He Fell for Her, I Rose Alone

I had always been one to settle scores.

The next morning, I summoned Diana to my company under a flimsy pretext. The project proposal I tossed in her face was flawless, but I tore into it anyway, berating her in front of her subordinates.

Her forced smile couldn't hide the hatred burning in her eyes as she left, head bowed.

Back at my desk, I opened the tracking app on my phone. Last night, while Nick was distracted on the balcony, chatting with Diana, I slipped a GPS tracker into his bag, hidden inside the lighter he always carried.

As expected, he began to move, leaving his office and heading toward the Horton Hotel in the city center. The irony wasn't lost on me. It was where we'd held our wedding seven years ago.

My phone's wallpaper was still a photo from that day. Nick was in his tuxedo, holding my hand, tears of joy in his eyes. Who could have imagined that, seven years later, he'd be meeting another woman in the same place?

I didn't rush to follow, though. Evidence of their affair was crucial, but a mere photo of them in bed wouldn't be enough to ruin them.

In our social circle, infidelity was often just gossip fodder, something to flaunt rather than hide. But Nick had forgotten one critical detail: the Horton Hotel was my property.

I called the hotel manager and instructed her to upgrade Nick's room to a presidential suite. The suite, of course, was fitted with high-definition cameras I'd installed for just such an occasion.

The manager called back shortly after. "Ma'am, we informed Mr. Doyle of the upgrade, citing his wedding as the reason. He was pleased and didn't react much to the mention of the wedding."

I had overestimated his morals. He didn't feel guilty about his cheating at all. Well, that made things easier. I'd hold back no punches.

When it was about time, I instructed my secretary to schedule my next meeting at the Horton Hotel. As I left, I caught her frantically dialing someone.

The bait had been taken. My secretary was Nick's distant cousin. She had been accepting bribes from Diana for months. I'd known but let it slide, thinking Diana was just currying favor for business.

Now it was clear this secretary had been their spy, feeding them my every move. It was fine. A spy exposed was a tool to be wielded.

I took my time driving to the hotel. Just before entering, I spotted Nick and Diana peeking around a corner, only to duck back when they saw me.

Perfect timing! Pretending I hadn't noticed, I strolled into the lobby and settled into the lounge area.

Minutes later, Nick emerged alone, his expression calm as he headed for the exit. When he saw me, he put on a show of surprise, jogging over with a sheepish grin.

"Honey, what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice low and warm. "Randy asked me to meet him here to cheer him up, but he bailed. What a waste of a trip!"

He grabbed my hand, his face a mask of frustration, but the sweat beading on his forehead and the strange scent clinging to him betrayed his nerves.

My stomach churned. I pulled my hand free and looked him in the eye.