Chapter 2

From that day on, I began to watch Chloe quietly.

She started coming home late more and more often. Her excuses were always the same.

Overtime, corporate training, or dinner with important clients.

Her phone never left her hand. She even took it into the shower and the restroom.

We used to know each other's phone passcodes—they were set to our wedding anniversary. But recently, she had secretly changed hers.

Any physical intimacy between us had dropped to zero.

Whenever I tried to get close, she would snap like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, throwing bitter words at my face.

"Carter, is sex the only thing inside your head? Why can't you put some of that energy into your career?"

"Look at Mr. Vance. He’s so young, yet he already owns his own development firm. And you? You've been a low-level designer for nearly ten years!"

"I don't want a man who only knows how to hover around the kitchen and the bedroom. I want a real provider, a winner!"

*Mr. Vance.*

The name felt like a needle piercing my eardrums.

The "Mr. Vance" she kept bringing up was Jackson Vance, a major client her company had recently signed.

He was a young, wealthy entrepreneur who threw money around like water. The contract to design his new office headquarters alone was worth a fortune.

Chloe had gushed about him more than once, talking about how powerful and charismatic he was. She didn't even try to hide her admiration.

Meanwhile, I—a designer who made around $10,000 a month and handed most of my paycheck over to her—had become a useless loser in her eyes.

I didn't lose my temper.

Without hard evidence, arguing was pointless. It would only tip her off.

But my chance came sooner than expected.

One night, Chloe came home dead drunk. She collapsed onto the sofa and passed out instantly.

The scent of Creed Aventus was stronger than ever. She was practically marinated in it.

I picked up her phone. Because she was completely out cold, the Face ID failed.

Taking a deep breath, I tried the passcode we used to share—our wedding anniversary.

*Click.*

The screen unlocked.

She probably thought I had forgotten the date, or she assumed I would never dare to check.

In this day and age, a person's deepest secrets are always locked inside their phone.

I didn't bother checking Snapchat or iMessage. Cheaters are always careful; she would have wiped those chat histories clean.

Instead, I opened her Amazon app.

Sure enough, the recent order history was completely blank.

But that wasn't going to stop me.

I tapped into her account settings and found the "Archived Orders" section.

It asked for a passcode again.

I tried Chloe's birthday.

*Incorrect.*

I tried the last six digits of her social security number.

*Incorrect.*

My heart started pounding. A wild, horrifying thought crossed my mind.