Chapter 1

Seven months pregnant, I went to the office to bring my husband a late-night snack, only to catch the female intern sitting on his lap.

He chased after me, claiming it was just some harmless office banter.

I didn't scream or cry. I simply turned around and dumped the hot soup into the trash can.

When I got home, I opened my laptop and used my Director-level credentials to pull up the intern's personnel file. Under emergency contact was the name of our biggest client's CEO, Richard Sterling. And her desk was assigned directly to the top-secret project run by my husband.

Two weeks later, he slammed a stack of documents onto our coffee table with a smirk. "Chloe, you leaked proprietary company secrets."

He demanded I sign a divorce agreement and walk away with nothing, or else he'd drag my name through the mud and ruin my career.

Clutching the divorce papers, I stared down in silence.

He thought I was terrified. He thought I was hesitating, wavering.

What he didn't know was that I had been waiting for him to play this exact card.

Seven months pregnant, I drove down to the office to bring him a late-night snack.

Most of the lights in our corporate tower were out, leaving only a few windows glowing on the top floor.

Julian had been telling me lately that the project was hitting a critical milestone, forcing him to work late every night.

Worried about his health, I made a fresh batch of soup, packed it into an insulated thermal bag, and took an Uber over.

In the elevator, I caught my reflection in the mirror and straightened my hair.

Seven years. From college until now, we had shared the best years of our lives.

Back when he was courting me, he would wait two hours outside the library in the freezing cold just to walk me back to my dorm.

After graduation, we climbed the corporate ladder side by side. He handled client relations, I handled strategy and operations. We were the perfect team.

I genuinely thought we would grow old together.

The elevator doors slid open, revealing a silent hallway. The frosted glass door to the project department was cracked slightly open. Just as I reached out to push it—

I saw them.

Through the glass, Julian, my husband, was leaning down, whispering something into Vanessa Sterling's ear.

And Vanessa, the intern who had joined just two weeks ago, was sitting right on his lap.

She giggled, her body pressed flush against his, one arm casually draped over his shoulder. The intimacy between them was undeniable.

My fingers froze against the metal frame of the door.

The soup inside the thermal bag was scalding hot, radiating heat against my palm, but I felt completely numb.

Vanessa was the first to spot me. Panicked, she leaped off Julian's lap, her face flushing crimson.

Julian followed her gaze. The relaxed pleasure on his face instantly morphed into shock, then sheer terror.

He scrambled to close a window on his computer screen.

The movement was frantic, but I caught it—the familiar layout, the color palette, and specifically the client's corporate logo in the header that my team had spent weeks finalizing. Even in that split second, I was one hundred percent sure.

It was the top-secret project proposal I had spent three grueling months leading. The one set to be officially presented next week.

Vanessa was an intern sent over on a temporary placement from that very client's firm.

Under company policy, any romantic relationship between project team members and client representatives had to be formally disclosed.

Failing to disclose it was a gross violation of conflict-of-interest regulations.

Even worse—showing confidential, unreleased project proposals to client personnel constituted corporate espionage and a breach of trade secrets.

I drew a slow, deep breath.

I didn't storm in. I didn't break anything. I didn't shed a single tear.

I just stood outside the glass door and watched Julian rush toward me.

"Chloe? What are you doing here?" He pulled open the door, plastering on his usual gentle smile and reaching for the thermal bag in my hands.

"Didn't I tell you to stay home and get some rest?"

I stepped aside, dodging his touch.

"Just came to check on you." My voice was so calm it surprised even me.

"What you just saw... it's a misunderstanding," he murmured, lowering his voice.

"Vanessa had a little too much to drink at dinner and lost her footing. I was just catching her."

"Catching her on your lap?"

His expression faltered, but he quickly regained his composure. "You're being overly sensitive. It was just a harmless office joke between coworkers."

I didn't say another word.

I turned on my heel and walked back toward the elevators.

He took two hurried steps after me, then abruptly stopped. He was probably terrified of leaving Vanessa alone in that office.

The moment the elevator doors slid shut, I saw him turning right back to her.

Right then, the last ounce of warmth in my heart died.

Exiting the building, the chilly night air slapped my face. I looked down at the thermal bag in my hand and felt a wave of bitter irony.

I dumped the hot soup straight into a nearby sidewalk trash can.

Despite my care, a few drops of boiling broth splashed against the rim and the pavement, releasing a frail wisp of steam into the cold air.

When I got home, I didn't cry, and I didn't throw a fit.

I booted up my laptop and began re-examining every suspicious detail from the past six months that I had previously chosen to ignore.

The late-night excuses, the faint traces of unfamiliar designer perfume, the recurring PayPal and Venmo transfers labeled with heart emojis and romantic amounts...

I documented every single one.

Then, I logged into the company's internal HR database. Vanessa's file was listed under standard temporary interns, but using my Director-level credentials, I pulled the emergency contact she listed on day one—Richard Sterling.

The CEO of our premier client account.

Everything fell into place. An intern with such a high-profile background was dropped right under my nose, and Julian, as project lead, hadn't reported it. In fact, he had gone out of his way to hide it from me.

I leaned back against my chair and gently rested a hand on my rounded belly. The baby kicked, as if offering me quiet strength.

Outside, the night was pitch-black, but sleep was the last thing on my mind.

Julian, you thought I was going to cry?

You couldn't be more wrong.

I won't shed a tear. Instead, I'll make sure you pay for every single thing you've done.