Chapter 2Her Boyfriend, My Husband

The first thing I did when I got home was march straight to the study. As expected, the safe was missing several items. This room was where we kept valuable antiques and art my father had gifted us, along with important documents. After marrying Ben, I’d been so wrapped up in our life together that I hadn’t paid much attention to material things. Ben managed everything here. At first glance, nothing seemed amiss. But on closer inspection, I realized everything that held true personal meaning to me was gone.

My face grim, I pulled up the feed from the hidden security camera.

And I saw it. In the very place I considered my private sanctuary, a disgusting drama had been unfolding.

May 7th: Their first time in my study. Isabelle was sitting on Ben’s lap at his desk, laughing and flirting.

August 29th: He canceled our anniversary trip, a trip we’d planned for months, only to spend the entire night video-chatting with her right here, whispering obscenities.

October 5th: I was staying at my parents’ house. He brought her home. They’d made love on top of my priceless art collection.

A violent wave of nausea hit me, and I ran to the bathroom, vomiting until I was dizzy.

The recording kept playing. The next scene showed Ben opening the safe. He took out the Vacheron Constantin watch, then his eyes landed on a blue folder.

My heart sank. A terrible premonition seized me.

That was the deed to a plot of land my grandfather left me. It was my wedding gift from him, given on his deathbed.

On the screen, I watched Ben hand it directly to Isabelle.

I stumbled back to the safe and frantically sorted through the remaining papers. There was a duplicate of the deed, but this one lacked the official seal. A forgery. My complete and utter trust in him meant I’d never once thought to check.

I collapsed to the floor, my body cold as I listened to Ben’s tender promise on the recording.

“Don’t worry. Even if I can’t make it official right now, I’ll never let you suffer.”

Isabelle put on a show of refusing. “Ben, this is too much, I can’t accept—”

Then, a figure I never expected appeared in the doorway.

“Oh, just take it, Isabelle! I’m the one who sent my cousin away on that stupid hike, just so Ben would have a chance to give you this surprise!” my own cousin, Zoe, chirped. “I played such a big part in this. You’d better save me a seat at the head table at your wedding!”

Seeing Zoe there, my own blood, I felt the world tilt on its axis. I remembered that day clearly. Zoe had begged me, tears in her eyes, to go with her to a temple on the west side of town. I’d spent half a day climbing a mountain with her, and my legs had ached for a week.

I trembled with rage. It wasn’t just my husband. My own family had conspired to betray me.

In the video, Ben pulled Isabelle into his arms, his eyes full of adoration. “What’s mine is yours. Why be so formal with me?”

Giving away the assets my grandfather left for me to his little mistress, and making it sound so noble. The irony was so immense it threatened to swallow me whole. In that moment, I wanted to find them and tear their faces off.

Just then, a friend request popped up on my phone. The person sent an image, then quickly retracted it.

But I’d already seen it.

It was a photo of Isabelle, grinning, holding up the blue folder and flashing a peace sign.

The caption read: “New home, secured!”

The background was a landmark right next to that plot of land.

Every last shred of my composure shattered.

I thought of my grandfather on his deathbed, his hand trembling as he pressed that folder into mine. I had been sobbing, telling him I didn't want anything, I only wanted him. But Ben had taken the folder for me, holding me tight as he made a solemn promise.

“Don’t worry, Grandpa. I’ll take care of Grace. I’ll never let her suffer.”

Grandpa had given one last, content smile, and then he was gone. I had cried until I passed out in the cold hospital hallway. It was Ben who held me, comforting me over and over. “It’s okay, Grace. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

After he died, I was lost in grief, unable to touch anything that reminded me of him. Ben handled everything—the funeral, my grandfather's belongings. My father had seen it all and told me Ben was a good man, someone I could truly depend on.

Who could have known that this man our entire family trusted had only ever been after our money?

The warning signs were there. The strange perfume on his clothes, the trendy slang he’d suddenly started using, the increasingly frequent "late nights at the office." I had made him my only emotional support, so I chose to lie to myself.

After retracting the photo, Isabelle sent another message.

“Oops, wrong person.”

It was followed by a few discount coupons for the resort.

I stared at the pathetic, malicious performance. I didn’t reply. Instead, I clicked on her social media profile. She must have forgotten to block me. Her latest post was the exact photo she had just retracted.

“Time for a new life to begin! Everyone’s invited to my housewarming party!”

The post was tagged with a location. It was my plot of land.

The most jarring part was the comment section. Ben had liked the post and left a comment.

“Congratulations on your new chapter, baby.”

I even saw a comment from my cousin Zoe.

“Congrats, Isabelle! A true independent woman of the new era. So proud of you!”

They all knew whose land that was, yet they could congratulate the thief on her “housewarming” with clear consciences.

My face was a cold mask as I stared at the screen.

I made a call, informing the land registry office that there was a dispute regarding the deed and requested an immediate freeze on the transfer of ownership.

Let's see who dares to touch my property without my signature.