Chapter 3

After sitting in the lounge for a while, Nicole started to feel drowsy. She turned off the lights, hoping to catch some rest. Just then, a few people walked over to the water cooler nearby.

"Life’s really getting sweeter, isn’t it?" one of them remarked.

"Right? A little overtime at the office, and we walk away with a thousand bucks in hush money. Mr. Ford’s really getting generous."

"All this just to keep Nicole Snow in the dark while he fools around with that starlet? Why not just get a divorce?"

"Watch what you’re saying! Mr. Ford made it clear that Miss Snow must never find out about his affairs. Don’t get reckless. Besides, what’s wrong with us getting paid? It’s been two years, and I’ve made quite a bit from this."

Their conversation ended as they walked away, leaving Nicole trembling on the sofa.

So, everyone in the company knew. They all knew Tristan was seeing another woman.

Everyone, except her. For two years, she’d been the only fool left in the dark.

Rising in the darkness, Nicole felt like a ghost as she shuffled toward the conference room.

The room was empty—everyone had already left. They must have assumed she’d fallen asleep and wouldn’t come looking, so they all cleared out.

But the projector was still on, and so were the lights.

Nicole had planned to seek Tristan. But just as she was about to leave, the projector buzzed softly, and a message popped up on the screen.

"Where did you go? Come back quickly. I want more."

"So needy? Didn’t I just satisfy you? I'm in the restroom. I’ll be quick."

"I can’t help it, I miss you. I can’t go a second without you. How about I wear that camisole again? I know how much you love it."

"You little tease. I’ll make it worth your while. Nicole’s asleep anyway. I’ll be back soon and make you beg for more."

Their messages flashed across the screen, forcing their filth into her vision.

The vulgar words made her stomach churn.

Nicole couldn’t believe it. How could the man she had loved for ten years stoop so low?

She remembered the first time he’d been intimate with her. He’d only kissed her gently, and his face had turned red all the way to his neck.

The moment he removed her clothes, Tristan trembled slightly.

Under the dim yellow light, he stroked her cheek, his voice thick with emotion.

"Nicky, I love you so much. I finally have you. It feels like a dream."

And yet, in just two short years, Lisa had completely transformed him into this.

The most infuriating part? He never behaved like this at home.

Rage swelled in Nicole’s heart as her nails dug into her palms. The sharp pain was unmistakable, yet she hardly noticed.

She walked to the office door, peering through the slats of the blinds. Inside, two undressed bodies entwined, their movements frantic and unrestrained.

They were on the desk, papers and objects scattered across the floor, neither of them caring. Lost in their passion, they continued as if the world outside didn’t exist.

Watching the scene unfold with her own eyes, Nicole couldn’t stop herself. She fled to the restroom and vomited violently.

She had no idea how long she stayed there, retching until her emotions began to settle.

By the time she emerged, Tristan and Lisa had finished.

Tristan’s hair was disheveled, his face flushed—undeniable signs of what had just occurred.

The moment he saw Nicole, he panicked.

"Where did you go? I couldn’t find you, and I was so worried!"

"Worried about me?"

Nicole’s gaze landed on the love marks on his neck. With a cold laugh, she said, "Worried about what? That I might wander off and see something I shouldn’t?"

Tristan’s expression shifted instantly. He quickly shook his head. "What are you talking about? There’s nothing for you to see. I just finished a meeting, and I’m exhausted. Let’s go back to bed."

"Weren’t you in the mood for intimacy earlier? Let’s go to your office."

Nicole grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the office.

Tristan froze, fear flashing across his face.

"No, not tonight. I’m exhausted. If you want, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, okay? I’m really too tired today."

Tristan was still pretending.

Nicole’s hand twitched, itching to slap him across the face.

But in the end, the slap never landed. She forced herself to swallow the searing pain in her heart and nodded stiffly.

"Fine. Let’s go back."

It didn’t matter anymore. None of it mattered to her now.