Chapter 2

Julian didn't stumble home until one in the morning.

He reeked of alcohol and foreign floral perfume, his footsteps clumsy as he crossed the foyer.

Seeing me sitting awake on the living room sofa, he froze.

"Chloe, why aren't you in bed? Staying up late isn't good for the baby."

He put on his trademark caring facade, stepping forward to pull me into a hug.

I leaned away, avoiding his touch.

"Julian, we need to talk."

"Talk about what?" His arms hovered awkwardly in midair.

"About you and Vanessa."

The room fell dead silent. His face shifted from confusion to guilt, and then into guarded hostility.

"Did you follow me?"

"I brought you food. That's all."

He went quiet for a moment, then tugged irritably at his tie.

"Chloe, stop making a scene out of nothing. It was just a silly joke between coworkers. Are you seriously making a big deal out of this?"

"Sitting on your lap is a joke?"

"She had a drink and slipped!" His voice spiked.

"You're seven months pregnant. Being this paranoid and neurotic isn't healthy for the baby!"

Listen to him. He actually dared to bring up our child.

Looking at him, he felt like a complete stranger. The man I had known for eight years looked like he was wearing an expensive, hollow mask, hiding something grotesque underneath.

"Julian," I said, standing up and locking eyes with him.

"In your world, what actually counts as crossing the line?"

He remained silent.

"Showing proprietary, top-secret project files to a client's intern—is that just a joke to you, too?"

His pupils shrank in shock.

"You saw that?"

"Not only did I see it," I pulled out my phone and pulled up the photo, "I took a picture."

His expression transformed instantly.

From shock, to guilt, to fury, and finally settling into an ugly, unadulterated terror I had never seen on him before.

"Are you out of your mind?!" He lunged forward to snatch my phone, but I took two quick steps back, slipping my hands behind my back.

"Chloe, delete that photo right now!" His voice shook with panic.

"Why should I?"

"Because you don't know what the hell you're doing!" He clenched his fists tight.

"Vanessa is Richard Sterling's daughter! Landing this multi-million dollar account depends entirely on her dad!"

"I'm managing client relations! Can't you understand that?"

"Managing client relations means having her straddle your lap?"

"You—"

"And letting her read confidential enterprise strategies?"

Every word I spoke landed like a scalpel, cutting straight into his deepest fears.

He collapsed back onto the sofa, his face completely drained of color.

A suffocating silence hung in the room.

The wall clock ticked steadily, each chime sounding like a countdown to his demise.

"Chloe," he finally managed, his voice raspy and strained. "What do you actually want?"

"Nothing."

"Are you going to report me?"

"What do you think?"

He snapped, shooting up from the couch with a vicious look in his eyes.

"You think reporting me does you any good?"

"I'm the one bringing home the massive bonuses! You're on maternity leave—how are you going to support this kid on your own?"

"The down payment on this condo came from my parents."

"That's your premarital asset, fine! But we've been paying the mortgage together!" He grasped at straws, his voice turning shrill.

"If you dare report me, I'll file for divorce immediately! I'll take half the property, half your stock options, and leave you with nothing!"

I said nothing.

Taking my silence for fear, his tone grew smug.

"Chloe, listen to me. Don't be stupid. Delete the photo right now, and we'll pretend none of this happened."

"Tomorrow I'll take you out to a nice dinner, buy you whatever you want, and we'll put this behind us. Making a mess out of this ruins both our lives."

I looked down, gently stroking my belly.

"Julian, I'll give you one chance," I said softly.

"What?"

"Cut all ties with Vanessa. Tomorrow, call her on speaker right in front of me and make it clear it's over."

His face went rigid.

"I'm not unreasonable," I said, looking up calmly.

"Seven years together. I don't want to burn everything to the ground."

"You... you're unbelievable!" He threw his hands in the air and stormed toward the home office.

"I can't talk to you when you're like this! Think whatever crazy thoughts you want!"

The office door slammed shut behind him.

I stood alone in the dark living room, listening to the muffled sounds through the door.

He was on the phone, his voice hushed, but a few frantic words drifted out.

"She saw... yeah... took a photo... don't worry, I've got it handled... you're safe..."

He was calling Vanessa.

The final ember in my heart turned to ash.

I walked back to the master bedroom and locked the door behind me.

I hadn't given him a chance to save our marriage; I had given myself a chance to confirm his complete lack of remorse.

I powered up my laptop. Having been one of the core architects of our corporate compliance framework, I knew the internal security rules better than anyone.

Any file tagged 'Classified' generated an automated breach log the moment it was exported to an external drive.

If Julian had shown that proposal to Vanessa, he had undoubtedly tripped the security threshold.

Without hesitation, I accessed the backend administrative portal, my fingers flying across the keys.

The query results populated.

Staring at the cold data on the screen, my remaining illusions shattered.

Four times. Over the past two weeks, Julian's terminal had accessed that encrypted proposal four separate times.

Every single instance coincided with Vanessa joining the team.

What was even more damning was the final timestamp:

Last night at 10:00 PM.

Right when he told me he was grinding away at overtime.

Right when I watched through the glass door as Vanessa sat on his lap.

I closed the tab and shut my eyes.

Placing my hand over my stomach, I felt the rhythmic flutter of my baby's heartbeat.

I'm sorry, little one. Mommy waited too long.

Starting tomorrow, I won't wait another second.