Chapter 1Her Boyfriend, My Husband

After a month of overwork, I decided to take a break and escape to our family’s resort, Serenity Peak.

The moment I stepped into the lobby, my eyes locked onto the giant screen looping a promotional video.

There was my husband, Ben, kissing a woman with a killer body in a steamy private pool.

The tagline read: 【Love her? Bring her for a private spa experience.】

My blood ran cold.

I went straight to the front desk, where an innocent-looking girl greeted me.

“Hi, when was this video filmed? Are they professional models?”

She beamed, envious. “We shot it just days ago! That’s one of our employees and her boyfriend. Aren’t they perfect?”

I kept my tone light. “Could you ask her to come? I’d love to compliment her—she’s so photogenic.”

Unsuspecting, she made the call. “Isabelle! A guest wants to see you—she’s a fan!”

Soon, a woman in a supervisor’s uniform appeared.

“How can I help you?”

* * *

Her smile was professional and sweet, but the instant she saw my face, it froze on her lips and morphed into a flash of panic. She quickly looked down, her fingers clattering aimlessly on the keyboard.

“How… how can I help you?”

A slow smile spread across my face. “I’d like to book your best private suite.”

The woman, Isabelle, was tall and curvy, radiating a wild, untamed allure. I suddenly remembered how Ben used to pinch my cheeks and tell me I was too thin, that there was nothing to hold onto. I’d thought he was being caring. Now I realized he just preferred more… substance.

She held out a key card. I didn’t take it. Instead, I smiled.

“Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

Another receptionist nearby recognized me and chimed in cheerfully. “Grace! It’s been too long. This is our new front desk supervisor, Isabelle. She used to be a fitness instructor. Ben actually recommended her for the job.”

She then turned to Isabelle. “Isabelle, this is Ben’s wife. You should call her Grace.”

Isabelle’s eyes dropped even lower, her voice barely a whisper. “Hello, G-Grace.”

I almost laughed out loud. The sultry vixen from the video, the one who looked like she wanted to permanently attach herself to my husband’s body, was suddenly meek as a mouse? Pathetic.

I finally took the key card she’d been holding out and glanced at the room number, my brow furrowing.

“This isn’t your best suite, is it?”

The color drained from her face. She bit her lip, struggling for words, before finally forcing out an explanation. “I’m sorry, Mr. Vance… he prefers the south-facing rooms. For the sunlight. I just… did it out of habit.”

A cold, humorless laugh echoed in my mind. Was she trying to show me that she knew my husband’s preferences better than I did? How pathetically low-class.

I was one of the original investors in this resort. I remembered Ben holding my hand, telling me gently that he didn’t like me coming to places like this alone, that he would always bring me himself if I needed to unwind.

Now I knew why. He just didn't want me to crash his party.

My gaze swept over Isabelle’s flustered face, then moved down, stopping at her slender wrist.

“That’s a unique watch.”

Isabelle forced a dry laugh. “Oh, this? It’s just something I wear for fun.”

I smiled without a word.

The watch was a limited-edition Vacheron Constantin, a gift from my father to Ben when they first met. There were only three in the world. Because of its sentimental value, Ben kept it locked in the safe in his study.

And here it was, on the wrist of a stranger.

Just then, a notification from Ben popped up on my phone.

“Grace, you’re at the resort?”

I raised an eyebrow. As I looked up, I saw Isabelle hastily shoving her own phone back into her pocket.

I scoffed internally and typed out a reply.

“Yes, just came to relax. Should I save a room for you?”

My tone must have sounded normal, because I could practically feel his relief through the screen. A voice message came back instantly.

“No need, honey. You just have a good time. Love you.”

I stared at the transcribed words, "Love you," and my stomach churned. When I looked back at Isabelle, she had composed herself and was attempting to make small talk, as if nothing had happened.

What an idiot.

I ignored her, turned, and walked out of the lobby, dialing my father's assistant. My dad’s company, at my urging, had just signed a massive contract with Ben's firm two days ago.

“Mr. Davis, please halt the execution of that contract. And find me the best divorce attorney you can.”

“Yes, a divorce. Ben… he’s filthy.”