Shattered Masks

I was always the type to hold a grudge.

Bright and early the next day, I cooked up some excuse to get Seth over to my office.

The proposal I slammed down in front of him was flawless, but I tore into him anyway, nitpicking in front of the colleague he had brought along.

When he slunk out with a strained smile, I could see the anger simmering in his eyes.

I pulled out my phone and started the GPS tracker.

The night before, while Ruby was out on the balcony deep in conversation with Seth, I had slipped a tracker into her purse, tucked inside her favorite tube of lipstick.

As expected, her location started to move, first away from the office, then stopping at the Horton Hotel downtown.

What irony–that was where we had our wedding.

That wedding day snapshot remained my wallpaper all this time.

Seven years ago, she was in white, clinging to my arm, tears of joy streaming down her face.

Who would have guessed that seven years later, she would be at that same hotel for a secret rendezvous with another man?

Of course, I was not in any hurry.

I needed solid proof of their little affair, and a simple scandalous snapshot would not be enough to ruin them completely.

In that high-society whirl, where scandal was as common as breathing, bedding someone else's spouse could bizarrely earn someone a standing ovation.

However, Ruby, it seemed, had a lapse in memory. She had forgotten that the hotel she had chosen for her wedding was once mine.

I rang up the hotel manager.

"Upgrade Ruby's room," I instructed, "to the presidential suite."

No big deal, except that the suite had a little something extra, a high-definition camera I had had installed.

The manager called back promptly.

"Mr. Scott, we've upgraded her as requested, citing her past wedding here as a loyal customer," he reported.

"Ms. Lynch was thrilled, and the word 'wedding' didn't even make her flinch."

It seemed I had overestimated Ruby. She clearly felt not an ounce of guilt about cheating.

Well, that was fine. At least I was completely free of any emotional burden.

Timing was everything. I had my secretary, incidentally, Ruby's distant cousin, reschedule my day to Horton Hotel.

As I left, my gaze flicked past him, busy on the phone. Hook, line, and sinker.

I knew he had been pocketing Seth's bribes for a while, playing the family card. I had let it slide, thinking it was just Seth's way of networking.

It turned out that he was their inside man.

'An exposed spy is just another tool,' I mused.

I strolled to the hotel, unhurried. Just before the entrance, Ruby and Seth made a brief, furtive appearance around the corner.

Perfect timing.

I walked in, feigning ignorance, and settled into a chair in the lobby's lounge area.

A couple of minutes had passed when Ruby, cool as a cucumber, strolled up to the hotel's grand entrance.

Her eyes widened in mock surprise the moment she spotted me, and she hurried over with that overly sweet voice of hers. "Whoa, hubby, what brings you here?

"That Janice–she's got no conscience, telling me to come snap some pictures for her and then she's a no-show. Left me high and dry."

While she complained, Ruby grabbed my hand and swung it, pouting with a look of pure hurt on her face.

However, the tiny beads of sweat on her forehead gave away her anxiety.

The odd smell coming off her was enough to make my stomach flip.

I shook off her grip and faced her squarely.