Chapter 4

"Sherry, what's the deal with you? Why are you mixed up with a woman like that? I'm telling you now—cut her loose immediately! She's nothing but trouble, and she'll use you without a second thought if it suits her!"

I didn't grasp the gravity of my friend's caution until I perused the contents of the file.

Tricia's incarcerated spouse had been found guilty of involuntary manslaughter—he had unintentionally killed her paramour in a moment of fury upon discovering their affair. The dossier also enumerated every man Tricia had ensnared over time. Without fail, they were all accomplished in their respective domains, much like Miguel.

Miguel, naturally, was likely oblivious to all of this.

I dedicated the entire day to gathering proof of his unfaithfulness. As night fell, I made my way home, behaving as if nothing was amiss to avoid arousing suspicion.

Even after receiving the divorce papers from the attorney, Miguel had yet to return. He left only a brief text message.

[Sweetheart, I've got a medical symposium in another town the day after tomorrow. I'm burning the midnight oil on a proposal tonight and will crash at the office. Don't wait up, get some rest.]

I decided to put him to the test with a phone call.

"It's been ages—any news on a kidney donor for our daughter? Isn't your hospital supposed to be top-notch?"

Previously, he would have urged patience. This time, likely due to a guilty conscience, he fumbled through his explanation, rambling on to justify the delay.

I listened, a wry smile playing at my lips, before feigning helplessness. "Very well. Just ensure everything's arranged once a donor becomes available. Our daughter's fate rests in your hands, darling."

"Don't fret. I've got everything under control," he assured me.

The following day, he claimed his schedule was too packed to come home. That evening, he said he was putting the finishing touches on the proposal and had booked a hotel room in the other city for the night.

I knew he'd seize this chance to whisk that woman and her daughter away for a little escapade.

But I wasn't idle either. I reached out to a prison contact to verify Tricia's husband's release date, then forwarded him the address of Miguel's hotel.

Every great drama needs a star player.

Throughout our six-year marriage, Miguel had been too preoccupied spending my money to realize that the luxurious hotel he was staying at was part of my holdings.

The moment he and Tricia checked in, the front desk informed me of their room number. They also mentioned that the medical conference was attracting participants from across the nation, including esteemed specialists from leading hospitals.

I instructed them to discreetly install a hidden camera in Tricia's room while she took her daughter out for some "relaxation."

Such acts of generosity—using another's funds to save someone else's child—deserve recognition, after all.

That night, Miguel bombarded me with excited messages, playing the role of the devoted father.

[Honey, there's hope for our daughter! One of the conference attendees specializes in her condition. I'll try to discuss her case over dinner tonight!]

[But I might have to drink a bit, so I may not respond to your messages promptly.]

Using our daughter as a smokescreen for his affair—it was repulsive!

I scoffed and ignored him, pressing down on the accelerator as I raced through the night.

He must have caught the sound of the engine because he suddenly called.

"Honey, are you not at home? Why do I hear a car? Where are you at this hour?" he asked, perplexed.

Not wanting to raise alarm bells, I chuckled softly and replied, "I'm just collecting some documents from the office. What else would I be up to? Having an affair? Listen to how worried you sound!"

He laughed awkwardly, dropping the subject.

In the background, I heard the shower stop, and Miguel hastily ended the call.

By the time I reached the hotel, dawn was breaking.

After a swift check-in, I settled into my room to await the end of his conference.

The hidden camera in Tricia's room was linked to my phone.

Barely five minutes after the conference concluded, Miguel hurried eagerly into her room.