I was cleaning the house on the second day after my husband left for a business trip when I casually said to our smart speaker, “Alexa, play some music.” Instead, an unfamiliar sultry female voice came through the speaker. “Sure thing, my little moonbeam. Also, a reminder for James – don’t forget Aria’s birthday surprise tonight~” I froze, the music suddenly grating to my ears. My husband’s name is James. Who was Aria? I immediately called James: “Did you mess with our smart speaker at home?” There was a pause on the other end before he laughed it off, “Oh, a friend came over to visit the other day. Maybe they connected their account. Why?” I laughed and said it was nothing. After hanging up, I pulled up the speaker’s login history and took a cab straight to the company address associated with that unfamiliar account. The taxi stopped in front of the “Starlight Design” building. I looked up. The glass curtain wall glared dazzlingly in the sunlight, much like the company’s aggressive momentum in the industry over the past two years. Our main competitor at “Dreamscape Design”. The receptionist was very professional, not giving me the cold shoulder despite me being from a rival company. She simply made an internal call in a businesslike manner. A few minutes later, a girl in a white dress walked out quickly. She had waist-length hair and a bare face, looking clean and innocent. Aria. When she saw me, there was a clear moment of panic in her eyes, like a startled deer, but she quickly composed herself and squeezed out a shy smile. “Hello, may I ask who you are?” “About the smart speaker,” I got straight to the point, looking at her calmly, “The login records show it was your account.” “Oh, that speaker!” She had a sudden realization, then scratched her head embarrassedly, “That belongs to my roommate. She used my phone to log in a few days ago, said her membership had expired and wanted to use mine for a bit. Did it cause you any trouble? I’m so sorry!” Her words were watertight, both distancing herself and appearing innocent and naive. If I didn’t know James’s personality, I might have believed her. That man, arrogant and sensitive, how could he let an unrelated intern use a personal account to log into a device at home? My gaze slowly moved from her face full of innocence to her slender wrist. There was a silver bracelet. Two irregular circular links interlocked, with a small letter “J” engraved on one of the links. That was the gift I had personally designed and had a craftsman friend make for James on our wedding anniversary last year. J for James. The only one of its kind in the world. Aria noticed my gaze and instinctively tried to hide her hand behind her back. But I smiled, stepping forward with an almost gentle tone: “That’s a unique bracelet. Did your boyfriend give it to you? He has great taste.” Her face went white in an instant, her lips trembling, unable to utter a word. That was enough. I didn’t look at her again and turned to leave. Getting into the return taxi, I immediately called my best friend Emma, the best divorce lawyer in the industry. As soon as the call connected, her loud voice came through: “Well, well, if it isn’t the great designer Olivia! Did the sun rise from the west today? You actually remembered me?” “I need a favor,” I said, watching the streetscape rapidly receding outside the window, my voice unnaturally calm. “Look into someone for me. An intern at Starlight Design named Aria. Also, dig up all of James’s financial transactions and hotel records for the past six months. Don’t miss a single one.” Emma went quiet for two seconds, dropping her joking tone: “…Are we raiding the house?” “Worse than that.” After hanging up, the car fell into dead silence. It wasn’t long before James’s call came through. I looked at the word “Husband” on the screen, finding it incredibly ironic. I took a deep breath before answering. “Olivia, what’s wrong?” His customarily gentle and refined voice came through the receiver, with just the right amount of concern, “I heard from Emma that you asked her to look into something. Are you having trouble at work?” Look, he even planted a spy so quickly. I pushed down the surging emotions and said in the most normal tone: “No, I just suddenly miss you very much.” On the other end of the phone, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, then chuckled softly. “Silly girl, I miss you too. Once I finish this project, I’ll fly back to be with you right away, my little moonbeam.” The words “little moonbeam” clearly pierced my ears. My grip on the phone suddenly tightened. So, I wasn’t the only moonbeam. Or perhaps, I never was.
Emma’s efficiency was astonishing. In just half an hour, my phone vibrated. A link, with a comment: “The year’s best white lotus actress in her prime, the evidence chain is so complete I almost feel bad charging you full price. Enjoy.” I clicked on it. It was Aria’s social media account, set to public. The latest post was a close-up of her wrist, wearing that all-too-familiar J bracelet, with the caption: “The moon races towards you, Mr. C.” My “little moonbeam” nickname, my J bracelet, had now become another woman’s trophies. I scrolled down expressionlessly. One photo’s background was our study at home. Aria was smiling innocently with her face cupped in her hands, behind her was my rare architectural atlas I had bought from Italy. “Absorbing knowledge in Mr. C’s study, I feel like I’m becoming smarter too!” In another photo, she was holding a pen, writing and drawing on a blueprint. That was the 30th birthday gift I gave James, a limited edition collaboration. “The pen Mr. C gave me works so well, he said my hands deserve the best pen.” There was another one at our favorite private kitchen, with dishes I loved to order. “Secret base with Mr. C, he says I’m the only harbor where he can completely relax.” Every photo, every word, was like a precise scalpel, cutting into my softest memories one by one. Until I scrolled to a post from three days ago. In the photo, Aria was holding a printed design draft, smiling triumphantly. The caption read: “Mr. C stayed up all night helping me revise this. He said I’m the most talented designer he’s ever seen, and I’ll definitely win the ‘Skyline Center’ project. Fighting!” “Skyline Center”. That was the project our “Dreamscape” had poured all our hearts into, preparing for a full six months. It was the most important milestone in my career. I suddenly stood up from the sofa, grabbed my car keys, and rushed out the door. The company was empty late at night. I unlocked it with my fingerprint and went straight to James’s office. His computer was still on the screensaver, our wedding photo where he was smiling tenderly and affectionately. I felt a wave of nausea. I hit the keyboard, the screen lit up, and a password input box popped up. I tried my birthday, error. Tried our wedding anniversary, still error. I laughed coldly and entered Aria’s birthday. “Welcome.” The desktop was clean and tidy. I immediately spotted that encrypted folder. I clicked on it, inside was the final proposal for “Skyline Center”, every detail crystallizing months of hard work from me and the team. And next to it, there lay another folder, named with just one letter – A. I opened it. The proposal inside was almost identical to ours, with only minor adjustments to a few key load-bearing structures and design highlights, avoiding core patents while retaining the essence of the plan. The name signed on the proposal: Aria. He not only cheated but was about to steal my life’s work, our company’s future, to pave a golden path for his mistress. A violent churning in my stomach, I gripped the cold desk tightly to keep from collapsing. So, jealousy and betrayal could truly distort a man to this extent.
At the “Skyline Center” project bidding conference, the venue was buzzing with noise. I sat in an inconspicuous corner, watching Starlight Design’s representative walk onto the stage. It was Aria. Today she wore a well-tailored business suit, her long hair tied up, face delicately made up, shedding her previous innocent look for a more professional elite aura. She took a deep breath and began to explain the design concept. “My design inspiration comes from the ‘Eye of the City’. We hope it’s not just a cold building, but a living entity that breathes with this city, witnessing its development…” These words, every single one, were what I had said to James countless times during late nights, drinking coffee with bloodshot eyes. I once thought it was the most tacit soul resonance between husband and wife. Now I know it was just my one-person show, and he was the most patient thief. More ironically, James was sitting in the VIP guest seat of the judges’ panel. Suit and tie, hair neatly combed, exactly the elite image I was most familiar with. He listened with extreme attention, nodding from time to time, his eyes looking at Aria with a light I had never seen before – a kind of regarding the other as a treasure, eager to show off to the whole world. He completely ignored me sitting in the corner of the audience, as if I were just an insignificant background. My phone vibrated in my palm. It was a message from Emma. “Need me to bring a brick and crash the scene?” Looking at the screen, the corners of my tightly pressed lips actually curved slightly. I replied with two words: “Stand by.” On stage, Aria’s speech reached its climax, the PPT showing the final effect drawing, exactly the one stolen from my computer. A low murmur of amazement rippled through the audience. The speech ended to thunderous applause. The host walked on stage: “Thank you for Ms. Aria’s brilliant presentation. Now let’s invite our special guest judge, a very senior figure in our industry, Mr. James from Dreamscape Design, to give a few comments on this proposal.” The microphone was passed to James. He cleared his throat, his gaze falling tenderly on Aria, and began to speak. “To be honest, I’m very impressed.” “Ms. Aria’s design perfectly balances artistic aesthetics and practical functionality, especially the minor adjustments to several key load-bearing structures, very bold, very inspired.” He used the word “inspired”. The word he used to describe Aria, to hurt me. He paused, his gaze sweeping across the audience. “I believe this work is undoubtedly today’s best.” Applause erupted again, even more enthusiastic than before. At that moment, my world went silent except for the dull thudding of my heart in my chest. The host smiled and took over: “Thank you for Mr. Chen’s high praise! It seems our ‘Starlight Design’ is determined to win this time! So, does anyone in the audience or any of the judges have questions for Ms. Aria?” The venue fell silent. After this “authority” James had stamped his approval, there seemed to be nothing left to ask. Aria bowed on stage, her face unable to hide her pride and joy. I put away my phone and stood up during the pause before people were about to applaud again. The movement wasn’t big, but it instantly attracted everyone’s attention. The host was stunned for a moment: “This lady, may I ask who you are?” James’s smile froze.
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