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Jenny POV
“Daddy, Daddy! Are we going to see the nice lady again today?”
My son Daniel’s voice burst out outside the door—bright, eager, almost bouncing with excitement.
I hadn’t heard him sound this lively in quite a while.
My husband’s voice came through the speaker.
“You miss her that much, Daniel?”
“Of course!” Daniel said super excitedly. “I love her! She’s way better than Mommy! Mommy’s so annoying these days. She never lets me have snacks, and she’s always nagging me!”
He rambled on in a fast, dramatic little huff, then continued. “Daddy, I wanna take the nice lady to our favorite restaurant!”
“All right, Daniel,” Alex said calmly. “But do you remember what you promised me?”
“Mommy must never find out!” Daniel answered quickly, delighted.
“You’ve already told me so many times, Daddy!”
“Good. I’ll come pick you up later. Remember to wear your favorite sweater.”
Just like that, the call ended.
I covered my mouth with one hand. My fingers were cold.
My mind went blank, the blood draining from my face. What nice lady? Daniel thought someone was better than me? Was Alex seeing someone behind my back, and he’d dragged our four-year-old son into it?
The thought made me squeeze the carefully wrapped bag of Daniel’s handmade school project in my other hand so tight the paper crinkled sharply under my fingers.
Daniel must have heard that sound, he turned around and saw me leaning on the doorway.
“Mommy? Why are you here?” A flicker of unease crossed his face, gone in an instant and replaced by plain annoyance. “I told you to go back. Why do you have to keep pestering me?”
I barely registered his annoyance. All I could hear was his excited words ringing in my ears, making my chest ache. I’d never suspected a thing when he’d hurried me back inside, saying he’s a big boy now and would wait for Daddy alone.
“I came to give you this,” I held up the bag in my hand, pretending not to hear a thing.
“Ah!” Daniel yelped, eyes widening in surprise. He darted over in three quick little steps and snatched the delicate pink bag right out of my grasp.
He’d slaved over this craft project for a whole week, guarding it like a treasure, never even letting me peek at it. That’s why I’d rushed out the second I noticed he’d left it behind—how could I let his hard work go to waste?
Daniel fumbled with the bag, checking it up and down in a fluster, then scowled and snapped, “Mommy! Why are you always so clumsy? You wrinkled my gift bag!”
“Gift bag?” I asked, my brows furrowing.
“I mean… the wrapping bag. Whatever!” Daniel mumbled, his voice dropping as he avoided my eyes—then his face lit up in an instant. “Daddy’s here!”
A sleek black Ferrari purred to a stop in front of the house. The window rolled down, and there was Alex Reach, my husband.
Young, devastatingly handsome, the kind of sharp, alpha male who turned heads wherever he went. Chiseled jaw, piercing dark eyes, a tailored suit that fit his broad shoulders like a second skin, every inch the powerful, self-assured tycoon.
Today was supposed to be Daniel’s weekly hobby class, and Alex and I had agreed he’d be the one to pick him up.
He did a double take when he saw me standing there with Daniel, a flicker of surprise crossing his perfect features. Why would he?
Then he cut the engine and stepped out of the car, long legs eating up the distance to us in a few strides.
“You look a little pale, darling,” he said, his voice low and gentle as he drew near. He lifted a gloved hand, brushing a stray hair from my cheek before cupping my jaw, his touch warm even through the leather. Leaning in, he pressed a soft, chaste kiss to my cheek. All the sweet, tender gestures he’d always done so flawlessly. “Is everything okay?”
A million questions swirled in my mind, doubts teetering on the tip of my tongue.
But he’d always loved me this deeply. A wildly successful CEO with never a hint of a scandal, every woman envied me when they saw him by my side.
What if my suspicions were all for nothing? What if I destroyed the happiness right in front of me for good?
“Everything’s fine.” I answered dryly.
“Then go back inside,” he urged, giving my back a gentle nudge, a soft push, almost too quick, like he was in a hurry to get rid of me. “It’s windy out here. I’ll take good care of Daniel.”
He didn’t notice a thing was off. He lifted the clearly impatient Daniel and settled him into the car.
“Goodbye, Jenny.”
But I didn’t go back inside. I stood there, frozen, watching the Ferrari’s taillights fade, and all the little things I’d pushed away crashed into me:
Alex had been coming home later and later, no real excuse. Sometimes, when he kissed me, a faint, unfamiliar scent clung to his collar. I’d always pushed those thoughts away, chosen to believe the best, pretended everything was fine. But not today.
I’d always pushed those thoughts away, chosen to believe the best, been so good at pretending everything was fine. But not today.
Standing there in the cold wind, my mind had never felt clearer.
Just a few minutes ago, when Alex had stepped out of the car, I’d caught a glimpse of a strange woman’s coat strewn carelessly across the back seat.
With Daniel’s words ringing in my ears, it was glaringly obvious. Alex had just met her. And now he was taking our son to see her again. The nice lady Daniel thought was so much better than me.
This was my chance—my only chance—to get the truth.
As soon as the Ferrari rounded the corner and I’m sure they couldn’t saw me, I quickly flagged down a taxi by the roadside, slid in, and said, my voice sharp with resolve, “Follow the car in front. Hurry.”
At that moment, I had no idea what I was about to witness.
Sunlit Legal was unrecognizable now.Six weeks prior, when Jenny first stepped foot in this building, half the fluorescent lights lining the corridors had burned out, and the remaining fixtures cast a sickly yellow glow that aged the wall paint a full decade beyond its actual years. A semi-retired receptionist manned the front desk, dozing off sharp at three o’clock every afternoon. The whiteboard in the conference room still bore case numbers scrawled by the previous managing partner three years earlier; the marks from his dry-erase marker had faded to pale, ghostly gray streaks.Today, every fluorescent tube down the hall had been replaced. The new lamps blazed with crisp cool white light, rendering the marble floor’s mineral veins so distinct you could count every individual crystalline streak. The front desk had a new attendant—Mia, twenty-five years old, a part-time receptionist pursuing her Master of Laws, who arrived promptl
Her fingertip brushes that same plastic collar button, cool smooth dome resting beneath her skin for one quiet beat.Then she lifts her hand away, stands, grabs her leather briefcase, and reaches for the office light switch. The fluorescent tube hums once with a fading electrical whine before cutting out entirely, plunging the office into full darkness.She steps out into the corridor, heels clicking steady crisp taps across the tile floor as overhead hallway lights hum above her path, casting her long stretched shadow that curves and vanishes at the far end of the corridor.The elevator doors slide open with a faint hiss. She steps inside and presses the lobby button, plastic clicking softly beneath her fingertip, the doors sealing shut behind her with a thin tearing zip sound.The mirrored elevator wall reflects her quiet smile, the corners of her mouth lifting five millimeters upward into a soft unmissable
“Aren’t you going to have any?” she asks, mid-chew on a tender rib, sweet-sour glaze spreading soft tang across her taste buds.“I already ate.”“Where?”“The Vietnamese pho shop directly across from the federal courthouse.”“When did you find time to stop there?”“While you were drafting your opening statement this afternoon.” His fingertip drifts to brush the half-finished closing argument draft spread across her desk, paper rustling faintly beneath his skin. His gaze scans the typed lines quickly, pausing for a full two seconds on the third paragraph — the section quoting Meridian’s internal May 2022 R&D progress report.“Is there an error in paragraph three?” she asks, setting her chopsticks down against the plastic takeout lid with a faint click.&ldq
Then she lifts her hand away, stands, grabs her leather briefcase, and reaches for the office light switch. The fluorescent tube hums once with a fading electrical whine before cutting out entirely, plunging the office into full darkness.She steps out into the corridor, heels clicking steady crisp taps across the tile floor as overhead hallway lights hum above her path, casting her long stretched shadow that curves and vanishes at the far end of the corridor.The elevator doors slide open with a faint hiss. She steps inside and presses the lobby button, plastic clicking softly beneath her fingertip, the doors sealing shut behind her with a thin tearing zip sound.The mirrored elevator wall reflects her quiet smile, the corners of her mouth lifting five millimeters upward into a soft unmissable arc, her eyes crinkling faintly with quiet amusement beneath the pale overhead cabin light.The elevator dings upon reachin
“No error whatsoever.” He lifts his hand away from the typed pages, resting it flat against the desktop surface. “That paragraph is your strongest exhibit. You rely on no error whatsoever.” He lifts his hand away from the typed pages, resting it flat against the desktop surface. “That paragraph is your strongest exhibit. You rely on Meridian’s own internal corporate documentation to prove their lead scientist referenced summit-obtained crystal stability data in their official development log only one month after the collaborative meeting. Whitfield possesses no viable rebuttal; this document originates from his own client’s internal archives, not evidence your counsel fabricated.”Jenny’s chopsticks lift another rib from the container, plastic clicking against the rim as she sets the utensil back down. The tender meat fibers separate cleanly between her molars as she chews, releasing more thick sweet-sour g
Caspian stands, his office chair creaking faintly against the tile floor as he rises. He gathers the empty takeout sack and thermal tea pouch, paper and insulated fabric rustling softly between his palms.He walks to the office doorway, one hand wrapping around the cool metal doorknob, which creaks faintly beneath his grip. He twists his head to glance back at her one final time.His gaze locks directly onto the second shirt button aligned perfectly at her collar, the fabric edges neatly matched, the plastic dome seated dead-center within its stitched eyelet.“The button stays straight this evening,” he comments quietly.“I am aware.”“I know you are aware.” A faint soft curve tugs at the corner of his mouth beneath the hallway light filtering through the door crack. “Goodnight, Jenny.”“Goodnight, Caspian.”&nbs







