My husband was secretly seeing his secretary, and I found proof in the back seat of his car. Instead of confronting him, I sent it to her husband with one note: “You deserve to know.” Hours later, he uncovered bank records revealing an even bigger secret.

They were being withdrawn from a strategic reserve fund we had created years earlier for emergencies and major vendor obligations.

Andrew shook his head.

“She doesn’t make anything close to that kind of money. For months, she’s been telling me she sleeps at her parents’ house whenever she works late. I finally called them. She lied.”

I photographed every document.

Then I drove home.

The moment I stepped inside, I heard drawers slamming upstairs.

I followed the noise to our bedroom.

Ofelia was searching through my belongings.

My dresses were scattered across the floor.

Files had been pulled from drawers.

A wooden box holding my father’s old keepsakes had been overturned.

“What exactly are you looking for?” I asked.

She didn’t even look embarrassed.

“Mark needs the security tokens and reserve-account records. He has urgent vendor payments.”

“They’re not here.”

Ofelia clicked her tongue.

“No wonder my son got tired of you. Whenever he needs something, you make everything difficult.”