He Cheated & Stole My Work, I Ruined Him

It was the second day of my husband's business trip. As I was tidying up the house, I casually called out to our smart speaker, "Alex, play some music." Then, a strange, sultry female voice dripped from the speaker. "Sure thing, my moonlit. And Rick, don't forget Mandy's birthday surprise tonight." The music suddenly sounded grating. My husband's name is Broderick Wilde. But who on earth was Mandy? I immediately dialed Broderick's number. "Did you tamper with the smart speaker at home?" There was a brief pause on the other end before he gave an easy laugh, as if nothing was wrong. "Oh, a friend came over a few days ago. He probably logged into his account on it. Why, what's up?" "Nothing," I lied, keeping my tone light. After hanging up, I pulled up the speaker's login history, grabbed my coat, and took a cab straight to the registered address of that unfamiliar account. ***** The taxi pulled up in front of the sleek skyscraper housing "Stellar Design." I looked up. The glass curtain wall caught the brilliant sun, dazzling enough to make my eyes ache. It was a glaring, aggressive brightness—much like the aggressive momentum the firm had built in the industry over the past two years. They were the main rival of my own design firm, "Dreamweave Studio." The receptionist was the picture of professionalism. She didn't put on a cold face just because I was the head of a competitor's firm; she simply called upstairs to check. A few minutes later, a young woman in a white dress walked out briskly. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her soft, minimal makeup gave her a clean, utterly innocent look. Her name was Amanda Morphew. The instant her eyes met mine, a flicker of sheer panic darted across her face, like a startled deer caught in the headlights. But she composed herself almost instantly, forcing a shy, sweet smile. "Hello! How can I help you?" "It's about the smart speaker," I said, cutting straight to the chase, my eyes locked on hers with a cool, unbothered calm. "The login records trace back to your account." "Oh, that speaker!" Light seemed to dawn on her face, and she scratched her head with an embarrassed giggle. "That belongs to my roommate! She used my phone to log in a couple of days ago because her subscription ran out and she wanted to leech off mine. Did it cause any trouble for you? I'm so, so sorry!" Her explanation was seamlessly airtight. It washed her hands of the matter completely while painting her as nothing more than a harmless, naive girl. Had I not known Broderick so well, I might have actually bought it. Broderick was arrogant and intensely private. He would never allow an unfamiliar intern to log into his personal account on his home device. My gaze drifted slowly from her innocent face down to her delicate wrist. She was wearing a silver bracelet. Two irregular interlocking rings formed the charm, and on one of them, a tiny letter B was delicately engraved. It was a gift I had personally designed, drawn, and commissioned a custom jeweler friend to make for Broderick for our wedding anniversary last year. The letter B stood for Broderick. That bracelet was the only one of its kind in the entire world. Noticing where my eyes were resting, Amanda instinctively pulled her arm back, trying to tuck her hand behind her waist. A quiet smile touched my lips. I took a step closer, my tone dripping with gentle warmth. "What an exquisite bracelet. Did your boyfriend give it to you? He certainly has impeccable taste." Her face drained of color in an instant. Her lips trembled, but not a single word came out. That was all I needed to see. Without giving her another glance, I turned on my heel and walked out. Once I was back in the taxi, I called my best friend, Candice Benton. She was hands down the sharpest, most ruthless divorce lawyer in the city. The second she picked up, her boisterous voice boomed through the speaker. "Well, well! Look who finally remembered me. What brings the brilliant star designer to my line?" "I need a favor," I said. My voice was chillingly calm as I watched the cityscape blur past the window. "Look up an intern at Stellar Design named Amanda Morphew. And I want everything on Broderick from the past six months—every transaction, every financial trail, every single hotel room reservation. I don't want a single penny or booking missed." Candice went silent for two seconds. When she spoke again, all traces of her teasing tone were gone. "Are you declaring war?" "Worse," I replied. After hanging up, the inside of the cab fell dead quiet. It didn't take long before my phone buzzed again. It was Broderick. Looking at the word "Hubby" flashing on the screen felt like a slap in the face. I took a deep, steadying breath before answering. "Lissa, hey. Is everything okay?" His voice flowed through the receiver with its usual cultured, velvety smooth tone, laced with just the right touch of affectionate concern. "Candice mentioned you asked her to run some checks for you. Are you having trouble with work?" It was obvious he had some spies around me. I shoved down the roiling fury inside me and adopted my most ordinary, affectionate tone. "No, nothing like that. I just... missed you all of a sudden." There was a faint pause on the other end, as though he had finally relaxed. Then he laughed softly, his voice turning tender. "Silly girl. I miss you too. As soon as I wrap up this project, I'll catch the very first flight back to be with you, my moonlit." The word "moonlit" pierced my ear with excruciating clarity. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the phone tighter. Now, I knew I wasn't his only moon. Or perhaps, I had never been his moon to begin with.