For a long moment, Jane said nothing. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
Her mind was spinning, trying to reconcile the man standing before her with the one on the news.
She had always known Joshua to be ambitious, calculating when needed—but corrupt? Capable of this kind of betrayal?
The silence stretched on, and finally, she blinked back the tears threatening to fall.
"It doesn't matter," she said quietly. "Josh... we'll get through this. I promise. We'll survive this."
She reached for his hand, her grip firm, even as her voice shook.
She tried to smile—to show strength, loyalty, love—but it faltered.
Her lips trembled, and the smile twisted into something pained and uncertain.
He held her hand in both of his, lowering his head.
"You shouldn't have to stand by me in this."
"But I will," she replied. "Because you're my husband. Because I still believe in the man I married—even if you made a terrible mistake."
And though her heart was breaking, Jane knew that this was just the beginning of a long, public, and painful fall from grace.
But for now, she stayed beside him, not because she had all the answers, but because she was the only one left who hadn't turned away.
The following days brought nothing but misfortune for the senator.
"Senator Imprisoned Without Bail."
The headline flashed across every news channel, plastered on papers in bold, unforgiving print.
Jane stared at it in disbelief, her heart sinking as the reality settled in—her husband, once a respected and influential man, was now a prisoner awaiting trial.
His fall from grace had been swift and brutal.
There would be no bail, no comfort, and seemingly, no justice.
It was a nightmare Jane couldn't wake up from. In a sudden twist of fate, her world shattered.
The man she had built a life with—the man who had stood beside her at countless charity galas, political dinners, and family celebrations—was now behind bars.
The first days were unbearable, filled with confusion, phone calls, and silence.
No explanations, no reassurances. Just chaos.
But if it was hard for him, it was excruciating for her.
Jane's perfect, carefully curated life had turned upside down in the blink of an eye.
One moment, she was the wife of a powerful senator; the next, she was a social pariah.
Friends she once dined with no longer returned her calls.
Whispers followed her wherever she went—if she dared go out at all.
She found herself screaming into pillows at night, cursing everything: the justice system, the reporters, the betrayal she felt but couldn't name.
How could everything go so wrong so quickly?
She couldn't understand it, couldn't accept it. It was as if the world had turned against her, and no one was willing to help.
Their mansion—once the pride of their success—had been sealed off, declared a crime scene and impounded as potential evidence. Jane wasn't even allowed to retrieve her belongings.
She was forced to check into a hotel, clutching a suitcase she barely had time to pack.
Each night, she stared at the ceiling of that cold, unfamiliar room as bills piled up on the nightstand, reminders of a life unraveling.
She knew this couldn't go on.
The banks had frozen all their assets—hers included—leaving her with no access to their wealth.
Everything they had worked for was now beyond her reach.
Credit cards were declined.
Bank accounts were locked.
She could barely cover the hotel bill, let alone hire the kind of legal team her husband desperately needed.
Desperation clawed at her chest. She called everyone she could think of—old friends, political allies, even distant family members.
She begged, pleaded, tried to strike deals, but all she received were vague reassurances and hollow promises.
"I'll see what I can do," they said. "Give it time." But time was the one thing she didn't have.
No one dared take her side. No one wanted to be associated with a sinking ship.
In the span of a few days, Jane had gone from a woman of power and privilege to someone utterly alone, abandoned by a world that once applauded her every move.
And still, she clung to hope—bitter, fragile hope—that something, anything, would change.
This torment went on for nearly a month—day after day of silence, dread, and dwindling hope—until one morning, Jane's phone buzzed with a call from an unknown number.
She picked it up immediately, heart pounding. Maybe it was a lawyer with good news.
Maybe someone had finally come through for her.
But the moment she heard the voice on the other end, her blood ran cold.
"A slap for a life. How do you like how things turned out for you, Jane? I hope you're enjoying it."
The voice was mocking, calm, and unmistakably male. Jane froze in place, her fingers trembling around the phone.
"You?!" she gasped, a wave of recognition crashing over her. The voice was familiar—too familiar. And it didn't take her long to piece it together.
"Did you have anything to do with what happened to my husband?" Her voice rose, laced with fury and disbelief.
"Of course I did," the man replied smoothly. "That one little slap? It was expensive. I don't forget people who offend me, Jane. I make them pay. And your husband—well, he paid for your mistakes very well."
Jane gritted her teeth, rage bubbling to the surface.
"Fuck you, Ross! You think you can just get away with this?! I'll report you to the police! You're finished, you sick, arrogant—"
Her voice cracked as hysteria took over.
She screamed every curse she could think of, pacing back and forth in the hotel room, hair disheveled, eyes wild.
But Ross didn't interrupt her.
He simply listened in silence, as if enjoying every second of her breakdown.
Finally, after several minutes of her ranting, he spoke again—calm, collected, and cruel.
"So... do you want to see your husband go free?"
His words hung in the air like a dagger.
Jane went silent. Her breath caught in her throat.
"What... what are you saying?" she whispered, suddenly unsure of everything.
The game had just changed—and Ross was holding all the cards.