Traces Of Another Woman

I've always been one to settle scores.

The next evening, at a major industry charity gala, I was a special guest. After Victoria finished her project presentation, I took the stage and, with surgical precision, pointed out every fatal flaw in her proposal in front of our peers and the media. I tore her "perfect" plan to shreds, leaving her humiliated.

As she stepped off the stage, head bowed, even her forced smile couldn't conceal the burning hatred in her eyes.

Back at my seat, I opened a tracking app on my phone. The previous night, while Liam was on the balcony texting Victoria, I had activated a hidden tracker in the custom Hermès keychain I’d given him.

Sure enough, his icon was on the move. He had left the gala and was driving toward the Pinnacle Grand Hotel downtown. The irony wasn't lost on me. It was the same hotel where we'd held our wedding five years ago.

My phone's wallpaper was still a photo from our wedding. Liam, in his custom suit, held my hand, his eyes brimming with tears of joy. Who could have imagined that five years later, he would be meeting another woman in the exact same place?

But I didn't rush to follow. Proof of the affair was crucial, but a simple photo of them in bed wasn't enough to ruin them.

In our circles, infidelity was merely idle gossip, often flaunted rather than hidden. But Liam had overlooked one key detail: the Pinnacle Grand Hotel was a Vance family property.

I called the hotel's general manager and instructed her to upgrade Liam's reservation to the "Celestial" Suite, free of charge. That particular suite, of course, was equipped with comprehensive hidden cameras I'd had installed for "special security drills."

The manager called back promptly. "Ms. Vance, we've informed Mr. Miller of the complimentary upgrade, citing his anniversary. He was thrilled. Didn't even blink at the mention of the wedding."

So much for his capacity for shame. He felt no guilt at all. Fine. That made things simpler. I would no longer hold back.

It was almost time. I had my assistant, Jessica, schedule my next meeting at the Pinnacle's Michelin-starred restaurant. As I was leaving my office, I caught her frantically texting someone.

The fish had taken the bait. I knew exactly who she was texting. My assistant was Victoria's mole. For months, she had been accepting expensive gifts from Victoria, which I’d known about but ignored, assuming Victoria was just trying to curry business favor.

Now it all made sense. Jessica had been their informant all along, feeding them my every move. No matter. An exposed spy is a useful tool.

I drove slowly to the hotel. Just before I entered, I spotted Liam and Victoria peeking out from behind a booth before quickly ducking out of sight.

Perfect. Pretending not to have seen them, I glided to my reserved table with its panoramic view.