My Husband Is The Devil Himself

"Mrs. Knight, your husband is entangled with a woman in Room 2588 of the Orchid Hotel."

Elin Knight's heart thundered against her chest, her breath hitching as the elevator slowly ascended towards the ominous floor.

Fresh from a grueling business trip to Eighving, Elin had barely set foot back home when a cryptic text message threw her into a maelstrom of doubt.

Initially, she brushed it off as a tasteless prank, but her unease deepened when her husband became unreachable, his digital footprint hauntingly centered at the Orchid Hotel.

Her anxiety swelled as she arrived at Room 2588, her eyes widening at the sight of the door, carelessly left ajar.

Abruptly, a mysterious force jolted her from behind, propelling her into the dimly lit room. As she steadied herself, a warm presence abruptly pinned her against the door, catching her off guard.

"Honey?" Elin murmured, her voice laced with hesitation and a flicker of hope.

Silence hung in the air, yet in the obscurity, the figure located her lips with flawless accuracy, kissing her with a fierce and fervent urgency.

The clues fused in her mind-the slightly open door, the fervent welcome-suggesting that her husband, Dean Knight, could be staging this elaborate scenario to celebrate their reunion.

Surrendering to the narrative she hoped was true, Elin relaxed into his arms, her own lips responding with equal passion.

As dawn crept across the sky, Elin stirred, sunlight dappling through grand windows to highlight the love bites delicately scattered across her arms. Though her muscles ached from the night's exertions, a profound sweetness surged through her veins.

Their marriage, though a year old, had never been consummated, their demanding careers leaving little room for intimacy.

Last night, they finally made it happen.

"Baby..."

As Elin turned around, poised to chastise Dean for scaring her last night, she was greeted by the stark emptiness of the bed. No lingering warmth hinted that he had departed hours earlier.

Resting on the bed was a necklace, exquisitely crafted from the Pure Affection series by a prestigious designer-its rarity was undeniable.

It seemed he had remembered to leave a token of his affection.

With a sweet smile, Elin clasped the delicate necklace around her neck. Just as she adjusted the necklace, the room's door slammed open with violent force. A group of reporters burst in, their cameras voraciously snapping photos, encircling the bed aggressively.

The incessant flashes bathed Elin in a stark, revealing light, highlighting the soft curves of Elin's barely covered body.

"Mrs. Knight, were you embracing a secret lover here at the hotel immediately after your trip? Has your union with Mr. Knight crumbled?"

"Is it true that you've secretly filed for divorce?"

"Mrs. Knight, can you clarify your current marital status?"

Blindsided by the intrusion and the venom in their queries, Elin recoiled, her back pressing into the softness of the headboard, eyes wide with horror.

"H-how dare you imply such falsehoods? I shared last night with my husband, not anyone else!" Her voice cracked as she tightened her grip on the flimsy blanket, her other hand shakily pointing towards the door. "I insist-leave at once!"

"Elin!"

The word cut sharply through the air, delivered in a chilling, irate tone that pierced the tumult around her.

At that instant, Elin felt a shadow fall over her. Lifting her eyes, she was met by the sight of her husband standing imposingly before her. The usual warmth and refinement in his expression had dissolved into a grim solemnity.

"Honey, your timing couldn't be more perfect," she said, her voice laden with relief. She hadn't even had the chance to inquire about his early departure or the stormy expression clouding his face. Hastily, she crawled toward him, her fingers trembling as they sought his arm for support. "Wasn't last night meant to be your delightful surprise for me? These reporters, they're accusing me of being unfaithful..."

Her words were abruptly cut short by the sting of his palm against her cheek, the force of the slap sending her sprawling back onto the bed, her mind reeling.

With a look of scorn, Dean snapped a stack of photographs in her direction. The sharp corners of the photos whipped against her cheek, splitting the skin and drawing a swift bead of blood.

"We're getting a divorce. Be at the courthouse by nine tomorrow morning. I'll be waiting!"

His voice was devoid of any warmth, a frosty blade that cut deeper than the chill of the room. Without another glance, he turned on his heel, his every step radiating disdain.

As Dean's figure receded, Elin clutched the aching side of her face, her eyes wide with shock and pain. A single photograph fluttered down before her, capturing a man stealthily exiting Room 2588. It showed only a side profile, clearly not that of her husband.

The timestamp on the photograph read six o'clock that morning.

Shivering with the cold realization, Elin gripped the photograph, her entire body quaking.

The truth was clear and yet so far from reach; the man from last night was definitely not Dean.