Victor came home late, drunk and arrogant, with his campaign manager, Lydia, by his side. They mocked me openly, laughed about my bruises, and spoke as if I were invisible in my own home.
While I prepared breakfast ingredients in the kitchen, they casually discussed bribery, missing complaint files, and people who had been paid to stay silent. They believed power made them untouchable.
Victor even kissed Lydia in front of me, expecting tears or anger. Instead, I calmly continued slicing strawberries and planning the next morning.
What neither of them knew was that hidden cameras had recorded everything, and every word was already becoming evidence-
