He Hid His Mistress, I Exposed Him

Chapter 2

When I got home, Vincent had already changed into lounge wear and was sitting on the sofa, typing away intently at his laptop with a deep frown, putting on a show of being swamped with a million important things.

A few takeout containers sat on the dining table.

"You're back, babe?" He looked up, pulling a tired smile across his face. "I'm buried in work. Just finished a video conference. Haven't even had dinner yet."

I glanced at the leftover containers that were clearly meant for two, but didn't call him out on his lie.

"It's fine, keep working," I said smoothly. "By the way, our parents were saying it's been ages since we all sat down together. There's a family dinner tomorrow night at The White Table Restaurant. Don't be late."

A flicker of reluctance crossed Vincent's face. "Tomorrow night? I'm not sure if I can get away..."

"No matter how busy the project is, you still have to eat, don't you?" I cut in gently but firmly. "Our folks aren't getting any younger, and they've been looking forward to this. Everything's already all arranged."

He opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, but finally nodded, tight and unwilling. "Fine. I'll be there."

*****

The next evening, both sets of parents were already seated. But Vincent was nowhere to be seen.

His mother, Vanessa Drake, kept checking her watch, trying to smooth things over. "Vincent's just been run off his feet at the office. Do bear with us. Let's just give him a few more minutes."

It was half past seven when the private dining room door finally opened.

Vincent hurried in, breathless and sweating through his shirt.

"Sorry I'm late! Just had to patch a critical bug at the last minute!"

He dropped into the seat beside me. And I caught the faint, sharp scent of women's perfume clinging to him.

After everyone had finished a few rounds of drinks, Vincent's phone started buzzing against the table.

He picked it up quickly. "Hello? Manager Cole? Right now? I'm at a family dinner. Is it really that urgent?"

He pressed his hand over the mouthpiece and glanced around awkwardly. "Work emergency. I have to step out and take this call." Then he hurried out of the room.

I set down my utensils, picked up my phone, and idly scrolled through i********: while quietly opening the GPS tracking app I'd installed on Vincent's car a while back.

The bright red dot on the map showed clearly that his car was parked right at the house we'd bought together as our marital home.

"Mom, Dad. Take your time, enjoy the meal," I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder and stepping out with a calm smile.

I dialed Celeste as soon as I was out of earshot.

"Jane, the security footage from that building loops and writes over itself automatically," she said straight away. "Whoever set that up knew exactly what they were doing. Way too professional for Vincent to have pulled off on his own. And as for his bank records..."

Celeste paused briefly before going on. "On paper, everything looks clean. But over the last six months, he's been pulling out roughly $20,000 cash every month from a card he barely ever uses. All from ATMs within blocks of your marital home. Even more telling... he's been making regular payments from that same card to an upscale private maternity clinic."

"Got it." I ended the call and stood there in the evening breeze, the neon signs from the restaurant stretching my shadow long across the pavement.

Then my phone pinged. An anonymous message.

No words. Just a single photo.

In it, Vincent was leaning down, pressing a soft kiss to the clearly rounded belly of a young woman.