Chapter 1
When I got back from my business trip and went to my husband’s office, I found he’d suddenly swapped the whole floor-to-ceiling window for a giant full-length wall mirror.
Seeing that I was giving him a confused look, he ruffled my hair, a doting smile softening his eyes as he explained with a grin.
"That way, whenever you come sit with me while I work overtime, you’ll always have a mirror to use whenever you want to touch up your makeup."
I continued to look at him weirdly, but before I could say anything else, he added, "Don’t overthink it." He caressed my cheek next. "Oh, and I had our nutritionist simmer up some chicken soup to build your strength back. Drink it while it’s hot."
I didn’t say a word. I just smiled and walked over to the mirror, then twisted open the lid of the insulated soup bucket.
Thick, scorching steam billowed upward immediately, and two large, faint oval imprints slowly bloomed across the originally spotless mirror surface.
Tucked into the corner of the mirror, there was even a smudged lipstick stain to top it all off.
I subtly measured the height of the imprints with my hand and huffed a sharp, sarcastic laugh.
Five-foot-three. D-cup.
A woman pressed herself against this mirror right here in his office.
I could only guess that it was a result of some wild, risqué hook-up.
I pulled out a tissue, wiped the marks clean off the glass without a single change in my expression, then tapped my assistant’s number on my phone, deciding that I had an important call to make.
"Arrange for a construction team to come tonight. Replace this full-length mirror in Vice President Harrison’s office with a two-way mirror."
Then, thinking that wasn’t enough, I spoke again, "And, notify the media outlets that I'm holding a live-streamed press conference downstairs in three days."
After I sorted out the details with my assistant, a hollow, cold ache settled deep in my chest.
My husband, Gareth Harrison, and I had stuck together through thick and thin for eight years. Our kid was six now, and though the spark between us had fizzled out ages ago, that didn't mean this didn't cut me deeper than anything.
In eight years of marriage, Gareth had always been hailed as the perfect husband by everyone in our industry.
They knew that we were each other's first loves, going from high school classmates to being the married couple we are today.
We started with nothing, built Rivers Group from the ground up, and turned it into the powerhouse everyone knows now.
If that cloud of steam hadn't given his secret away, I'd still be none the wiser, fooled into thinking he was still that good man who arranged hot soup just to keep me healthy.
My phone vibrated in my hand.
I glanced down. It was a screenshot of an i********: Story that my assistant had sent me.
The story was from Bianca Moore, the poor student I'd sponsored, who was now working as Gareth's personal secretary.
The photo was a mirror selfie she'd taken right here in this office.
She was wearing an oversized men's button-down that hit just high enough to leave nothing below it on display, and a faint red love bite peeked out right above her collarbone.
'My boss said this mirror's all mine from now on.
I dragged in a deep breath, but my stomach churned like I'd just swallowed a whole fly after reading the caption.
Bianca Moore was a poor college student I took under my wing three years ago.
Back then, she'd cried and begged me for a chance, and swore she'd pay me back for my kindness one day.
I felt bad for her. I didn't just pay for her entire degree. I even bent the rules to get her an internship at Rivers Group.
Who would've thought her way of repaying me was to climb into my husband's bed?
Gareth finished his shower and walked out. When he saw me still staring at my phone, he ambled up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.
"Honey, what's got you so focused over here?"
"Nothing. Just looking at the new secretary we hired. She seems really energetic."
I turned off my screen without letting my hand even tremble, then spun around to face him.
A flicker of unease crossed his face, but he quickly smoothed it out into a natural and easy smile.
"Oh, you mean Bianca Moore, right? That girl’s really hardworking, yeah. Since you sponsored her, I figured I’d look out for her a little extra."
"Is that so?" I stared back at him with a dry, mocking half-smile. "Is the kind of ‘looking out’ that you’re talking about means she gets to pick out your underwear for you now?"
I could feel the wave of panic that went through him, but he got his expression back under control before I could even call him on it.
"Honey, aren’t you misunderstanding something? I got my clothes dirty on that last business trip. She just dropped them off at the dry cleaners for me. It must have gotten mixed up back then, that’s all." He gently grabbed my hand, playing the role of the doting husband once more. "Don’t overthink this. You’re the only one I love."
When he dipped his head, leaning in to kiss me, I tilted my face out of the way, rejecting his advances.
"I’m exhausted. Let’s just go to sleep," I said.
He froze for a beat, then awkwardly pulled his hand back. "Alright, get some rest then. I’ll go to the study to handle some work emails."
As I watched him scramble away like a thief with his tail between his legs, ice pooled deeper and deeper in my chest.
Handle some emails, my ass.
He was probably off running to comfort that poor, wronged little mistress of his.
I didn’t call him out on his lie.
Instead, I typed out a message to my lawyer friend.
Diane: Find out every single asset Bianca Moore has under her name, and trace all of Gareth’s money movements over the last six months.
Diane: Also, draw up a divorce agreement for me. The terms… make him walk out of this marriage with nothing.
They want to sneak around and play with fire right under my nose? Fine. I’ll give them exactly what they’re begging for.
