003: Do not trust her

Vivienne’s POV 

  The photos were perfect.

  I stared down at my phone screen, studying each image with the satisfaction of a chess player who just cornered her opponent's king. Adriana was wrapped in another man's arms. She was laughing with her face tilted up toward his. She was being spun around like she was weightless, her dress flying up around her legs.

  The lighting was good. The angles were even better. Anyone looking at these photos would see exactly what I wanted them to see, a woman meeting her lover while her husband was inside celebrating the biggest moment of his career.

  I put my phone back into my purse and smoothed down my black dress. The press conference was wrapping up inside, which meant Ethan would be coming out soon. I needed to position myself perfectly for this next part.

  The thing about men like Ethan Blake was that they were surprisingly easy to manipulate once you understood their weaknesses. Pride. Loyalty. The desperate need to be needed. I've been studying those weaknesses for months, ever since I realized that this broken hockey player could be my ticket to everything I ever wanted.

  A successful medical career was nice, but being the wife of a famous athlete? That was power, that was influence, and that was a life where people remembered your name.

  The only problem had been Adriana.

  Devoted, supportive, annoyingly perfect Adriana who apparently did everything possible to help her husband recover. The press loved their story, the loyal wife who never left his side, the love that conquered all. It was nauseating.

  But love stories like that had cracks if you knew where to look. And I was looking very carefully.

  The side door opened, and reporters began streaming out, chattering excitedly about Ethan's announcement. I checked my reflection in my phone camera, making sure I looked appropriately concerned but beautiful.

  "Dr. Laurent!" A young reporter waved at me. "Any comment on Mr. Blake's recovery? You must be so proud of your work with him."

  "Ethan's success is entirely his own," I said with practiced modesty. "I just provided the medical support. His determination and hard work made the miracle happen."

  The reporter scribbled notes, clearly eating up my humble act. "Will you be continuing to work with him in your new position with the team?"

  "I'm honored to have the opportunity to support not just Ethan, but all the players." I touched my hair, letting it catch the late afternoon light. "Sometimes the best medicine is knowing someone believes in you completely."

  More scribbling. These people were so easy to manipulate. Give them a story about dedication and sacrifice, and they wrote it down like gospel.

  The reporter moved on, and I went back inside the building to find Ethan.

  Finally, i saw him at a corner, still glowing from the attention and success. His golden brown eyes were bright with excitement, his hair slightly messed from running his hands through it.

  "Vivienne!" He spotted me immediately and came over, that athlete's grace making even simple movement look effortless. "Thank you for being here. Having you on stage with me meant everything."

  "Of course." I let my smile falter just slightly, just enough to plant the first seed. "Although..."

  "Although what?" His brow furrowed with immediate concern. Ethan was always so quick to worry, so eager to fix problems. It was one of his most useful traits.

  "Nothing. I don't want to ruin your big day." I looked down, playing with the strap of my purse. "You should be celebrating."

  "Vivienne, what is it? You can tell me anything."

  The sincerity in his voice message this so easy 

  "I saw something earlier, and I don't know if I should..." I trailed off, biting my lip like I was genuinely torn. "I don't want to cause problems between you and Adriana."

  His entire body went tense. "What kind of problems?"

  "Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe there's a perfectly innocent explanation." I pulled out my phone, holding it against my chest like I was protecting him from what was on the screen. "I just... I care about you too much to keep this to myself."

  "Vivienne, show me."

  I hesitated for exactly three seconds, long enough to seem reluctant, not long enough to lose his attention. Then I turned the phone toward him.

  The first photo filled the screen. Adriana in the arms of a tall, handsome man with dark hair. Her face was tilted up toward his, her expression soft and happy in a way I never seen her look at Ethan. At least, not recently.

  Ethan's face went completely still.

  "I was coming out to get some air when I saw them," I said softly, letting hurt creep into my voice. "I thought it might be innocent at first, maybe a friend she ran into. But then..."

  I swiped to the next photo. The man spinning Adriana around, both of them laughing like they shared the most wonderful secret in the world.

  "Ethan, I'm so sorry." I reached out and touched his arm, feeling the muscles coiled tight beneath his suit jacket. "I thought you should know."

  He stared at the screen, his jaw working like he was trying to process what he was seeing. "Who is he?"

  "I don't know. I've never seen him before." That was technically true. I had no idea who the guy was. But the fact that Adriana was embracing another man so intimately while her husband was inside being celebrated? That was enough.

  "They looked..." Ethan's voice was barely audible. "They looked like they know each other well."

  "I thought the same thing." I swiped to the next photo, this one showing the man's hands on Adriana's face, their bodies close together in what could only be described as an intimate moment. "The way he was touching her face... the way she was looking at him..."

  Ethan's hands clenched into fists.

  "Maybe there's an explanation," I continued, my voice carefully neutral. "Maybe he's a relative or an old friend. But the timing, Ethan... while you were inside announcing your comeback, she was out here with him."

  "She's been acting strange lately," Ethan said, more to himself than to me. "Distant. Like her mind was somewhere else."

  Perfect. I was laying the groundwork for this moment for weeks.

  "I noticed that too," I admitted quietly. "During your sessions, she always seemed like she had somewhere else to be. I thought maybe she was just tired from everything you've both been through."

  "I should have seen it." His voice was getting harder, anger starting to replace the shock. "All those nights she said she was tired, all those times she didn't want to celebrate my progress..."

  "Ethan, don't do this to yourself." I moved closer, close enough that he could smell my perfume, close enough that my concern felt intimate. "You've been focused on your recovery. You trusted her to be the person you thought she was."

  "Three years," he said, his voice rough. "Three years I thought she was supporting me, and she was..."

  "You don't know what she was doing," I said gently, though every word was calculated to make him think the worst. "These photos don't tell the whole story."

  But they told enough of a story. They told the story I needed them to tell.

  Ethan looked at the photos one more time, and I watched his face transform. He was very cold and furious.

  "Where is she now?" he asked.

  "I think she's still outside." I slipped my phone back into my purse. "Ethan, maybe you should think about how you want to handle this. Don't do anything you'll regret."

  But he was already walking toward the exit in long and determined strides and full of anger.

  I watched him go feeling warm satisfaction in my chest. By tonight, Adriana Nelson would be nothing but a memory, and Ethan would need someone to help him pick up the pieces of his broken heart.

  Someone like me.