Chapter 5

I confronted Grant with the smart-lock records.

He pulled up several security clips showing Vanessa entering our home with project files in her arms.

“Our house is close to the office. It’s convenient for meetings.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Because it’s my house too. I don’t need your permission to bring an employee home for work.”

He accused me of monitoring the locks, searching the refrigerator, and becoming increasingly paranoid.

After that, he brought Vanessa home even more often.

He wasn’t trying to reassure me.

He was pushing the boundary on purpose, almost daring me to object so he could punish me again.

Technically, I still had no proof that they were having an affair.

Every visit had a work file.

Every late night had an explanation.

For a while, I questioned myself.

Maybe I had imagined the intimacy between them.

Maybe I really was the problem.

If I had put half the energy I spent analyzing Grant and Vanessa into my own career, I might have accomplished far more by now.

The next morning, Grant officially announced Vanessa’s promotion to Director of Development.

I was transferred downstairs to Records Review.

Everyone waited for me to fight back.

Instead, I placed my access card and the completed Harbor Point files on Vanessa’s desk.

Grant watched me do it and nodded with satisfaction.

He thought he had finally broken my resistance.

While they held a cocktail reception to celebrate Vanessa’s promotion, I booked my flight.

While they played golf with investors, I finished packing.

While they took publicity photos at Harbor Point, I completed my final handover.

Their celebration was beginning.

My life there was ending.

Two days later, I reached my final day at Whitmore Development.

After I completed my exit paperwork, Human Resources Director Rachel Foster stopped me.

“Before you leave, go up to the CEO’s office. Mr. Whitmore asked to see you.”

I almost refused.

But after tonight, Grant and I might never see each other again.

Three years of marriage deserved at least one formal goodbye.

The door to his office was slightly open.

Through the gap, I saw Vanessa standing in front of the floor-length mirror in a champagne-colored gown.

Her hair had been swept over one shoulder, leaving the back of her neck bare.

Grant stood behind her, fastening a necklace for her.

His fingers rested against her skin.

They were far too close for a CEO and his assistant.

I didn’t go inside.

I turned to leave.

Vanessa saw me in the mirror.

“Evelyn?”

Grant looked over his shoulder.

The softness on his face disappeared instantly.

“Who gave you permission to come in here?”

I stopped.

A month earlier, he had created a rule that no one could enter the CEO’s office without an appointment.

I had assumed the rule didn’t apply to his wife.

Clearly, I had been wrong.

“Rachel said you wanted to see me.”

Grant pressed the intercom and ordered Rachel upstairs.

“Did you tell Evelyn to come here?”

Rachel had completed my exit paperwork less than an hour ago.

She knew exactly why I was there.

But she also knew Vanessa was protected.

She looked at Grant, then at Vanessa.

“I… don’t remember.”

The entire company had learned the same lesson.

Telling the truth for me came with consequences.

Lying for Vanessa did not.

Grant gave a cold laugh.

“So now you’re using Human Resources to help you spy on Vanessa and me?”

“I didn’t.”

“You’re still lying?”

He walked toward me, his face full of disgust.

“Since you trust me so little, should I send you every minute of security footage from my office?”

“Or should I order the guards to report every person I meet and every conversation I have?”

Once again, Grant had crossed the line.

And once again, he stood on the moral high ground and made me the offender.

Behind him, Vanessa lowered her head.

But I could see the smile at the corner of her mouth.