Chapter 6 · Only After Meeting Him Did I Forgive My Husband

Alex stared at the transfer, his knuckles slowly tightening until his fists were bone-white.

The bar lights were harsh enough to make anyone squint, and the air was thick with booze, cheap perfume, and stale smoke. Alex swallowed hard, struggling for a long moment before he finally managed, his voice tight, "I can't take your money again."

"It's not free," I said, pushing my glass away. "Be at my office at nine tomorrow. If you're even a minute late, that $30,000 is just me buying your time tonight."

His face went pale in an instant.

I gave a small smile. "Does that sound harsh?"

He lowered his gaze, his voice rough. "No."

"Then remember this," I said, getting up and grabbing my bag. "The most valuable thing in this world isn't your body. It's whether you're willing to pull yourself out of the gutter."

As I stepped out of the bar, the night wind cut right through my collar, making my shoulders tense up.

My phone buzzed.

It was a message from Jonathan: [Honey, I'm sorry. Emily got scared today, so I can't leave her right now. Did you open your birthday present?]

I stared at the screen, my stomach turning cold.

Without thinking, I snapped a pic of the bar sign and sent it back: [It's fine. I've got company too.]

Jonathan immediately called me.

I didn't pick up.

The next morning, Alex showed up downstairs at the office right on time at nine.

He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants, his hair trimmed short. Gone was that cloying cologne from last night. Now he just smelled clean, like fresh soap.

The receptionist did a double-take when she saw him, then leaned over and whispered, "Ms. Miller, is this the new guy?"

"My personal assistant," I replied.

As the elevator doors slid shut, his reflection stared back at me from the mirrored walls.

He stood there, ramrod straight, like a string pulled so tight it might snap.

I handed him a file. "First thing, look into everything under Emily's name: properties, cars, company transaction history. Just stick to what's public, no illegal digging."

Alex looked up. "Who's Emily?"

I watched the elevator numbers tick upward, my voice flat. "The woman my husband's been keeping for three years."

He was quiet for a couple seconds, then said, "Got it."

At noon, Jonathan showed up.

When he pushed open my office door, he saw Alex crouched beside me, picking up the papers scattered across the floor.

Alex looked up, calling out, "Sis, should I file this one separately?"

Jonathan's face darkened instantly.

The only sound in the room was the hum of the air conditioner.

I looked up. "What's up?"

Jonathan stared at Alex. "Who is he?"

I smiled. "Shouldn't you understand better than anyone? I saw how much he's struggling, so I decided to help him out."

Jonathan's eyes narrowed.

In that moment, I saw a crack appear in that gentle facade of his.

Chapter 6

Alex stared at the transfer, his knuckles slowly tightening until his fists were bone-white.

"It's not free," I said, pushing my glass away. "Be at my office at nine tomorrow. If you're even a minute late, that $30,000 is just me buying your time tonight."

His face went pale in an instant.

I gave a small smile. "Does that sound harsh?"

He lowered his gaze, his voice rough. "No."

"Then remember this," I said, getting up and grabbing my bag. "The most valuable thing in this world isn't your body. It's whether you're willing to pull yourself out of the gutter."

As I stepped out of the bar, the night wind cut right through my collar, making my shoulders tense up.

My phone buzzed.

It was a message from Jonathan: [Honey, I'm sorry. Emily got scared today, so I can't leave her right now. Did you open your birthday present?]

I stared at the screen, my stomach turning cold.

Without thinking, I snapped a pic of the bar sign and sent it back: [It's fine. I've got company too.]

Jonathan immediately called me.

I didn't pick up.

The next morning, Alex showed up downstairs at the office right on time at nine.

He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants, his hair trimmed short. Gone was that cloying cologne from last night. Now he just smelled clean, like fresh soap.

The receptionist did a double-take when she saw him, then leaned over and whispered, "Ms. Miller, is this the new guy?"

"My personal assistant," I replied.

As the elevator doors slid shut, his reflection stared back at me from the mirrored walls.

He stood there, ramrod straight, like a string pulled so tight it might snap.

I handed him a file. "First thing, look into everything under Emily's name: properties, cars, company transaction history. Just stick to what's public, no illegal digging."

Alex looked up. "Who's Emily?"

I watched the elevator numbers tick upward, my voice flat. "The woman my husband's been keeping for three years."

He was quiet for a couple seconds, then said, "Got it."

At noon, Jonathan showed up.

When he pushed open my office door, he saw Alex crouched beside me, picking up the papers scattered across the floor.

Alex looked up, calling out, "Sis, should I file this one separately?"

Jonathan's face darkened instantly.

The only sound in the room was the hum of the air conditioner.

I looked up. "What's up?"

Jonathan stared at Alex. "Who is he?"

I smiled. "Shouldn't you understand better than anyone? I saw how much he's struggling, so I decided to help him out."

Jonathan's eyes narrowed.

In that moment, I saw a crack appear in that gentle facade of his.