again, save for the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece and the faint drip of blood hitting the floor.
Andrew slowly descended the staircase, his footsteps measured and deliberate, until he stood over her passed out body.
He crouched down, brushed a strand of hair away from her bloodied face, and whispered coldly, “You should’ve stayed quiet.”