Chapter 2

My third year married to Lucas.

To get closer to him, I hid my identity and took a job as an administrative assistant at Lucas's company.

I just wanted to see him a little more each day.

But on my third day at work, my colleague Chloe sent me a video.

The camera focused on a private room where Lucas and his beta Isabella sat side by side.

Isabella turned toward him, hooking her finger around Lucas's tie and pulling him close.

"Lucas," her voice carried a hint of intoxication, "do you have feelings for me or not?"

Lucas pressed her hand down, saying in a low voice: "Now's not the time to talk about this."

"Give me an answer, Lucas." Her voice rose slightly. She glanced at the others nearby, then looked back at him. "Right now. Tell me, do you love me or not?"

Lucas was silent for a few seconds, then raised his hand to rub his temples, his tone weary: "Do you have to do this?"

Isabella laughed, released his tie, casually picked up his drink and took a sip, then set down the glass, grabbed her bag, and got up to leave.

Lucas immediately stood up and briefly told the group: "Excuse me for a moment," then hurried after her.

The video ended. Chloe's message came right after: [They left together! Haven't come back all afternoon! Think something's going to happen tonight?]

I stared at the darkened screen, my fingertips numb.

Before I could catch my breath, my phone vibrated again.

Lucas's message popped up: [Working all night tonight, not coming home, don't wait up.]

My heart sank.

I called him right away.

At first, no one answered.

I called several times in a row.

The call connected.

"Honey, my phone was on silent, didn't hear it. What's wrong?"

"Honey, are you really not coming home tonight?" I asked through clenched teeth, my nails digging into my palm.

"Yeah, it's a get-together. Everyone's here. Can't leave. Hope you understand, honey."

"Are there women at your party?"

He paused, then laughed: "No, since when do you check up on me? Want to video chat so I can prove my innocence?"

Just then, I heard it.

The clear rustling sound of an expensive shirt rubbing against hotel sheets.

Then a suppressed, brief groan escaped from deep in his throat. "Mm..."

All the blood in my body seemed to freeze instantly.

After three years with Lucas, I knew exactly what that sound meant.

"No need for video..." I was afraid I might throw up. "You have fun. I'm going to bed."

"Honey," his voice was terribly hoarse, "we closed a big deal tonight. Starting tomorrow, everyone's going to be working overtime. I'll probably be working late, so don't wait for me for dinner these days."

The call ended.

I didn't sleep all night, already planning to confront Lucas directly tomorrow and hopefully leave him with nothing.

But at four in the morning, Lucas came home.

"Honey?" He obviously didn't expect me to still be awake. He froze for a moment, then showed his usual gentle smile. "Why aren't you asleep? Didn't I tell you not to wait up?"

"Where did you go?" I stared at him, my voice soft.

"Didn't I tell you? At a party?"

"Was it a party, or a date with another woman?"

"Sophie," he sighed, his voice full of exhaustion and helplessness, "did someone send you something? I admit, Isabella confessed to me at the party. But I turned her down. We've known each other so long—if I liked her, why would I have married you?"

"Besides..." He hugged me, his palm rubbing my neck, "wouldn't you know if I'd cheated on you?"

Calming down, I realized he was right.

When I was 18, he had already marked me.

If one mate cheats, the other suffers unbearably.

If Lucas had really cheated, how could I not feel the pain?

Maybe I really was overthinking it.

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