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Exposing Husband's Deceit Novel Cover

Exposing Husband's Deceit

The silk sheets felt cold against my skin as I lay in our Manhattan penthouse, staring at the ceiling where shadows from the city lights danced in patterns that seemed to mock my happiness. Three hours. Ellis had been in the bathroom for three hours on our wedding night, and the champagne bubbles in my stomach had long since turned to lead. I traced the platinum band on my finger, still unable to believe I was Mrs. Spencer. The wedding had been everything I'd dreamed of—the cathedral ceremony, the reception at the Plaza, Ellis looking devastatingly handsome in his tailored tuxedo as he whispered promises of forever in my ear. Now, wrapped in the designer negligee I'd chosen specifically for this moment, I felt like a fool. Ellis's phone buzzed against the nightstand, the screen lighting up with Veronica's name. My sister-in-law's photo smiled back at me—that perfect, practiced smile she wore at every family gathering. The phone buzzed again, insistent.
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Chapter 3

The Spencer Corporation building gleamed like a fortress of glass and steel against the Manhattan skyline, its forty-story height a monument to old money and newer ambitions. I stood at the entrance, my heels clicking against marble that probably cost more than most people's cars, and felt the familiar weight of eyes tracking my movement.

Three days had passed since my video went viral. Three days of radio silence from Ellis, calculated PR moves from the Spencer machine, and a forced leave of absence that felt more like exile. But I wasn't here to retreat.

The design department occupied the thirty-second floor, a sprawling open space where creativity was supposed to flourish under floor-to-ceiling windows. Instead, it felt like walking into a courtroom where the verdict had already been decided.

Conversations stopped as I passed. Rebecca Torres, hunched over her drafting table, wouldn't meet my eyes. Michael Chen, another former mentee I'd helped secure an internship, suddenly found his computer screen fascinating. The silence stretched like a wire about to snap.

"Well, well." Ellis's voice cut through the quiet like a blade. "Look who decided to show up."

He stood near the conference room, impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than my monthly salary. Veronica flanked him, playing the part of the wounded sister-in-law in a cream-colored dress that screamed innocence. Her hand rested protectively over her stomach—a gesture I filed away for later consideration.

"I work here," I said simply, setting my bag down at my desk. "Or did you forget that part when you orchestrated my forced leave?"

Ellis stepped closer, his voice carrying just enough volume for the entire department to hear. "Actually, Lara, we need to discuss some serious concerns that have come to light. Corporate espionage is a federal crime."

The accusation hung in the air like smoke. Around us, keyboards stopped clicking. Even the air conditioning seemed to pause.

"Espionage?" I kept my voice level, professional. "That's an interesting word choice."

"Breaking into private property, stealing confidential documents, recording private conversations without consent." Ellis ticked off each point on his fingers like a prosecutor building a case. "The legal department is very concerned about your recent behavior."

Veronica stepped forward, her eyes glistening with what looked like genuine tears. "Lara, I know you're hurting, but stalking me isn't the answer. The things you've been saying online, the way you've been following me—"

"Following you?" I almost laughed. "To your lover's apartment? Where you've been conducting your affair for the past eight months?"

"See?" Ellis's voice rose, playing to our audience. "This is exactly the kind of paranoid delusion we're dealing with. Lara, you need help."

The department was watching like spectators at a gladiator match. I could feel their discomfort, their fear. In corporate America, being associated with scandal was career suicide.

"Rebecca." I turned to my former mentee, hoping to find one ally in this orchestrated performance. "You've seen the evidence. You know what really happened."

Rebecca's face crumpled. She stood slowly, her hands shaking as she faced me. "Lara, I... I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't support this anymore."

The betrayal hit harder than Ellis's accusations. "Rebecca, I helped you get this job. When you couldn't afford design school, I—"

"I know what you did for me." Tears streamed down her face now. "But I have student loans. Sixty thousand dollars in student loans that could be called in immediately if certain people decide I'm not... reliable."

Ellis's smile was razor-thin. "Financial responsibility is important in this industry. We can't have employees who make poor decisions about their associations."

The threat was clear. Stand with me, lose everything.

Michael Chen cleared his throat. "I think we all need to focus on our work. Personal drama doesn't belong in the workplace."

Another former mentee, another betrayal. I'd helped him navigate the visa process when he was struggling as an international student. Now he couldn't even look at me.

My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: "Your brother's dialysis appointment is at 3 PM today at Mount Sinai. Shame if their charitable funding got reconsidered. - E"

The blood drained from my face. Marcus. They were threatening Marcus.

Ellis must have seen my expression change because his smile widened. "Family is so important, isn't it, Lara? We wouldn't want anything to happen to the people we care about because of... poor choices."

Veronica placed a gentle hand on Ellis's arm, the perfect picture of a concerned family member. "Maybe we should call security. I don't feel safe with her here."

The trap was perfect. Publicly humiliate me, turn my allies against me, and threaten the one person I couldn't bear to lose. They thought they'd cornered me.

I picked up my bag, my movements deliberate and controlled. "This isn't over."

"Actually," Ellis called after me, "it is. Security will escort you out. And Lara? Don't come back."

As I walked toward the elevator, I felt the weight of thirty pairs of eyes on my back. They thought they'd won.

They had no idea that Sutton Spencer was flying back from London tonight.

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