The Cheating Wife Case

Before heading out to find Gregory Volkov, I decided to wrap up the cheating wife case first.

I scoffed, shaking my head as I walked through the streets.

"Seriously, I can't believe cheating is this common. What the hell were authors thinking when they started making immature women into CEO billionaires? Half of them don't even have the qualities of a real billionaire—not even one cent's worth."

But this particular case wasn't even about some high-profile businesswoman.

No.

This was a simple case—a money-hungry bitch who got bored of her husband and decided to spread her legs elsewhere.

Pathetic.

Unlike my messy past with Abigail, this wasn't some complicated game of manipulation and power.

This was just another selfish woman thinking she could have it all.

And it was my job to expose her.

---

Stakeout – Catching the Act

I arrived at the hotel where the wife was supposedly meeting her side guy.

It wasn't anything luxurious—just a decent place in the city, private enough for affairs but not so cheap that it would draw suspicion.

I adjusted my black jacket, pulling out my phone and checking the time.

10:45 PM.

The husband had given me all the details. His wife usually met her "business partner" here every Thursday night.

I positioned myself across the street, hidden in the shadows, waiting.

A few minutes passed.

Then, finally—

A red sedan pulled up, and a woman stepped out.

Bingo.

The wife. Dressed too provocatively for a "business meeting."

A few seconds later, a man stepped out of the driver's seat.

Not her husband.

He was young, well-dressed, and a little too smug. The type of guy who thought he was untouchable.

I pulled out my camera, zooming in, and started taking pictures.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Clear evidence.

They walked into the hotel together, arms wrapped around each other.

I chuckled to myself. "Too easy."

I waited a few minutes, then walked across the street and entered the hotel lobby.

The receptionist barely glanced at me.

I pulled out a fake badge from my inventory—something that looked official enough. "Private Investigator. I need to know which room that couple just checked into."

The receptionist hesitated. "Sir, we have privacy policies—"

I slid a $100 bill across the counter. "And I respect that. But I also respect efficiency."

She swallowed, glancing around nervously before checking the system. "Room 709."

I nodded. "Good girl."

---

Busting the Scene

I made my way up to the 7th floor, my footsteps silent against the carpet.

Standing in front of Room 709, I could already hear moans from inside.

I rolled my eyes. "Disgusting."

Pulling out my phone, I started recording video.

Then, with a single powerful kick, I slammed the door open.

"Surprise, bitch."

The woman screamed, scrambling to cover herself with a bedsheet, while the man stumbled back in shock.

"W-Who the fuck are you?!" the guy shouted.

I held up my phone, the red recording light blinking. "The guy your husband hired to expose your whore ass."

Her face drained of color as she tried to grab my arm. "No—wait! I can explain!"

I stepped back. "Oh, I bet you can. But don't worry, I already have all the proof I need. Your husband's lawyer will be in touch."

I turned to the man, who still looked too stunned to move. "And you—hope she was worth it, because once her husband's done with her, she'll be coming after your wallet next."

He gulped, realizing the reality of the situation.

I smirked, tucking my phone away. "Enjoy the rest of your night."

With that, I walked out, leaving them in their mess.

---

Case Closed

I sent the evidence to the husband, along with a message:

"Case solved. File for divorce. She ain't worth a dime."

A minute later, he replied:

"Thank you. I'll make sure she gets nothing."

I grinned. "Good choice."

With that done, I tossed my phone into my pocket and headed back out into the night.

Time to focus on the real case.

Gregory Volkov… I'm coming for you.

As I walked through the streets, my mind drifted back to Volkov Industries.

They weren't just another big corporation—they were one of the most powerful forces in the business world. Their influence stretched across multiple industries, and even someone like Abigail Bardot—who acted like she owned the world—respected them.

"Bardot Industries? Just a worm compared to them."

I chuckled to myself. "She can play the CEO act all she wants, but next to the Volkovs, she's nothing."

But then, as I kept walking, my mind wandered further back.

The Past Samuel's Mistake

I still remembered the story.

My past self—Samuel Gebb—had left Abigail when she was at her lowest.

Her company was failing.

Her parents had just died.

And what did Samuel Gebb do?

He left her.

Not because he wanted to, but because his uncle, Mark, had promised to invest in Bardot Industries… on one condition.

"Leave Abigail."

And he did.

Maybe he thought he was helping. Maybe he thought it was the right thing to do.

But in the end…

Abigail rose to power.

And she never forgave him.

Instead, she pursued him, lured him in, made him believe she truly loved him.

And once he was trapped in her golden cage, she humiliated him.

She cheated.

She brought men to their bed—right in front of him.

She stripped him of his dignity, his pride.

And when he was at his lowest…

A mysterious disease struck his body.

It was supposed to be the final blow. The thing that would completely break him.

But then—I arrived.

With my Ashura Martial Knowledge, I repaired this body. I purged the sickness.

And now, I wasn't just Samuel Gebb anymore.

I Am Not Who I Used to Be

I smirked, the cold night air brushing against my face.

"She is not my concern anymore."

"Neither is my past self."

"Because I am not just Samuel Gebb."

I clenched my fist, feeling the raw power flowing through my body.

"I am Samuel Gebb, the Heavenly Demon."

And there was no way in hell I was ever going to bow to anyone again.