Leo Wilson quickly picked up my daughter, who looked thoroughly annoyed.

"Mom, I was in the middle of packing when Uncle Leo dragged me over here. Weren't you coming home tonight anyway? I've still got half my Disneyland clothes to pack! Grandma won't lift a finger to help, and the nanny's just as useless."


I crouched down and pulled my pouting daughter into a hug.

"Sweetie, Grandma and the nanny have their own stuff going on! Besides, it's good for you to learn some independence! Listen, Dad just called—he's stuck working late all week and can't take you to Shanghai. But guess what? Once I wrap things up here, I'll take you myself! We'll have some quality time together!"

"For real, Mom? Awesome! Let's bring Dad too! Don't worry about rushing—I can wait a few days, as long as you're the one taking me."


She adores Chris. God, how crushed would she be if she knew her father was cheating?

Better to shield her from this mess for now.


Despite his family's obsession with having a son, Chris had always been good to our daughter.

Besides, she's just a kid. No need to shatter her world just yet.

I thought about that damning video with Chris's distinctive thumb.

This would be my first piece of evidence in the arsenal I was building.

I downloaded the video and asked my best friend to dig into the org chart at Chris's workplace.

If I was going to destroy him, I needed to know exactly where he stood.

I wanted his name to become dirt.

I also reached out to a detective and a lawyer in my network.

The lawyer's response hit me like a bucket of ice water.

"Ms. Morgan, let's be clear—courts only care about smoking gun evidence, like catching them in bed together. And even with that, it's nearly impossible to leave the guilty party with nothing. Those TV courtroom dramas? Pure fiction."

"Have you handled cases like mine before? What do people usually do?"

"Ms. Morgan, I recommend exploring... alternative strategies. The law has its limits, but there are other ways to make someone voluntarily surrender their claims."

If that's how the game is played, then I'll show no mercy.

Chris and his little girlfriend worked for the same company, so they'd be walking on eggshells at work.

Chris had always been obsessed with his job and reputation. His mother never missed a chance to brag:

"My son works for the government. He can make your problems disappear with just one phone call."

In all our years together, I'd never once seen Chris help anyone with his supposed connections.

When family members needed work, he'd panic about colleagues discovering his "less fortunate" relatives.

He'd fret that sticking his neck out might jeopardize his precious position. Every single time, I was the one who pulled strings.

Since you treasure that job so much, I'll start there. Let's see how you handle the spotlight.

Chris, don't fold so easily. The game's just beginning.

I hired a detective to shadow Chris around the clock, and sure enough, within days, he slipped up.

"Ms. Morgan, here's what I've captured over the past few days."

I plugged in the USB drive. They were careful—always leaving the office at least ten minutes apart.

She never rode in his car or arrived with him. Only when they thought they were alone would they whisper to each other.

The detective had done impressive work, capturing not just photos but crystal-clear audio around the clock.

"Chris, Chris,"

her saccharine voice cooed through the speaker, sending chills down my spine.

So this is what a homewrecker sounds like.

In her videos, she was undeniably gorgeous. With looks like that, she could've done anything—why choose to be someone's dirty secret?

These two were constantly finding excuses to huddle together.

Their conversations ranged from restaurant recommendations to detailed hotel bed reviews.

Clearly they'd "tested" quite a few hotel beds!

Not much of a government salary, yet somehow affording luxury hotels!

I pinched pennies on business trips, while these two were living it up in five-star suites!

Their conversations were so nauseating they'd make anyone's skin crawl.

Chris likely hadn't breathed a word to his parents about our impending divorce.

I bet he'd figured out by now that his girlfriend was behind that fake account.

But now I had caught him red-handed, and there was no wiggling out of this one.

He still came home right on schedule, feeding his mother lies about me taking our daughter on outings.

His mother never questioned it, too busy nagging him about producing a second child.

Have what? Let your little girlfriend pop out your precious son!

But Chris must have sensed I was plotting something.

He'd started keeping his distance from her in public, and the photos only showed them sharing meals.