From the beginning to the end, Cayden showed no outward reaction. But I could feel the tension in his body—he was holding something back, something unspoken.

As usual, he made coffee for me and brought it to my office.

"Baby," he said softly, his voice smooth as he handed me the cup, "I put more sugar in today’s coffee. I thought you’d like it."

He hugged my waist from behind, his touch warm and familiar.

"You go ahead," he continued, his tone casual. "I’ll ask my assistant to heat up your meal at noon."

I nodded, appreciating the gesture, and he quickly moved to his work.

But as we passed by Sydney’s desk, Cayden’s voice cut through the air, cold and commanding.

"Come to my office."

I glanced at the colleagues nearby, catching snippets of their conversation.

"Sydney’s clearly upset today. Mr. President is going to give her another talking-to."

"Don’t even get me started. The last time they were in there for hours, arguing the whole time. When she came out, her eyes were all red, and she was stumbling like she could barely walk. Poor Sydney... still hasn’t quit being his secretary. If it were me, I would’ve left long ago."

"Same here. That man only pampers his wife. He doesn’t even notice us."

I couldn’t help but smirk at their words.

Really?

I hesitated for a moment before opening the monitoring terminal on my laptop. After a few quick adjustments, Cayden’s figure suddenly appeared on the screen.

This was the camera I had purchased just a few days ago—purely on a whim, intending to test its clarity by placing it in Cayden’s office. I hadn’t expected it to come in handy like this.

The office door was closed, and Sydney was sitting there, sulking with a cold expression. Cayden sighed, his tone soft yet laced with frustration, as he pulled her gently into his arms.

"You were trying to get under my skin again, weren’t you?"

Sydney pouted, clearly upset. "I told you," Cayden continued, his voice coaxing, "there was a special situation last night. My wife woke up, and I couldn’t leave."

He paused, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Don’t be angry. I’ll stay home tonight, use the excuse of a business trip, and be with you all night, okay?"

Sydney looked up at him, her eyes filled with doubt. "Who knows if you’re lying to me again?"

She crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. "You spend all your time with your wife, cooking for her and doting on her. Why can’t I ever get a taste of the food you make?"

She hit him playfully but with a pointed edge in her voice. "You’d better believe I’m going to eat all the food you brought for Kylie at noon today."

Cayden’s expression darkened instantly, his demeanor turning cold. "You dare?"

His voice grew firmer, almost threatening. "I’ve told you, don’t bring our personal matters into Kylie. If my wife hears any rumors, I won’t just fire you—I’ll make sure we never cross paths again. You’d better watch yourself."

Seeing the genuine anger in his eyes, Sydney froze. Her bravado faltered, and she quickly reached for his hand, her tone softer.

"I was just kidding," she murmured, her voice filled with a touch of fear. "I was upset last night. You left me, and you didn’t even bother to comfort me…"

Seeing Sydney's vulnerable state, a possessive gleam flickered in Cayden’s eyes. Without a word, he cupped the back of her head and kissed her with an intensity that left no room for hesitation.

Her soft moan escaped as she responded, her hands urgently tugging at his tie and unbuckling his belt.

"...Is the door locked?" Cayden’s voice was hoarse, his breath ragged.

She nodded quickly, her eyes wide with innocence, "It’s been locked for a while. Your wife won’t find out."

I stared at the computer screen in disbelief, tears welling up in my eyes.

Their impatience was palpable. They couldn’t even wait for the night to be alone; they were already losing themselves in each other’s arms in the office. Disheveled, with no regard for the consequences.

I fought back the urge to rush in, yet I couldn’t look away. I watched the entire thing unfold, silently recording the scene as evidence.

Cayden... so this is what you’ve been hiding from me all along.

Over an hour later, they lay in each other's arms, panting, tangled in the aftermath.

"Hate it," Sydney murmured, her voice weak with exhaustion. "You always bully me like this... why don’t you treat your wife the same way? My waist hurts so much, and my legs feel like they won’t hold me up..."

Cayden lounged casually in his chair, a playful smile curving his lips as he cupped her chin and kissed her softly.

"Feeling better now?" He asked, his voice low and teasing.

She smiled, her cheeks flushed. "There's another one tonight. Remember to wear something sexy and wait for me at the hotel."

"Got it," Sydney replied shyly, her tone barely above a whisper.

With a contented sigh, she marked his neck once more, leaving a red imprint before she gathered her clothes and walked out of the office, pretending to be angry.

As she passed by her colleagues, they offered their usual comforting words.

But I couldn’t help but feel a bitter laugh bubble up inside.

So, this is how it’s been for the past two years—putting on a façade of discord, while secretly playing their little games right under my nose.

At lunch, Cayden had made sure my food was heated 20 minutes ahead of time and personally delivered it to me.

"Here, try the shrimp I made for you," he said, his voice dripping with sweetness. "You like light dishes, right? I improved the secret recipe just for you..."

I couldn't help but notice the faint marks on his neck from Sydney, still visible under his collar. My stomach turned.

"I’m not hungry anymore. Let’s go out for some fresh air," I said, pushing the food aside.

From behind, I heard the voice of the secretary. "Miss Kylie, if you don’t want to eat, can I try it?"

Cayden’s expression hardened, but Sydney smiled, unfazed, continuing to play her little game.

"I envy Mr. Jenkins for cooking for you," she said with a sly grin. "I wonder if his cooking is better than my boyfriend’s?"

I saw through her every word, every little scheme, and pushed the lunch box toward her. "You eat it."

I stood up, wanting to get some air. Cayden followed, but I stopped him with a simple gesture.

"You go ahead. I’ll take a walk downstairs."

Making my way to the underground garage, I found his car, and with practiced ease, turned on his dashcam.

I’d never been the type to go through his things. I always believed that trust was essential in a marriage.

But, at that moment, I saw them—Cayden and Sydney—again, this time in the car. I watched as they exchanged intimate moments, unaware of the screen recording.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away, hearing their conversation, untouched by the filter of secrecy.

“Did you put this in my pocket? Kylie saw it. If she finds out, you’re done.”

Cayden’s voice was cold, sharp.

The girl’s tone was laced with regret, but there was no real remorse in it. “Last time, I didn’t finish it, and I forgot…”

He said nothing in response, but Sydney was quick to soften his mood. She leaned forward, coaxing him with soft, pleading words.

“I’m sorry. I’ll remember next time, Cayden. It won’t happen again. Don’t be mad, don’t ignore me…”

Her words worked their magic, and before long, the car was filled with the unmistakable sound of their breath, rapid and heavy.

Enough. I closed my eyes, the suffocating truth settling in my chest.

What more proof did I need? It was all right there, clear as day.

I turned away, needing to breathe. I walked downstairs, dialing my father, who was overseas.

“Dad, can you help me change my identity?”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, then his surprised voice.

“Did I hear that right? My daughter finally figured it out and wants to join me abroad?”

I took a steady breath before continuing, “I want to be someone else. Kylie in Las Vegas… she’s gone.”

My father’s concern was evident. “Changing your identity isn’t an issue. But your husband loves you so much. He stays by your side all the time. Do you think he’ll let you go that easily?”

A small, bitter smile tugged at my lips. “He doesn’t know.”

I had told him once that if I ever discovered he was lying to me, I would disappear from his world completely.

And now, I have prepared the perfect gift for him—my departure.

It would be a memory he would carry for the rest of his life.

The days passed, eerily calm, like the surface of a lake untouched by a single ripple.

I didn’t quit my job, nor did I make any grand declarations about leaving. I simply applied to have my identity erased, quietly erasing every trace of myself from Las Vegas.

"Baby, you look so tired," he said, concern lacing his voice. "Do you want to go home and rest for a while?"

Cayden kissed me from behind, his lips pressing against my neck with an intensity that bordered on obsession.

“If you want to rest, just let me know anytime—”

His words drifted, but the weight of his unspoken suggestion hung in the air.

“I’d be even happier if you got pregnant with our baby sooner…”

There it was again, the hint that I should leave my job. Maybe he resented the time I spent working, or perhaps he was eager to speed up his plans with the secretary.

I let out a soft laugh. “Okay.”

Suddenly, Cayden’s mood lifted, his eyes lighting up with genuine excitement. “Are you serious? Kylie, you really agree?”

Before I could answer, the elevator doors opened, revealing Sydney stepping inside.

Cayden froze, his expression shifting. “You go ahead. We’ll wait for the next one.”

Sydney flashed a smile, her gaze lingering on me as she spoke.

“Miss Kylie, come on, the elevator isn’t full. You can come up with me.”

She added, her tone almost teasing, “Sir, we’re all under the same roof. Why the cold shoulder? Maybe if you showed a little of Miss Kylie’s gentleness, your employees wouldn’t be so dissatisfied.”

I didn’t respond. Her words felt too pointed, too intentional.

Cayden, visibly irritated, gripped my hand tighter. “You talk too much, Sydney.”

We stepped out of the building, but before we could leave, a group of men with malicious intent suddenly blocked Sydney’s path.

“Hey Syd, you’re so beautiful. Where are you heading?” One of them asked, his voice laced with ill intent.

Another chimed in, “Why don’t you come home with us?”

...

Cayden briefly glanced away, then took my hand as we continued toward the car. I let out a soft laugh.

“Don’t you want to go check on her?” I teased.

He shrugged, feigning indifference. “What does it have to do with me? I’m only concerned with taking care of my wife. The rest don’t matter.”

But I could see through his lie. His body was rigid, betraying his calm facade.

Once inside the car, Cayden seemed distracted, his thoughts far from the present. He sat there, motionless, the engine still off.

“Kylie,” he said, hesitating for a moment, “I just realized I forgot the car keys.”

He paused, then looked at me urgently. “Stay here. I’ll go grab them from upstairs.”

I nodded, but as he rushed out of the car, something fell off. I followed, silently slipping out of the vehicle.

What I saw next made my heart sink.

Instead of heading back to the office, Cayden dashed in the opposite direction, straight toward where Sydney had been taken.

I watched, helpless, as he threw himself into the fray without hesitation. Years of training in fighting had sharpened his instincts, and he fought fiercely, disregarding his own safety. His punches and kicks landed with precision, forcing the men back.

“Sydney, don’t be afraid,” he called out, his voice low but firm. “I’m here. No one will hurt you while I’m around.”

Cayden held Sydney in his arms, his face clouded with worry as he stared down at the girl crying softly in his embrace. He was so focused on her pain that he didn't notice me standing just behind, watching them, tears welling in my eyes.

If only he turned around, he'd see me—his wife—watching the scene unfold.

Seeing that Sydney's leg appeared to be injured, Cayden gently lifted her, his distress deepening. “Let me take you to the hospital.”

Through her tears, Sydney whispered, “Aren’t you going to take your wife home? How will you explain this to her?”

The sound of my phone buzzing interrupted the moment. I checked it, and it was a message from Cayden: “Dear, I have something urgent. Let my assistant take you home first. Be good.”

I shut my phone off, but the image in front of me didn’t fade. Cayden, oblivious, carefully supported Sydney as they moved toward the other side, away from me.

As Sydney rested her head on his shoulder, she flashed at me a knowing, almost taunting smile.

What Cayden didn’t know was that this whole scene was a setup—carefully orchestrated by Sydney. Two days ago, she had come to me, looking innocent, urging me to step aside, to give up my place. Then, she had made a bet: Who was more important to Cayden?

He was so lost in his emotions, so distracted by his concern for her, that he never questioned the circumstances. He didn’t think twice about why a group of people with ill intentions had suddenly shown up downstairs of the building. They weren’t strangers—they were actors, hired by Sydney to stage this scene.

"Kylie," she had said, her voice dripping with malice. "You really think your precious husband is devoted only to you?"