Chapter 3

During dinner, David acted extra attentive. He kept putting food on my plate and asked me if work had been exhausting lately.

David smiled at me and said, "Honey, your birthday's next week. What kind of gift do you want?"

I looked at his fake smile and forced myself to smile back. "I don't need anything," I told him. "We should save the money. Ethan's tutoring classes are expensive."

David's expression turned tender, as if he were genuinely moved.

"You're so thoughtful," he said. "Marrying you was the best thing that ever happened to me."

Under the table, I clenched my other hand into a fist so tight that my nails dug into my palm.

Best thing? More like the best cover story for playing me like a fool.

After dinner, David told me he had some work to handle in his study.

I grabbed the cameras Emily had given me and headed straight to the bedroom.

I hid one inside the tissue box on the nightstand, wedged another in the gap above the wardrobe, and tucked the last one under the cable box beneath the TV.

The angles covered the entire bedroom and the bed perfectly.

I finished setting everything up and went to put Ethan to sleep, as nothing had happened.

Ethan looked up at me with innocent eyes. "Mom, why does Dad keep saying he's fixing pipes? Our pipes work fine."

My breath caught in my throat.

Fixing pipes?

I opened that blogger's account and scrolled through her previous posts.

Sure enough, I found my answer in a post from a week ago.

[My neighbor is so good at this. Every time he comes over with the excuse of fixing my pipes, he's really fixing my plumbing, if you know what I mean. He says his wife's out with the kid, so we might as well make one of our own.]

Someone had commented underneath: [Even cheaters know not to sleep with someone this close to home. You two are absolutely vile.]

The blogger had replied with zero shame: [Why not? That just makes it more exciting. Look, that idiot just took the kid out. Our fun starts now.]

She'd attached a photo taken through her peephole, showing the neighbor across the hall locking her door and leaving with her child.

The figure in that photo, locking the door and walking away with her son, was me from last Saturday.

My blood ran cold.

So she lived in the same building as us.

That was why David could always come back so fast.

That was why his quick trips to grab milk took half an hour.

He had been cheating on me right under my nose.

I put Ethan to sleep and walked out of his room.

David was still in the study, and the door was cracked open.

I heard him on the phone, and his voice was hushed and low.

He said, "Baby, come on, I'm exhausted today. Okay, okay, tomorrow, I'll come tomorrow for sure. What? You wanna come to my place?"

I stopped dead in my tracks. Come to my place?

David's voice shifted, nervous but excited. "That's probably not a good idea, she's still here. Oh, next week? Right, she does have that three-day business trip next week. Fine, whatever you want, you can sleep in as much as you want."

Were they planning to turn my home into their love nest while I was gone?

Sleep in my bed and use my bathroom?

Fury shot through me like lightning.

Fine. Perfect. They wanted to play games, so I'd give them a show they would never forget.

I returned to the bedroom and lay down.

David came in a few minutes later, smelling like fresh body wash.

He reached for me, but I smoothly shifted away.

I said, "I'm tired. Let's just sleep."

David didn't push it, and within minutes, he was snoring.

I listened to the sound and stared at the ceiling.

My phone screen glowed in the darkness.

Emily had sent me the woman's file.

Chloe Reed, 24, a small-time influencer on some streaming platform, living in Building 8 of our apartment complex. Only six hundred feet from my front door.

The file included her complete background, even her shady past as an escort.

I looked at the information, and a cold smile curved across my lips.

David, you thought you found yourself a sweet, innocent girl? She was nothing but a rotten, manipulative snake.