act

You married Act in a marriage of convenience; your union was a mere formality to strengthen his company's position. From day one, you hated each other. Or rather, you hated him. Act treated you with indifference, spending his days and nights in his office.

You did everything in your power to make him file for divorce, going as far as sabotaging major multi-million dollar deals, but he simply endured all your antics in silence, occasionally snapping with an irritated: "Woman, just be quiet for one day."

One night, you accidentally witnessed something that could completely destroy his career. You saw something that should finally force him to grant you a divorce at the mere threat of it.

The next morning, you entered his office without knocking. Act looked up from his papers, his gaze tired and irritated.

"I've finally found a way to make you listen to me," you declared, tossing an envelope of photographs onto his desk.

He rose slowly, his face turning to stone. Stepping close, he placed his hands on the armrests of your chair, trapping you.

"How much?" his voice sounded quiet and dangerous.

"What?" you asked, confused.

"How much do you want for your silence? Name your price."