Every photo oozed a strong, seductive allure.

The most recent selfie was taken at the hotel where Clayton was staying on his business trip tonight.

I hadn’t slept a wink, scrolling through her posts for what felt like hours.

It became clear Odessa’s recent updates were nothing but a blatant flaunt in front of me.

Six months ago, she’d posted: [Came back halfway, my boyfriend almost died of shock, the original plan failed, but he made it up to me the next night at the hotel.]

That incident had nothing to do with a rear-end accident or discussing compensation.

They’d originally planned to fool around at home, but when I showed up, they had to change their plans on the fly.

The following night, Clayton claimed he had to work overtime and stayed out all night.

Three months ago, she posted a picture of a man and a woman holding hands. The man wore a wedding ring that looked strikingly similar to Clayton’s.

[My boyfriend loves me so much. To make it easier for us to meet, he bought me a place in the unit next door! Of course, I had to repay him in bed.]

At the time, Clayton had said he’d left his wedding ring at the office.

It turned out the ring had been left at his lover’s house.

A month ago, she posted a photo taken in a private cinema, the shot only revealing the man’s sexy collarbone.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the red mole on his collarbone—exactly like Clayton’s.

If my memory served me right, that day had been the anniversary of my parents’ death.

Clayton had promised to accompany me to the cemetery, but when he received a phone call, his expression shifted.

"Irene, a client urgently needs my attention. I have to rush over."

But he didn’t go to meet any client.

Instead, he was in the private cinema Odessa had arranged, lost in a moment of romantic bliss.

I cried uncontrollably at the cemetery while he was wrapped in another woman’s arms, his eyes glowing with desire.

I watched all night long, and by the time the first light of dawn broke, I still couldn’t sleep.

I got up to buy some breakfast, my mind foggy, stumbling through the streets. As I walked in a daze, a car came speeding toward me, and at that moment, a strong hand yanked me back.

"Irene," Matias stood there, his face etched with concern. After a brief pause, he spoke, his voice soft but steady.

"You’ve seen all those videos, haven’t you?"

I nodded, silently inviting him to continue.

We sat in a café, Matias’ hands twisting together nervously, his unease palpable.

"Irene," he began, his voice full of regret. "I’m sorry you had to find out like this, but you deserve to know the truth."

I studied him closely.

"But aren’t you Clayton’s closest friend?" I asked, my voice laced with suspicion.

"You two have been inseparable since university, built the family business together... shouldn’t you be helping him cover his tracks?"

I raised an eyebrow, the sarcasm dripping from my words.

"Why would you be willing to tell me all this, Matias?"

Clayton had trusted him completely, never hiding anything, even when he was with his lover, oblivious to Matias watching.

Matias froze for a moment, his lips curling into a bitter smile.

"I didn’t think you’d still be in the dark after all these years."

His gaze shifted upward, locking with mine, a strange intensity behind his eyes.

"Irene," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "because I like you."

I froze; my breath caught in my throat.

His voice was gentle but held a weight and he continued, "Irene, all these years, my friendship with Clayton was because of you."

A small, rueful smile tugged at his lips as he added, "I even liked you before he did."

Matias, Clayton, and I had known each other since university, and Clayton and I had fallen in love at first sight. In what felt like the blink of an eye, we had become a couple, a love story that spanned from campus to marriage for eight years.

But Matias, Matias had never once dated anyone.

Everyone around us had whispered, joked even, about his “unusual” orientation, but he had always stayed distant, refusing to get close to any woman.

"See? I’m an actor, Irene. No one ever figured it out, did they?"

He lowered his eyes, a self-deprecating smile curving his lips as if to laugh at his own hidden truth.

"You—you're joking, right?"

I hurriedly grabbed my coffee, taking a sip to mask the nervous tremor in my hands. But the hot liquid burned my throat, and I winced.

Matias, ever the observant one, skillfully handed me a napkin.

"I know you love Clayton, and he loves you too. I had planned to bury this love in my heart forever."

"But I never expected that just a few years later, he'd be hiding another woman."

"Irene," his voice softened, "I can’t bear to let you be deceived any longer."

"Leave him," he urged his voice low and filled with yearning. "I’ve been waiting for you all this time."

Matias had gone on a business trip with Clayton. But sensing my distress, he had returned in the dead of night, rushing back to meet me, fearing I might do something reckless once the truth came out.

I managed a faint smile, a weak shield against the storm brewing inside me.

"Don’t worry, I won’t do anything foolish.”

"At least not until I get back what’s mine."

As I left the café, lost in thought, my phone buzzed.

It was a message from Clayton.

"Baby, my trip ended early today. I got you your favorite strawberry cake. Wait for me at home."

He even sent a picture of the cake, the sugary sweetness taunting me.

I didn’t respond, my mind calculating our shared assets in silence.

Clayton had loved me once enough to trust me with everything. After six years of marriage, the safe’s password was my birthday, and the bank account number mirrored it.

He had once said, with a look of devotion in his eyes, "Both the money and I belong to you, Irene."

He had sworn, his voice thick with emotion, "If I ever do anything to hurt you, Irene, let me leave with nothing and die an untimely death."

Those vows, spoken in earnest, had probably slipped from his memory long ago.

But I remembered every word.

I packed the videos Matias had sent me, the ones exposing Clayton’s infidelities, and sent them off to my lawyer.

Of course, I didn’t forget the evidence I’d painstakingly gathered from Odessa’s WhatsApp, staying up all night to piece it together.

As soon as I closed my laptop, I felt him, Clayton, wrap his arms around me from behind.

"Irene, I missed you so much.”

He brought the chill of the outside with him. And though he tried to hide it, a faint trace of another woman’s scent lingered on him.

I silently pushed him away. "Wasn’t your business trip supposed to last three days? Why are you back so soon?"

Clayton smiled, his face full of tenderness, as his hand gently caressed my cheek.

"Did you forget what tomorrow is?"

I froze for a moment. "Our sixth wedding anniversary?"

"Exactly."

He gave a playful scratch to my nose.

"Even with my busy schedule, I can’t miss coming home to spend our anniversary with my good girl."

I inwardly sneered.

He had no idea. I had just seen Odessa’s update on her Instagram.

She had posted, [Someone’s truly heartless, satisfies himself and leaves. But luckily, tomorrow, he promised me an even more exciting experience.]

In the hotel suite, Clayton had arranged a grand celebration.

A two-tiered cake stood before me, the words "Grow old together, Happy forever" scrawled across it.

The irony was almost suffocating.

Clayton had always kept me from drinking too much, but tonight, he insisted on pouring me a few more glasses.

"Irene, I’ll be by your side. Don’t worry, just drink up. The driver will take us home later."

I could see the mockery dancing in his eyes—his plan was clear. He wanted me drunk so he could slip away unnoticed to meet his lover.

Fifteen minutes ago, as he sliced into the cake, a message flashed across his phone.

"I’m here, waiting for you in the bathroom."

The profile picture that appeared was one I recognized all too well: Odessa.

Suddenly, everything clicked. Her cryptic Instagram post last night, "That more exciting experience tomorrow," had been a prelude to this moment.

A voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Your dishes have arrived."

Clayton’s body stiffened, his eyes widening in disbelief.

And there she was, Odessa, disguised as a waitress, carrying the food.

She set the dishes down with deliberate slowness, her fingers brushing Clayton’s in a way that left nothing to the imagination.

"What are you doing here? Get out!"

Clayton scolded her in a low voice, his tone sharp but controlled.

"I missed you," Odessa murmured with a faint smile, her gaze darting to me provocatively before she sauntered off.

Clayton froze, his expression tightening. He hesitated for a moment, but when he noticed the lack of reaction on my face, he exhaled in relief.

"Irene, I’ve got a bit of a stomachache. I need to use the bathroom."

"Don’t wander off. I’ll be back in just a few minutes."

I lowered my gaze, a mocking smile tugging at my lips. "Go ahead."

Without another word, he practically bolted as if escaping some unseen threat.

Barely a minute later, I stood and made my way to the bathroom.

As I approached, faint murmurs of scolding drifted through the door, the tension behind them unmistakable.

"Do you have a death wish? Why did you deliberately show yourself in front of my wife?"

The harsh sound of a belt-tightening against wrists followed.

The girl whimpered, her voice trembling with hurt. "You’ve been with her all this time. I waited for you for so long, but you didn’t come. I had no choice but to check on you..."

"Besides, I was in a waitress uniform. Your wife wouldn’t have recognized me. She won’t suspect a thing."

Clayton let out a cold snort, sharp and dismissive.

Soon, her pleading voice turned soft and tearful.

"I’m sorry... I won’t appear in front of your wife again..."

Their voices mingled, low and intimate, filling the silence.

I pressed my back against the wall, despair gripping my chest as tears streamed down my face.

"Are you wearing it?" her teasing voice suddenly broke through.

Clayton’s sneer carried through the thin wall. "No need. If she gets pregnant, she’ll keep the baby."

Odessa laughed, her tone triumphant.

"Clayton, I knew you loved me. Otherwise, why wouldn’t you ever use protection?"

Clayton’s voice dropped, sharp and scornful. "Irene is afraid of the pain. That’s why I didn’t let her have children. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be any of this with you."

A bitter smile curled on my lips, the taste of betrayal thick and suffocating. This wasn’t the man I thought I knew.

Separated only by a thin wall, he used the guise of our anniversary to steal moments with his lover.

Was he so intoxicated by youthful allure? Or was it the thrill of something forbidden that kept him hooked?

I shook my head, heartbreak clawing at my chest and turned to leave. Just as I pivoted, I was suddenly pinned against the wall.

Matias, his eyes burning red with emotion, held me firmly in place.

"Irene, why do you insist on torturing yourself like this?"

It turned out he had been silently watching me from the shadows all along.

"If he’s betrayed you, why not take revenge? I wouldn’t mind being your weapon for payback..." he said, his voice dropping as he leaned in to kiss me.

But I pushed him away before he could get any closer.

A flicker of sadness danced in his eyes before he masked it with a bitter smile. "I knew it, Irene. You still love him, don’t you?"

I shook my head, my voice steady. "Not at this moment."

His gaze lingered on me, searching for something unspoken.

I let out a cold sneer. "I might consider dating you, but only after I’ve divorced him."

A look of stunned disbelief crossed Matias’s face. "You’re serious?"

"Fine. I’ll wait for you."

"Walk with me. I need to sober up," I said.

Half an hour later, Clayton emerged from the bathroom, his expression smug and satisfied. But when he returned to the suite, I was nowhere to be found.

He panicked.

"Irene! Where did you go?"

His calls came through, but I silenced them, letting his desperation echo unanswered.

When he finally found me, I was walking toward the suite door with Matias by my side.

"Irene, where on earth were you? I called, and you didn’t answer. You scared me!" he exclaimed, pulling me into an eager embrace, his relief palpable.

"Good girl, don’t wander off again. You gave me quite a fright."

"Thanks, Matias. You’re such a reliable brother. I owe you a meal for bringing Irene back."

He clung to his fantasy, preferring to believe I had simply gotten lost and that Matias had been my savior rather than confront the truth of his own betrayal.

As we made our way back, I broke the silence. "If I ever disappeared for real, would you be this worried?"

Clayton pulled me closer, his tone sickeningly tender. "Of course, Irene. You’re my whole world."