It seems I need to come up with a plan.

I sent Chris the video I'd downloaded—just a glimpse of his hand, but unmistakably his.


After giving him enough time to watch it, I called.

"Chris," I said,

cutting straight to the point.


"You've seen the video, right? That's your hand—no denying it. I'm sure you know what Kate Wilson did by now. Some fresh-faced college grad trying to frame me to wreck our marriage. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt that you didn't put her up to it. You must've been furious when you saw that fake account—just as furious as I was seeing your hand in Kate's video."

"Emily, I swear I knew nothing about that account. If you hadn't told me, I would've been completely fooled by Kate too. I tried calling you earlier but got no answer. I've already set Kate straight these past few days. She's just a manipulative, greedy woman. Emily, can you trust me on this?"


Cleared things up?

If I hadn't hired that detective, I might have actually fallen for his act!

So that's his game? Now that he can't prove I'm having an affair or force me out empty-handed, he wants to keep living in my house and spending my money?

Not a chance in hell!

"Our daughter's still young. If you're genuinely sorry, maybe we can avoid divorce,"

I said, playing the forgiving wife.

If he didn't believe I'd lowered my defenses, I might never catch him in the act.

"Of course, Emily. Why don't you come home tonight? Mom's been asking about you—says she misses you."

Misses me? I've heard every word on those recordings, and not once did anyone mention missing me.

I made up a story about sending our daughter to my mother's place, saying only I would be coming home.

If I was diving into this cesspool, my daughter didn't need to be dragged down with me.

Sure enough, barely two days after moving back, the detective called.

"Ms. Morgan, we've got movement. They're meeting at the Moonlight Hotel this afternoon."

I'd been avoiding Chris like the plague. The thought of his hands on another woman made my stomach turn.

The gulf between us was obvious, and he seemed just as uncomfortable, so we steered clear of any intimacy.

Every day, enduring his fake smiles while his mother droned on about giving them a grandson—

I couldn't wait to boot them both to the curb.

Now that my chance was coming, I felt my nerves kicking in.

They'd booked a hotel room—they weren't going there to play chess, were they?

People don't book hotel rooms to break up.

Suddenly, bile rose in my throat.

The thought of seeing my husband tangled up with another woman made me physically ill.

After pulling myself together, I called my best friend to back me up for the confrontation.

With something like this, hesitation is the enemy. Tonight was my golden opportunity.

I double-checked my bag: marriage certificate, ID card, and household registration book—all safely retrieved from home.

I'd even brought a copy of Chris's ID. Meanwhile, my best friend showed up wielding a baseball bat.

I'd been anxious, but seeing her ready for battle instantly calmed me.

"Put that away. We're trying to nail them, not get arrested ourselves."

My friend swung the bat playfully, mimicking breaking Chris's kneecaps.

"Don't sweat it! I'll own it if I break his legs. A few days in lockup would be worth it to see that bastard crawl!"

I hadn't cried once through this whole ordeal, but her loyalty made my eyes well up. In this world, men come and go, but true friends are rare.

To hide my tears, I brushed past her and grabbed the bat from her hand.

"Let's not go overboard. Everything we need is in the car. Let's roll."

For ironclad evidence, I'd hired a professional cameraman and had Leo bring a second camera as backup.

Leo had been my right hand through this whole mess. We were close enough that I kept him in the loop about everything—the lawyer, the detective—he'd helped with most of the legwork.

At the hotel reception, I methodically presented my ID, our marriage certificate, household registration book, and Chris's ID copy, flanked by my lawyer and the detective.

The young receptionist handled it like a pro—clearly not her first rodeo. She verified the documents and had a colleague double-check them.

"One moment while I notify the duty manager."

Soon, the duty manager appeared, trailed by several staff members with barely concealed excitement in their eyes.

"Ms. Morgan, we've confirmed Mr. Johnson is currently in our hotel. Here's a key card."

As we walked away, the staff trailed behind us like ducklings. I didn't object.

After all, I wasn't the one who should feel ashamed. Let these young women see what men are capable of—maybe it would save them some heartache down the road.

The detective held the listening device close. As the sounds from inside grew unmistakable, I swiped the key card—

The cameraman and I slipped in silently. The two of them were so wrapped up in each other they didn't even notice our entrance.

The camera had been rolling since the lobby, and now captured the two bodies tangled on the bed. Chris sensed the light spilling in from the hallway and mumbled:

"Why's it so bright all of a sudden?"

He turned and froze when he saw me in the doorway, camera pointed at him.

"Emily!"

He yelped, leaping off the girl. In his panic to cover himself, he yanked away the blanket, leaving his mistress completely exposed to the camera.

I motioned for Leo to move in.

"Leo, get in there and get a close-up."

I flipped on the overhead lights.

The mistress scrambled frantically for something to cover herself.

"Sis... sister?"

Leo's camera hand dropped like a stone.

Kate froze mid-motion, sheet clutched to her chest.

"Brother, what... what are you doing here?"

Leo stepped forward, helped her secure the sheet, then cracked his palm across her face.

"What the hell are you doing? You knowingly became someone's side piece! Did Mom and Dad break their backs getting you this job just so you could screw around with a married man?"

Chris couldn't care less about Kate in that moment.

Dragging the blanket behind him, he stumbled toward me and dropped to his knees.

"Emily, it's all her fault. I was going to end it completely, but she seduced me. It's her, Emily. She's to blame for everything."

I signaled the cameraman. With Leo out of commission, would we still get enough footage?

My best friend, reading my mind, stepped over the tangled blankets and snatched the camera from Leo's limp hands, aiming it straight at Kate.

I almost warned her to keep Leo out of frame, but she was already zeroed in on Kate, so I turned to check the other camera angle.

"Get the whole scene, but keep Leo out of the shot," I instructed the cameraman.

The cameraman repositioned as I pulled out my phone, crouching to capture Chris's pathetic face.

"Is that right? Then let me see just how irresistible this woman is, to have completely bewitched my oh-so-virtuous husband."

Chris made no move to defend Kate. He just stayed on his knees, babbling excuses.

I reached for Kate's sheet, but Leo caught my wrist. "Ms. Morgan, please, let my sister keep some dignity."

I hesitated, but my friend was faster, ripping away the sheet. "Dignity? Wake up, Leo. You don't even know who doctored those photos of you and Emily, do you?"

Leo's expression shifted as realization dawned, his eyes boring into Kate.

"Brother, don't hate me. This was the only way I could think of to break them up. I'm pregnant."

Chris shot to his feet.

Abandoning his blanket, he scrambled to the bed on his knees.

"You're pregnant? Since when? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you? What good would that do? Would you divorce Emily and make her hand over her money? You kept saying the house was yours, but I knew the truth—Emily paid for everything!"

"It just happens to be in your name! Your salary's barely more than mine! How could you support our baby? Didn't I tell you to fight for the assets? Did you get them?"

"I had to take matters into my own hands to protect my baby! I was stupid, couldn't think of anything better. Chris, when you were chasing me, you swore all those assets were yours."

"You promised you'd divorce your wife and marry me once I got pregnant. What happened to that?"

"Now you're throwing me under the bus. Between us, who seduced who first?"

Chris looked possessed.

"You're pregnant! You're pregnant! It's a boy, it has to be a boy! Emily, Katie's pregnant. Please have mercy. If you don't want a divorce, fine. After Katie gives birth, we'll raise the child together. Emily, you won't have to go through childbirth."

Chris was raving like a lunatic, swinging between tears and manic laughter.

"Katie, if you give me a son, I'll pay you. Name your price. My wife's loaded. Don't you want to climb the ladder at work? I'll recommend you. Hell, take my position! Katie, just give me a son, and I'll do anything you want."

What a twisted little scheme he'd cooked up.

I watched Chris's pathetic display with ice in my veins. My best friend cracked him across the back of the head.

"Chris! Are you out of your damn mind? Who do you think Emily is? You think you're so special she won't divorce your sorry ass? The only reason you're not bleeding on the floor right now is because of Emily!"

The lawyer silently offered me a ruler.

It wouldn't do serious damage, but it would certainly sting.

But I refused to waste even that much energy on these two.

Seeing my refusal, my friend balanced the camera in one hand and snatched the ruler with the other, whacking Chris repeatedly.

"Emily, beat me if you want. Just let Katie have this baby. Hit me all you want—just let me live long enough to see my son."

Kate had turned eerily calm. She unhurriedly gathered her clothes, dressed herself meticulously, then bowed deeply to me.

"Sister Emily, I know I've hurt you, but my family is desperately poor. They spent everything they had to help me land this job. My brother's not getting any younger and can't even afford to marry. I know I was wrong, but without this, who would want a penniless girl like me?"

She gathered Chris's scattered clothes, dressing him like a child, then pulled him down to kneel beside her.

"Mrs.Emily, I'm begging you for mercy."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

Seriously? Now she's playing the victim card?

"Kate, I never forced you into anything, and I'm not here to ruin you. You dug this hole yourself, one shovelful at a time. I didn't come here to hurt you. As for Chris, I have zero interest in fighting over him. If you want him, he's all yours."

I took the pre-signed divorce papers from my lawyer and thrust them at Chris.

"Chris, sign this and you can make babies with whoever you want. Not my circus, not my monkeys."

Chris took the papers and scrutinized every line.

"Emily, you can't seriously expect me to walk away with nothing? I deserve credit for our lifestyle. And my mother's not getting any younger—you can't send her back to that rundown shack in the countryside. Emily, let's be reasonable—split everything fifty-fifty like you suggested before. You can have our daughter."

I looked down at the pathetic pair kneeling before me.

"I offered you a fair deal, and you spat in my face. Now you want to negotiate? Don't you think that ship has sailed?"

"Emily, that's not fair. The house is in Chris's name, after all. You've been together for years. He deserves half, at minimum."

Kate rose to her feet, squaring her shoulders like she was ready for battle.

"One time offer, Chris. Sign or don't."

"Emily, I can't sign this. If I do, we'll be destitute. Katie's carrying my son."

Chris suddenly brightened, climbing to his feet.

"Emily, I've done my homework. What you just filmed isn't legally obtained and won't hold up in court. If we go before a judge, the assets will be split fifty-fifty. So go ahead, sue me if you want."

He looked smug, and he wasn't entirely wrong—our footage wouldn't stand up in court.

But as ammunition to destroy his reputation? It was perfect.

I stared at their defiant "you can't touch us" expressions.

I took the divorce agreement and ripped it to pieces.

Leo moved to reason with Kate, but I was already heading for the door.

"I gave you both a chance."

I pushed through the gawking crowd and headed straight for my car.