President Julian Vance always loved bringing his friends home for dinner, claiming it made us feel more like a family. As I served a table full of dishes I’d cooked, one of his friends grinned and spoke up. “Mrs. Vance truly has the grace of the one and only Mrs. Vance!” My expression didn’t change. I playfully asked, “Oh? So there’s some petty little ‘other woman’ you’re comparing me to?” His friends froze, a flicker of panic in their eyes. Julian, however, just laughed and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Don’t listen to their nonsense. Besides you, who else in this world is worthy of being my wife?” Watching his nonchalant act, I smiled. But as I turned to walk away, I dialed a number. “Alex, Julian Vance is cheating. Let him rot in prison.” My brother on the other end of the line was silent for three seconds. “Clara, are you sure? Julian, he couldn’t have…” I slipped off the wedding ring from my left hand. The diamond dug painfully into my palm, a sharp echo of the pain in my heart. “We’ve been married for ten years. Every single one of his cufflinks, I had custom-made in Italy.” “But today, he’s wearing a cheap plastic flower. Alex, do you still think I’m wrong?” “You know I won’t tolerate any injustice. Expose all his dirty laundry to the world. And while you’re at it, get me the best lawyer. I want a divorce.” Hearing my words, Alex grew furious. “Consider it done.” Half an hour later, my phone pinged with an encrypted file. I clicked open the first photo: a sweet-faced girl in a white shirt, looking utterly charmed, was clinging to a man’s arm, her face beaming. On the wrist peeking out from her sleeve, I saw it—a wolf’s head tattoo, exactly like Julian’s. I didn’t hesitate. I immediately drove to his company. Minutes later, a girl with long, straight black hair, dressed in a white skirt, hurried out. I glanced at her employee badge: Willow Hayes. The moment she saw me, her face instantly drained of color, and she instinctively yanked her hands behind her back. But I still saw it: a custom-made Swiss watch. Last year, around my birthday, I received a notification for a Swiss purchase. A watch worth four-hundred-thousand dollars. A necklace valued at seven-thousand. The necklace was still carefully kept at home. The watch was on her wrist. I let out a cold laugh, cutting straight to the chase. “Ms. Hayes, your husband seems to have the same taste as mine. Even your custom-made watches have the exact same design.” Willow trembled at my words. Her painted lips gaped and closed for what felt like an eternity before she finally managed to stutter, “Y-yes… I guess men just have similar taste.” Her knuckles were white as she clutched the fabric of her dress. “Enough. Stop pretending.” “You’re the one they call the ‘other woman,’ aren’t you?” Seeing me lay it all out, Willow began to tremble even more violently, her panic palpable. “Please, don’t misunderstand. Mr. Vance just had another low blood sugar episode and fainted, and I merely helped him. His friends thought I was very attentive, and they were just joking around.” “I’m truly sorry if I caused any misunderstanding.” With that, she even exaggeratedly bowed ninety degrees to me. She put on the most pathetic, ‘poor me’ act. If I hadn’t witnessed her manipulative tactics with Julian myself, I might have actually fallen for it. Half a month ago, she posted a video on Ins. A man was swiping his card at a luxury car dealership next to a Porsche. Her caption read: “A man’s love is where his money goes.” Meanwhile, I was at home, burning with a fever so high I was drifting in and out of consciousness. I called Julian, asking him to take me to the hospital. He sounded flustered for a second, but then his voice turned hoarse, as if he was suppressing something. “Honey, I’ll have the housekeeper take you. I have something urgent here I can’t leave.” An hour later, I was in the hospital being resuscitated, suffering from pneumonia. She, however, posted a photo of herself lying in a car, a man’s perfectly sculpted abs visible, adorned with suggestive red marks. The caption: “New car and you, both forever branded as mine.” When Julian finally showed up, his shirt buttons were haphazardly fastened. He slumped by my bedside, his eyes red. Back then, I naively thought he was genuinely worried about me. But now I knew it was just the cheap guilt of a man who’d been cheating. A wave of nausea washed over me. *This* was the kind of cheap trash Julian thought was worth betraying me for? Too disgusted to watch her pathetic act any longer, I turned and left. But just as I got into my car, Julian called. The moment I answered, his voice was panicked. “Why did you suddenly decide to come to the office?”
“Why?” I started the car, asking casually. “Just had a contract to discuss, that’s all. Is there something you’re afraid I’ll find out?” Julian didn’t seem to expect such a question. His breathing hitched, and after a few seconds of silence, his voice softened, adopting his usual coaxing tone. “Honey, what are you talking about? I don’t have any secrets from you. It’s just that my office is a mess, and I’d have asked someone to tidy it up if I knew you were coming.” “Besides, how could I ever betray you? You can check anything you want.” Hearing that, I was somewhat surprised. Willow hadn’t told him I’d confronted her. I flipped through the evidence on my phone, listening to him rationalize. Three gigabytes of data, every single day somehow linked to Julian. Last Valentine’s Day, he claimed to be on a business trip abroad and couldn’t call, but he was actually with Willow, watching the Northern Lights. When my father was critically ill, I called him over thirty times, all unanswered. He was celebrating Willow’s birthday then. “I believe you, but what about that watch?” Seeing me bring it up, Julian seemed to relax a little. His voice moved closer to the receiver, a forced intimacy in his tone. “That watch? I fainted at the office, and Willow happened to pass by and took me to the hospital.” He paused, then added, “She stayed with me all night, so I bought her a watch as a thank-you. I just forgot to tell you about it.” Forgot? He seemed to forget a lot. Not just that, but also the three days and nights they spent in a hotel penthouse suite that same night. He forgot that too. A cold laugh echoed in my mind. “She’s quite meticulous, isn’t she? Even the black shirt you wore the day you fainted—she washed it, ironed it, and returned it spotless the next day.” Julian on the other end clearly stiffened, his breathing momentarily catching. Then he chuckled, trying to brush it off. “Isn’t she though? Such a thoughtful young woman.” “See, you’re always so suspicious. You’re the only one in my heart, honey.” His voice was close to the receiver, full of forced intimacy. “After this busy period, I’ll take you to the Maldives for a make-up vacation, just the two of us. How does that sound?” That gentle tone used to melt my heart, but now, it only made me sick. “Sounds great.” I gazed out at the passing city lights, my voice as calm as if discussing the weather. “But you focus on your important business first. Don’t let me get in the way.” “Nothing is more important than spending time with you, honey.” Julian’s voice held an eager, pleading note, but my heart grew colder and colder. Not because Julian had betrayed me and cheated, but because I couldn’t believe they’d been putting on this act right under my nose for so long. My grip on the steering wheel tightened. I fought the urge to confront Julian then and there. I wanted him to admit his relationship with Willow in front of everyone, then utterly ruin both of them. I mumbled a few noncommittal words and ended the call. Just then, Willow’s Ins account updated. The screen showed her in a complex, diamond-studded wedding gown, her eyes sparkling with joy. “Another mistress tried to cause trouble today, wanting to take my place. Mr. Vance is making it up to me—he’s finally going to marry me!” “I only mentioned wanting a castle wedding, and he bought me an entire castle!” She hooked her lips, and the camera casually swept over a property deed. “And these wineries! He actually wants me to manage them!” “How could a little airhead like me possibly do that? Luckily, Mr. Vance promised to accompany me to assert my authority, so no one tries to bully me because I’m young!” Watching the video, seeing the property deed with my French name printed on it, a wave of pure fury surged through me. Those wineries were a coming-of-age gift from my brother.
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