Chapter 4

"Get lost." I turned and got back in my car.

The car let out a low growl and sped off, leaving everything behind.

In the rearview mirror, Ryan's silhouette faded away, growing smaller and smaller.

I grabbed my phone and called my private investigator.

"I need you to look into someone for me,

"Vivian White. I want all her information, as detailed as possible.''

The voice on the phone was as professional and efficient as always.

"Ms. Winters, the information you requested will be sent to your email in fifteen minutes." the voice said.

I hung up the phone.

The car glided smoothly down the road, heading home.

The neon lights outside kept flickering across my face.

My expression was lost in the shadows, hard to make out.

I was home.

Andrew still wasn't back.

That was fine.

I didn't want to see his phony face.

I fired up my laptop and logged into my encrypted email.

A new email sat quietly in my inbox.

The attachment was huge.

I clicked it open.

Vivian's life unfolded before me, piece by piece, like a scroll slowly opening.

She came from humble beginnings and her family was nothing remarkable.

But she was fiercely ambitious, and her climb started all the way back in college.

Every boyfriend she had was just another stepping stone on her way up.

Each boyfriend was a rung on her ladder. Student council president, trust fund kid, department manager at her internship.

Her resume was impressive, polished to perfection.

Her romantic history was just as dazzling.

A few photos were attached to the file.

They showed her getting cozy with different men, each picture more intimate than the last.

The backgrounds were all over the place, but her smile never changed, always innocent and sugary sweet.

I kept scrolling through the file.

Until I finally spotted Andrew's name.

Their story had been going on since three years ago.

Three years ago, Vivian had just started at the company.

Andrew personally interviewed her.

According to the file, they had dinner together after the interview.

After that, they headed to a five-star hotel.

They got a room together.

My finger hovered over the mouse, frozen in place.

'So it started that early,' I thought to myself.

Three years ago was our fifth wedding anniversary.

That day, he called me and said there was an emergency meeting at work and he'd be working late.

He even told me not to wait up, to get some rest.

I really believed him back then.

I even cooked soup for him and stayed up until midnight waiting for him.

Looking back now, it's nothing short of a joke.

There was even more buried in the file.

The hotel check-in records were dense and extensive, spanning three whole years.

There were photos of them on business trips, walking together in foreign cities, his arm wrapped around her waist, both of them laughing without a care in the world.

There were even security camera shots of them caught kissing in the underground parking lot of my own apartment complex.

Right beside my Porsche. How ironic!

What really made my blood run cold were the transactions between them.

Andrew had bought Vivian cars, houses, and designer stuff.

Every single transaction cost a small fortune.

And he paid for it all with our shared money.

I slowly went through the email again, from start to finish.

Every word, every photo.

Nothing escaped me.