They Called My Ageless Wife My Mistress

The photos were crystal clear, taken from a deliberately chosen angle that made them look almost like surveillance footage.

I had always joked that my wife would be eighteen forever, a beauty untouched by time.

Still, I would never have imagined that a little running joke would land me in a mess like this.

Within seconds, dozens of messages flooded the group chat.

[Mr. Lane, who's that?]

[She looks so young!]

[A hotel late at night? That's not a good look.]

I stared at the photos for a few seconds before typing my reply: [That's my wife.]

The group chat fell silent for three whole seconds. Then someone sent a question mark.

What followed was a flood of laughter.

Selene chimed in, her words dripping with sarcasm. [Now, that's a good one, Mr. Lane. Your wife looks even younger than my little sister. Is she a college freshman or a sophomore?]

I did not bother responding. I closed the group chat and checked the timestamp on the photos.

Last Wednesday, Kayla and I had been out of town on a business trip, staying at that very hotel. She had gone to discuss a project, and I tagged along to keep her company.

Who had taken these pictures? Why were they being circulated now?

My phone vibrated again. This time, it was a private message from Issac: [Steven, you can forget about getting promoted this time.]

I let out a cold laugh and ignored him.

I spent six years in the product department, and not once had any of the projects under my supervision suffered a major failure.

Yet Issac had consistently blocked my advancement.

It was not that he doubted my abilities. The problem was that his niece, Selene, was also in the running for the director's promotion.

Selene revised her proposal four times, and the client had not approved a single version.

In the end, I was the one to take over the project. I spent nineteen days making up for lost ground, filling in the missing requirements and pushing the contract to the finish line.

If I secured the promotion, Selene would have no choice but to remain an ordinary product manager.

Therefore, Issac was not about to let that happen.

I packed up my things and headed downstairs. When I reached the elevators, several colleagues spotted me and immediately turned away, pretending they had not seen me.

Inside the elevator, two interns were whispering to each other.

"Have you heard? Mr. Lane is keeping a college girl on the side."

"Seriously? He always seemed like such a decent guy."

"The pictures are already out. How could it be fake?"

I stood right behind them, but they were so engrossed in their gossip that they did not notice me at all.

When the elevator reached the first floor and the doors slid open, they turned around and found me standing there. Their faces drained of color.

I walked past them without saying a word.

Back in my car, I did not start the engine right away.

My phone screen still displayed the three photos. In the first, Kayla had her arm linked through mine. In the second, she was smiling, her face turned slightly to the side. The third showed nothing but my back, with the timestamp enlarged until it practically screamed for attention.

This was not someone casually snapping a few pictures for office gossip. No one would have gone to such lengths to capture those particular angles without a reason.

Issac was not simply trying to humiliate me.

He wanted to brand me as a man of questionable morals before the company announced its promotion decisions.

That way, even if the investigation turned up nothing, the board would still have doubts about whether appointing me was a wise move. Then Selene would emerge as the safest alternative.

I saved all three photos under the name "Original Evidence."

Then I sent myself an email. It contained just one sentence.

[Document Everything from Here On.]