Chapter 4
Iven with his current success, that deep-rooted inferiority complex never really left him.
At fancy events, he’d instinctively shrink, watching how others behaved before daring to relax.
But with Chloe, he was the powerful one-financially, socially, emotionally,
She made him feel big. Invincible.
And back where we both came from, men still carry this twisted belief:
A man’s success isn’t just measured by his money or career-it’s by how many women he can “conquer.”
We’d debated that once in college.
He’d condemned that mentality harshly.
But some things sink too deep to ever be unlearned.
As for Chloe? I wasn’t sure if she truly loved him.
In adult relationships, “love” often comes second to “need.”
Back when she interned for me, she’d often say she envied my life-my background, my career, my marriage.
So now, by sleeping with my husband, she probably felt like she’d finally beaten me.
she got what I had.
‘Ma’am, these are their photos.”
The investigator slid a small stack across the table.
So… you want to go straight to court, or give it a few more days?”
stared at the pictures-Robert and Chloe entering the same apartment, leaving together, their faces relaxed and familiar.
The sight made my chest tighten.
All those vows, all that love, undone by time and cheap temptation.
Christmas is in two days,” he said cautiously.
You sure you don’t want to wait until after?”
Ma’am, I’ve seen a lot of this,” he added quietly.
Men who never cheat? Honestly, I’ve never met one.”
For a split second, I hesitated.
Then I just said, “Keep watching him.”
Christmas came.
As usual, Robert showed up at my office with a huge bouquet of red roses.
My younger staff squealed, snapping photos, spamming our group chat with “#RelationshipGoals” and “Ugh, they’re so cute!”
I left work early, stopped by the mall, bought myself a new purse, and went out for dinner with him.
The whole night, I kept thinking-this might be the last holiday we ever spend together.
Halfway through dinner, his phone rang.
He frowned.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing major,” he said.
“A colleague got into a fight with his girlfriend’s ex. He’s in the ER now, cops are there. I need to check on him.”
I knew all of Robert’s close colleagues,
If one of them really called, I’d probably know them too.
“I’ll come with you,” I said, standing up.
He stopped me immediately.
“Better not. It’s a mess already, and they don’t want people talking.”
“I’ll smooth things over and call you later.”
Right.
Just like in those palace dramas, where the mistress flaunts her favor in front of the queen, too smug to realize she’s walking into her own death.
“Okay,” I said, sitting back down. “I’ll grab a drink after dinner.”
He smiled, leaned down, pressed his forehead to mine.
His voice was soft, teasing, affectionate.
“Don’t go picking up any hot young guys.”
I chuckled, playing along.
‘No promises. Come home early if you’re jealous.”
He pinched my nose and left.
I watched his back fade into the crowd and dialed my PI.
‘Robert just left,” I said.
I’m on Chloe,” he replied quickly. Then he gave me an address.
From our restaurant to Chloe’s place, even with Christmas traffic, it should’ve taken him forty minutes tops.
An hour passed
Still nothing.
started to think maybe there was a fourth woman.
Or maybe-just maybe-he actually had gone to the hospital.
Twenty minutes later, the message came in.
‘He’s here.”
Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.
