“I’ll go with you!”

Hearing the slam of the door as George and Kristen left, I could no longer keep myself upright and collapsed onto the floor.

His relationship with Kristen had already reached the point where he was taking her child to the amusement park.

Or was that child connected to him all along?

The thought made my chest tighten. I bit down hard on my lips and dialed my brother Chase’s number.

“Brother, help me investigate George and Kristen.”

“Investigate what? Did he cheat?”

“I suspect he has an illegitimate child.”

Chase gasped in shock. “Are you sure? He can even have children?”

I felt all my strength drain away, my throat tightening.

“Kristen said she’s a lucky, fertile woman.”

Even as I spoke, the words felt absurd, a claim with no proof, yet the weight of it pressed down on my heart.

“Brother, hospital directors change every five years; it’s about time for George to step down.”

“These five years under his management, the hospital has lost money year after year. That betting agreement he signed, the penalty should be enough to ruin him, right?”

My brother froze for a moment, then asked cautiously, “Jennifer, are you alright?”

I wasn’t. Not at all. My heart ached as if it were being sliced apart piece by piece.

But I could not allow the slightest impurity in love. If any existed, I would crush it completely.

“Brother, help me find a reliable divorce lawyer. I want George to leave with nothing. This will be difficult.”

In our circles, prenuptial property agreements were always signed.

But I had never made George sign one.

I had always believed he wasn’t here for money, that he would never betray me.

Looking back now, I realized I had spoken far too soon.

After I set everything in motion, George sent me a message.

[Wife, everything I said just now was in anger. Don’t take it to heart.]

[Dwayne has pneumonia. I have to stay at the hospital tonight to be with him.]

[Honestly, I really want to come home, but Dwayne is only four years old. He’s clinging to me… I couldn’t bear to leave.]

I typed back quickly, my fingers trembling.

[I don’t care. Come tomorrow to pack your things and move out of my house.]

A question mark appeared in response.

[Jennifer, are you really forcing me like this? You won’t be satisfied until you push me into another woman’s arms?]

[Fine. I’ll grant your wish!]

I paused, then sent my reply. [On our wedding day, I told you, if you betray me, you’ll be left with nothing. Do you remember?]

That had been our wedding. He had gently lifted my veil, eyes shining like a sky full of stars, and said firmly, “There will be no betrayal, unless I die.”

And now, the only thing left on my screen was a cold, red exclamation mark. He had blocked me.

Not long after, someone added me, and it was Kristen.

She sent a video.

In it, George sat at a bedside, reading a picture book to a four- or five-year-old boy with tender patience.

The child listened closely, eyes wide, completely absorbed.

Father and son, the warmth between them was undeniable, a scene of effortless harmony.

I replied, my chest tightening, “What are you implying?”

Kristen answered immediately, “Ma’am, don’t you think Dwayne looks a lot like George? Take a closer look.”

“Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t look like.”

I trusted only what I could investigate; I didn’t need her subtle hints.

The following day, at the hospital’s medical conference, I had to give a speech as a shareholder.

My brother handed me the documents he had gathered discreetly.

As I turned the pages, my hands trembled.

Kristen had once attended our school’s comic convention, dressed as a cute, provocative maid.

That was when she had added George’s contact information.

Over the years, she continued sending revealing cosplay selfies, and George had occasionally responded with a like.

She had constantly boasted in their chats that she was a “lucky fertile woman,” someone who could easily conceive children.

During the time I was preparing to marry George, they even had a record of checking into a hotel together.

After the birth of Dwayne and Daniel, the twins, George had transferred fifty thousand dollars to Kristen every month.

Until half a month ago, when he brought her home, under the guise of a “maid.”

My mind spun with chaos, yet my voice remained eerily calm.

“Brother, is George currently speaking at the medical conference?”

“This conference, members of the Medical Association, directors and experts from the nation’s top fifty hospitals, all attending, right?”

“And it’s livestreamed too, isn’t it?”

Chase froze, eyes wide. “Yes, why are you asking?”

“To ruin the show.”

I spat the words and strode straight toward the venue.

Inside the conference hall, George sat proudly in the front row.

Beside him, Kristen wore a white coat, pretending to be a doctor, her posture flawless, her presence an affront.

Their fingers were entwined, and she leaned close, whispering into his ear. “George, you’re the greatest director. You’re my idol.”

Someone in the back gasped sharply, as if they had glimpsed a forbidden secret.

But George remained unflinching.

A faint smile curved his lips, brushing accidentally against hers.

“You’re very professional too. No one would guess you’re just pretending to be a doctor.”

Then his gaze snapped to me, standing in the shadows below the stage, eyes blazing with undisguised provocation.

I curved my lips into a smile and walked slowly onto the stage.

“Before the speech begins, let everyone enjoy Director Radcliffe’s ‘heroic deeds’ over the years.”

Without hesitation, I pressed play.

On the big screen, Kristen’s sultry cosplay photos began rolling.

Next came their chat records, hotel check-in logs, and transfer receipts, one after another.

Finally, the image froze on the two of them, sitting side by side, their smiles innocent only to those blind to the truth.

George slumped back into his chair, drained and pale, as if all the life had been sucked from him.

Kristen cried, her makeup ruined, yet a stubborn glimmer of pride lingered in her eyes.