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PROLOGUE
My cousin, Lola, just posted a new update on her Instagram Story.
It was a photo of her lounging on a mattress, looking cozy.
The caption read: Brother-in-law's mattress is just so comfy~
I stared at the screen, my blood running cold. I checked the usage log on the SleepIQ app for the mattress. It showed activity tonight.
I was ready to tear that cheating couple apart.
But then, my husband, Damon, exploded in the comments section.
"Are you fucking destitute? That was trash. Literal trash I threw out days ago. And you picked it up?"

01
Today was supposed to be special.
To celebrate our first wedding anniversary, I had flown back early from my business trip to surprise Damon.
I let myself into our Beverly Grove home, exhausted but excited. I went straight to the master bedroom to rest.
But the moment I lay down, something felt off. The firmness, the texture it was wrong.
I pulled back the silk sheets.
It was a brand-new mattress. A Sleep Number 360 Smart Bed.
Why on earth would Damon replace our mattress without telling me?
Bored and slightly suspicious, I opened Instagram.
And there it was. The very first story on my feed was from my cousin, Lola Banks.
She was showing off "our" mattress.
In the photo, she was wearing revealing silk lingerie, posing seductively on a mattress that looked suspiciously like our old one. The lighting was dim, intimate.
Her caption made my stomach churn: "Brother-in-law's mattress is just so comfy~"
A million thoughts raced through my mind.
Did Damon do something with her on the old mattress? Did they stain it? Is that why he was in such a rush to replace it?
Then I saw another comment from Lola under her own post, clearly fishing for attention: "Brother-in-law is so thoughtful. I just mentioned I wasn't sleeping well, and he gave it to me~"
So, I go on a business trip, and my husband hooks up with my cousin?
I couldn't believe this trashy reality TV drama was happening to me.
I took a screenshot immediately. I needed evidence before I ripped them both to shreds.
Just then, my phone rang. It was Damon.
His voice sounded confused, hesitant. "Harper... is your cousin's family, like, really poor?"
I blinked, completely thrown off by his question. "What?"
"Check her Instagram," he said, sounding disgusted.
I opened the app again and saw Damon's comment from a minute ago.
It was brutal.
"Are you fucking destitute? That was trash. Literal trash I threw out days ago. And you picked it up?"
"If you weren't my wife's cousin, I would have broken your legs for trespassing."

02
At that moment, Damon was rushing home, carrying my anniversary gift, desperate to explain.
"Honey, you have to believe me!" he pleaded over the phone. "My heart belongs only to you. If Lola wasn't your blood relative, she wouldn't even be fit to appear on my contact list."
Reading his savage reply on Instagram, the fire of rage in my chest was instantly extinguished.
It was replaced by a strange mix of relief and amusement.
"I swear to God," Damon continued, "how was I supposed to know that the second I threw that old mattress out for recycling, she would go dumpster diving for it?"
"If you don't believe me, I'll drag her over here right now and interrogate her!"
I thought he was just trying to coax me, to calm me down.
But I underestimated Damon's temper.
Early the next morning, he literally banged on the guest room door, dragging Lola out of bed.
He demanded an explanation. He wanted his name cleared.
Before I could even speak, Lola's eyes were already red and puffy, like a frightened deer.
"Cousin Harper, please don't be mad at Damon," she whimpered, looking at me with wide, innocent eyes. "It's all my fault. Damon only gave me the mattress because he saw I had insomnia."
Wait.
Her story was changing. She was implying that Damon gave it to her, not that she picked it up from the curb.
So, who was lying?
Damon lost it.
His face darkened, a cold sneer curling his lips. "Do you have no shame? What do I care if you sleep well? You followed me and picked it up from the curb yourself. Don't try to make yourself look important."
"We have security cameras," Damon added, his voice dripping with venom. "Do you want to go check the footage together?"
Lola looked at him in disbelief. Her big, watery eyes stared at him, shocked that he wouldn't save her even a shred of dignity.

03
At this point, even a fool could see Lola's bad intentions.
She wasn't just "borrowing" a mattress. She was staking a claim.
If my mother hadn't forced me to take her in claiming family should help family while she attended college in the city I would have kicked her out long ago.
I took a deep breath, trying to maintain my composure.
"Lola," I said firmly. "We noticed there are some student apartments for rent near your campus. In a few days, we'll go take a look. It'll be more convenient for your classes."
I paused, letting the silence hang for a second.
"You're an adult now," I continued. "You need to learn about boundaries."
I emphasized the word boundaries.
Lola panicked instantly.
"Cousin Harper, did I do something wrong?" She looked at me with tears welling up again. "Did I offend you somehow?"
Then, she turned to look at Damon, biting her lip, acting as if she had misspoken and was silently pleading for his help. It was a performance designed to make me look like the cruel, unreasonable wife.
"No, Damon, don't misunderstand," she said quickly. "I'm not saying Harper treats me badly..."
My anger flared.
My mother's "sisterly love" was the only reason Lola was living here, eating my food, wearing clothes I bought her, and living rent-free in my house. And now she was hinting that I was mistreating her?
What an ungrateful little snake.
I was about to explode, but Damon pulled me behind him.
He squeezed my hand gently, signaling that he would handle this.
"We're not just 'saying' things," Damon said coldly. "Do you not have hands? If you're so worried about being a burden, you could clean the house. Relieve some of your cousin's stress."
"You eat our food, drink our wine, and talk so much, but I never see you do any work," he scoffed. "Your cousin works hard. Why should she have to take care of you too?"
Lola's face turned pale, then red.
Seeing that Damon wouldn't even look at her, she stormed back into her room and slammed the door. She didn't even come out for dinner.

04
Once the third wheel was finally gone, Damon buried his face in my neck, acting like a spoiled child.
"Babe," he mumbled against my skin. "For the sake of our marriage, can we please send your cousin away sooner? I'm suffering here. Our alone time is shrinking to zero."
Ever since Lola moved in, she had been trying to drive a wedge between us over the smallest things.
For the sake of our sanity, Damon and I agreed: once this semester was over, Lola was moving out. Whether she liked it or not.
I thought Damon's harsh attitude would make Lola settle down.
I was wrong.
She didn't stop. She escalated.
Later that night, I was working on a project proposal in the study.
Damon's iPad was linked to his iMessage, sitting on the desk next to me.
Suddenly, it started pinging like crazy.
I glanced over.
It was Lola.
She had sent him a barrage of photos. All of them were of her posing in various skimpy, lace lingerie sets.
And she was lying on our brand-new Sleep Number mattress.
The curves of her body were on full display.
Then came the voice messages. Her voice was breathy, sickeningly sweet.
"Brother-in-law... your new mattress feels so good against my skin."
"It smells like you. It makes me feel so safe."
My blood boiled.
She wasn't just crossing a line. She was sprinting past it.
Sending these kinds of photos to her cousin's husband in the middle of the night? It was a direct solicitation.
But then, a thought struck me.
Wait.
Was this some kind of code? Were they actually doing something?
I decided to play dumb. I wanted to see Damon's reaction first.

05
Damon walked out of the shower, drying his hair with a towel.
He picked up his iPad.
As he saw the messages, his eyebrows knitted together so tightly they could have crushed a diamond.
Without hesitation, he blocked her contact.
"What the actual fuck?" he muttered, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the device.
He marched straight to the guest room and kicked the door open.
Bang!
The sound startled both me and Lola.
Damon stood in the doorway, his chest heaving. His eyes were murderous.
"Are you sick in the head?" he roared. "I gave you the old one because it was trash. When the hell did you get on the new one?"
I rushed over to pull Damon back, genuinely afraid he might physically throw her out the window.
Lola was trembling, clutching a pillow to her chest.
"I... yesterday morning, when you left, the door wasn't locked," she stammered, looking terrified. "I just wanted to help Cousin Harper test it... to see if it was comfortable..."
She glanced at me, then back at Damon, tears streaming down her face.
"Is Harper mad?" she sobbed. "Harper, please don't be mad at Damon. Blame me. It's all my fault."
I watched her performance coldly.
She wanted to help me "test" the mattress? Right.
She was young, but her schemes were ancient.
"Get out!" Damon screamed. "If you want to act crazy, go do it somewhere else! Don't you ever step foot in our bedroom again!"
"Get the fuck out of my house!"
This was the first time I had ever seen Damon this angry.
He grabbed Lola's purse from the dresser and hurled it out into the hallway.
Terrified that she would provoke him further, I told Lola to shut the door and stay silent.
She was shaking like a leaf, hiding in her room, not daring to make a sound.
I hugged Damon, rubbing his back slowly to calm him down.
"Honey, don't be mad," I whispered. "We'll get her into a dorm this weekend. It'll just be us again."
It took a long time for Damon to cool down. He drank several glasses of water, his hands still shaking slightly.
"I just feel bad for you," he said finally, his voice hoarse. "You have back pain, and you work so hard. That new mattress was for you. And now it's ruined by that creature."
My heart melted.
He wasn't mad about the disrespect to him. He was mad because she tainted something he got for me.
"It's okay, Damon," I said softly, kissing his cheek. "We can still use the mattress. I love it."
"No," he said firmly.
"She touched it. It's unclean."
I forgot about his extreme emotional cleanliness.
"What do we do with it then?"
"Burn it," he said, dead serious. "I'd rather destroy it than give it to her. It's disgusting."
"I'm ordering a new custom one. Only for us."
God, I love this man. And his wallet.