During the funeral, a raven landed on the girl’s coffin. A second later, everyone present went SPEAK…

For Emily Thompson, family values always came first, but one day she fell in love with a married man, a mistake that cost her dearly. She sat at her desk, sorting through papers. Her fingers deftly organized documents, but her thoughts were elsewhere. The morning was quiet, with no hint of trouble. The office smelled of coffee and fresh printer toner.

On a shelf behind her stood a framed photo of her favorite place—a lake nestled in the mountains. She glanced at it and gave a faint smile. Just finish this report, she thought, and she could take a break.

Muttering to herself, she clicked her mouse on the screen. A soft knock came at the door, so faint she barely noticed. It came again, louder, more insistent. “Yes, come in!” she called, not looking up from her monitor.

The door opened. Heavy, deliberate footsteps—not rushed, but confident—filled the room. The click of high heels echoed, and Emily’s heart quickened with each sound. She looked up and saw a stranger.

In the doorway stood a tall, statuesque woman, like someone from a fashion magazine cover. Her expensive suit hugged her flawless figure, her long blonde hair perfectly styled, her makeup impeccable. Abigail Carter. The CEO’s wife. Her gaze was sharp as a blade.

Abigail stepped into the office, scanning the room with a critical eye. A hint of disdain curled her lips. “Hmph. What does he even see in you?” she sneered, her eyes narrowing like a predator’s.

Emily’s legs trembled. She stood quickly, gripping the edge of her desk for balance. “Who are you talking about?” Her voice wavered, like a leaf in the wind.

Abigail stepped closer, her heels clicking like gunshots. “Don’t play dumb,” she snapped, circling the desk to stand face-to-face with Emily. “Are you my husband’s mistress?”

“No, I…” Emily’s eyes dropped, her hands shaking. “Of course you’d deny it,” Abigail tilted her head, studying Emily like a curious insect. “I have sources, and they’re rarely wrong.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emily’s voice grew quieter. “Don’t know?” Abigail stepped even closer, her face inches from Emily’s. “Say it again. I won’t believe your nonsense anyway.” Her tone dripped with venom, her gaze piercing….