Chapter 1

It was Christmas Eve, and I was stuck at my desk, scrolling through my phone to kill time after working late into the night.

I came across a trending post about how to manage employees, and one comment in particular really stood out. [My husband's got some real tricks.

[He always picks the most capable female employees to have secret affairs with, using emotional manipulation to make them work themselves to the bone for the company.

[That woman is dreaming of being the boss's wife, but in reality, she hasn't taken a single day off in three years. She's still working overtime on Christmas Eve.

[And right after sleeping with him, she's kicked out of bed to make a presentation. She's both a workhorse and a mistress. Let's call her a workhorse.]

Some people in the comments stood up for the female employee, calling the original poster and her husband vicious.

She couldn't care less and posted another photo.

In the picture, the man was wearing an apron, cooking in the kitchen, his silhouette looking sharp and refined.

The caption was a blatant provocation. [What's the point of yelling at me? She's still stuck at the office working late, while I'm lounging in my big house, waiting for my husband to finish cooking Christmas Eve dinner.]

My breath caught, and my grip on the phone tightened.

I'd recognize him anywhere.

That silhouette in the photo was definitely Henry Palmer, the CEO I'd been secretly dating for five years.

I flipped my phone face down on the desk and took a few deep breaths.

Then I picked it up again, my fingers trembling as I zoomed in on the photo, bit by bit.

The navy-blue apron he was wearing was the Christmas gift I bought him after scraping together three months' worth of bonuses.

Last month, I casually mentioned that I liked a clean look, and the very next day, he went and got that neat short haircut, like the man's hair in the photo.

Even that little red mole behind his right ear was the same as Henry's.

Someone in the comments asked. [This guy's playing both sides. Hasn't that female employee ever suspected anything?]

She replied smugly: [Every time I call, my husband tells her I'm his mom. Sometimes he gets that clueless woman to say hi to me. Sadly, she could never meet his mom whenever she felt like it.]

The cold glow of the screen made my eyes sting.

A few days ago, after Henry picked up the phone, he suddenly smiled at me and said, "Bea, my mom wants to say a few words to you."

I froze for a second, then quickly took the phone and quietly said hi to the woman.

But there was no response on the other end.

Henry was standing next to me, playfully teasing. "My mom's dying for a daughter-in-law."

Though it felt a bit sudden, I couldn't resist his sweet-talking and finally introduced myself to the woman.

Right after that, the person on the other end cracked up, kept saying "Good, good, good," and then hung up in a rush.

Back then, I felt something was off, but Henry said a few things to distract me, and I let it go.

Now I finally realized. The person on the other end of that call was his real wife.

My fingers trembled uncontrollably as I clicked into that woman's profile.

Her latest post was from two weeks ago. [Christmas gift from my husband. It's so expensive. It costs over a million dollars.]

But on that exact day, Henry looked me in the eye and said, "The company's not doing so hot this year. Since you're basically the future Mrs. Palmer, let's skip your year-end bonus, alright?

"As for overtime pay, we'll settle up once the company bounces back."

My hands were shaking harder as I kept scrolling.

There was another post: [Vacationing at the beach with my husband. Not having to work is pure bliss.]

On that day, I was grinding away for three days straight, barely sleeping, to close a big deal, and ended up with a bleeding ulcer from all the booze at the business dinner.

After the contract was signed, I gave all the credit to Henry, who hadn't lifted a finger, to help him build his reputation at the company.

Next post: [Moved into our new home. My husband bought us a huge riverfront villa for me and our baby.]

The living room in the photo was spacious and bright, with a stunning river view right outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Meanwhile, I didn't get a spot in the company dorm.

In Rivergate, where every inch of land cost a fortune, I was stuck renting a tiny, rundown room way out in the boonies, with a daily commute that started at two hours.

It was ridiculous how much I used to trust Henry.

I totally fell for his crap about the company being on the verge of bankruptcy.

I never spent a dollar of his money, never asked for a raise, and worked myself to death, so things would be easier for him.

Five years of busting my ass, and in the end, all I did was help him and another woman enjoy their perfect life together.