Found His Mistress’s Signature on His Back

Before going to sleep, I ran my hand down Logan’s smooth back. Suddenly, something felt off. "Babe, did you pop that pimple on your back yourself?" His body stiffened for a fraction of a second. Then, he let out a casual laugh. "Oh, I probably just scratched it in the shower. It's nothing." I stared at the brown heart drawn in iodine around the wound, complete with a neat signature next to it: *Bianca*. "Okay," I murmured, keeping my voice flat, and didn’t say another word. Soon, his breathing turned heavy. I quietly slipped out of bed and headed down to the garage. Logan was always a very meticulous man. That pimple had been on his back for days. He was so terrified of infection that he wouldn't even let me touch it. I had specifically bought a special ointment to put on him, but now, the pimple was suddenly gone. The iodine was painted perfectly in the shape of a heart. Even if Logan had eyes on the back of his head, he couldn't have drawn that himself. The more I thought about it, the wider awake I became. Down in the dark garage, the blue light of the dashcam in Logan’s car flickered silently. My hands were freezing, and I almost didn't have the strength to open the car door. I went through the dashcam footage. The most recent recording was from months ago. With Logan’s paranoid and cautious personality, he wouldn't even drive the car if the dashcam was broken for a single day. My gut told me this was no accident. Returning to the bedroom, I couldn't help but reach for his phone on the nightstand. The passcode was still my birthday. The lock screen was still the scenic photo we took during our trip to Switzerland years ago. But I felt like everything had changed. I took a deep breath and opened his Snapchat. The recent chats were all with mutual friends and colleagues. Not a single suspicious person. I frowned. Was I really overthinking this? Just then, a notification popped up. A girl named *Bianca 3.18* had just liked his latest Snap Story. I tapped on her chat profile. There was not a single message between them. "3.18" must be a nickname Logan added. If I guessed correctly, it was her birthday. I stared at the name for a long time. Suddenly, I noticed a gray bell icon with a slash through it next to her name. It was the mute icon... Why would you mute someone you've supposedly never exchanged a single word with? Logan suddenly rolled over and half-opened his eyes. "Chloe, what's wrong?" I didn't say anything. I just gently placed his phone back on the nightstand. But he woke up instantly. "Are you checking my phone?" He let out a huge yawn and pulled me into his arms. "So my wife actually checks my phone. I thought you didn't care about me at all." "Check it tomorrow morning, okay? I’m completely innocent. You can dig through whatever you want." I gently wriggled out of his embrace. "No, I just grabbed the wrong phone by mistake." The next morning, Logan generously handed his phone to me. He had a huge smirk on his face. "You know the passcode. Take your time." Then he turned around and went into the kitchen to warm up some milk and toast. His calmness carried a hidden smugness—the confidence of a man who believed everything was under his absolute control. I didn't touch his phone. Instead, I went back to the bedroom and grabbed an iodine-tipped cotton swab. "Logan, let me put some more iodine on your back. We don't want it getting infected." He paused, his eyes darting away. "No need to bother. It's probably already healed." He walked out of the kitchen with breakfast, pushing a plate of sunny-side-up eggs in front of me, smoothly changing the subject. "Eat up. It's going to get cold." I took two bites and immediately lost my appetite. "Logan, leave the car keys with me today. I need to go to the hospital for a check-up." "Sure, just drive safely." The second Logan stepped out of the door, I drove the car straight to the auto repair shop. I had them install a brand-new dashcam of the exact same model. Then, I called my sister. "Maya, I need you to help me look into Logan..." From the very beginning, Maya had disliked Logan. She thought he was just a social climber who married up, and we had fought bitterly over him back then. Hearing my request now, she couldn't help but sigh. "Chloe, what did he do?" "I think he's cheating." Maya let out a cold laugh. "He dares? Don't worry, Chloe. I'll find someone to dig up everything on him." Part of me hoped she would find nothing. But my gut told me this was just the tip of the iceberg.

After getting the new dashcam installed, I drove to the office. Since my eye surgery six months ago, this was the first time I had stepped foot in the company. I noticed a new boutique café had opened downstairs. My husband, who never drank coffee and only drank tea, had somehow become a regular there. Logan was in a meeting, but there were two coffee cups sitting on his desk. The paper cups had "The Frosted Cup" printed on them. The name felt strangely familiar. Instead of waiting for Logan to finish his meeting, I went downstairs and walked into the café. The owner was wearing a white cotton dress. When she bowed her head, her waist-length hair fell forward, covering half of her face. I glanced at the barista certification hanging on the wall. The name read: *Bianca Yuan*. So she was Bianca? My heart skipped a beat. I ordered a black coffee, found a corner seat, and quietly opened Twitter. Sure enough, due to the location tagging, Twitter’s algorithm quickly pushed the café owner’s profile to my feed. There was a video with tens of thousands of likes. Bianca was showing off half a wall filled with limited-edition designer toy figures. "Super cute, right? My husband bought all of these for me! There’s still half a wall left. Keep working hard, babe!" As fate would have it, those figures were the exact products our company manufactured. Several of them were extremely rare, out-of-print editions that even I couldn't get my hands on. I clicked on her profile and saw a video she had posted just this morning of her brewing a pot of herbal tea. "With this hot and humid weather, my husband has been getting breakouts on his back. I'm brewing some herbal tea to clear out the toxins for him." My fingers turned white from gripping my phone too tightly. My chest felt incredibly tight. The thought of her delicate hands caressing my husband's back made me feel physically sick. The moment Logan’s meeting ended, he called me. "Sarah said you came to the office. Why didn't you wait for me?" I clenched my fist and said, "I am waiting. I'm at the café downstairs. Come join me when you're done." His voice sounded frantic. "Why are you down there? Come up to the office. I'll take you out for lunch." "We have to go downstairs anyway. Let's just meet at the café." He let out a nervous cough. "Uh, Sarah just dropped a sudden meeting on me. Why don't you wait in my office?" "No rush. See you downstairs." Logan dragged his feet for thirty minutes before finally showing up, looking incredibly reluctant. The moment Bianca saw him, her face lit up with pure joy. But Logan pretended not to see her. He kept his head down and walked straight toward me. "Let's go. I'm starving." I smiled, turned toward the counter, and called out, "Excuse me, do you have any iced herbal tea? My husband doesn't drink coffee. Any herbal drink will do." Bianca froze. Within seconds, her eyes welled up with tears. She stammered, "No... we don't have that." Logan ignored the sheer heartbreak in her eyes and pushed me toward the door. "It's a coffee shop. Why are you asking for herbal tea? You're just making things difficult for her." During lunch, Logan was completely distracted. He kept checking his phone every few seconds, his brow furrowed deeply. "Babe, what are you so busy with?" I casually dropped a piece of pickled jalapeño into his bowl. He was so glued to his screen that he shoved it into his mouth without looking. Immediately, he started coughing violently, his face turning bright red. He had to chug several glasses of water before he could breathe again. "Logan, don't be greedy," I said smoothly, wiping my mouth. "Trying to work while you eat... you might end up biting off more than you can chew." Logan snapped his head up to glare at me, but I ignored him and unlocked my phone to text our HR director. [Hi Chloe, I wanted to discuss the Thanksgiving gift baskets. We picked out a few high-end vendors, but Logan said not to bother and told us to just order gift cards from the café downstairs.] [But we are a major startup now. Don't you think we should order from a recognizable brand? The employees would appreciate it much more.] I let out a cold laugh. This man was actually using my company's money to pamper his mistress. What did all our years of building this company together mean to him? [Send me the list of premium vendors. Our employees deserve the absolute best!]

Neither of us touched much of our food. I tossed the car keys to Logan and took a cab home by myself. Watching him hurry off to comfort Bianca, I felt completely numb. Maya had connections everywhere. It didn't take long for her to send me a massive file. The moment I answered her call, she was screaming with rage. "Logan is an absolute piece of garbage!" "You built Dreamscape Media from the ground up with your own sweat and tears! Just because you took a step back due to your illness, he actually thinks he runs the place? He needs to look in the mirror! How dare he cheat on you!" "Maya... did he really..." My voice trailed off. I couldn't bring myself to say the words. "He's incredibly cautious. I haven't found the smoking gun yet, but he will slip up eventually." I let out a long sigh. Deep down, I realized I was still holding onto a sliver of hope. "There's a high-end 'Best of Panama' coffee bean auction tonight. I saw Bianca’s name on the guest list. With her tiny shop's revenue, there's no way she can afford to be there. Logan must be going with her." "I'll send you the address and the details. If you need me to back you up, just say the word." The auction hall was packed. The event was even being livestreamed to millions of viewers online. Standing in a quiet corner, I instantly spotted Bianca in the VIP section. Logan was sitting right next to her. They were whispering and giggling together. Clearly, their lunchtime drama was already forgotten. Bianca’s smile was sweet, and she even grabbed Logan’s hand in excitement at one point. I pulled out my phone and called my private banker. "Freeze my husband's secondary card. Right now." The highlight of the evening was the bidding for this year’s exclusive Panama Nido7 coffee beans. The starting bid was a staggering fifteen thousand dollars per kilogram, with the total package valued at over three hundred thousand dollars. The auctioneer was on stage passionately describing the flavor profile. I just shook my head. At that price, they weren't drinking coffee; they were drinking liquidated cash. The bidding started, and Bianca immediately raised her paddle. "One hundred and sixty thousand!" "One hundred and seventy thousand," a calm voice countered from the back. It turned out she wasn't the only one wanting to flaunt their wealth. After a few rounds, Bianca pouted. She clung to Logan’s arm and whined, "Babe, he's bullying me." Logan looked at her with pure indulgence. "If you behave tonight, I'll go up to two hundred thousand." Blushing, she kissed him on the cheek and raised her paddle. "Two hundred thousand!" The other bidders immediately backed down. "Bianca is so lucky! Her husband spoils her to death!" "He didn't even blink at spending three hundred grand!" Congratulations echoed through the room. My chest felt so tight I could barely breathe. The media rushed forward to interview Bianca. She tucked her long hair behind her ear and spoke with practiced elegance. "Nido7 is more than just coffee. If you've ever been to Panama and seen the mist-covered estates, the elegant white blossoms, and the dew-kissed fruit, you'd understand what a dream it is." "I am incredibly grateful to the most important person in my life. He has always supported my dreams." "I'd also like to take this opportunity to announce that next year, The Frosted Cup will expand to thirty locations nationwide. We will become leaders in this industry." The crowd erupted into thunderous applause. She looked at Logan, her eyes brimming with love and adoration. Logan smiled back warmly. "As long as you're happy, baby." As the applause died down, I slowly stood up and began to clap. My slow, mocking applause instantly drew annoyed looks from the crowd. Logan frowned and turned around. The moment his eyes met mine, he visibly paled.

Everyone’s eyes fell on me. The heavy sarcasm in my applause was impossible to miss. Sensing a juicy scandal, a reporter quickly shouted: "Ma'am, are you unhappy with the results of the auction?" I smiled and looked directly at Logan. He instantly let go of Bianca’s hand and crossed his arms defensively. Bianca quickly looked down, grabbing her purse as if trying to flee. "I was just wondering," I said loudly, "what happens if Bianca can't actually pay for those beans?" Both of them snapped their heads up, glaring at me with pure venom. The host, trying to prevent a scene, quickly intervened. "Ma'am, if you have questions about the bidding process, please ask privately. Do not disrupt the event." But my question had already sparked whispers in the crowd. "Why bid if you can't pay? That's so embarrassing." "Exactly. Even though The Frosted Cup is a nobody shop, she clearly has a sugar daddy. If she can't pay, her husband definitely will." "She's just a hater trying to make a scene. How pathetic." I cleared my throat and said calmly, "Bianca, your café has been open for six months. Your monthly revenue is barely three thousand dollars, but your rent is twenty-five hundred. Considering other operating costs, you've been losing money every single month, haven't you?" Having her secrets exposed in public made Bianca’s chest heave with anger. "What does that have to do with you?" I nodded. "Normally, how much money you lose is none of my business. But I am genuinely curious—with that kind of business model, how do you expect to pay for a three-hundred-thousand-dollar order of coffee beans?" Bianca’s face flushed red. She tugged at Logan’s sleeve, tears of humiliation pooling in her eyes. But Logan stood there like a statue, completely frozen. I pressed on relentlessly. "What's the point of pulling my husband's sleeve? His annual salary at my company is only one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Were you planning to make him spend two years of his salary just to buy you some coffee beans?" The crowd went wild. "And here I thought it was some high-end romance. Turns out it's just a cheap sugar daddy funding his side chick!" "That home-wrecker is so shameless! Flaunting her affair on a live broadcast!" "I knew she didn't look like real money. No wonder she kept bidding so aggressively." Bianca stood there helplessly, looking like a fragile white flower trapped in a storm. With tear-filled eyes, she looked at Logan. "Just go... you can't beat her. I can't bear to watch everyone attack you because of me. I really can't." Logan’s eyelashes fluttered violently. His body tensed, and finally, losing all control over his emotions, he pulled her tightly into his arms. He gently wiped her tears. "You are not a home-wrecker. I said you aren't, so you aren't." A sharp pain shot through my chest. For her, he was willing to throw away every last shred of his dignity. "Logan," I called out softly. "Don't you think you should figure out how you're going to pay first?" An auction staff member ran out, looking panicked. "Miss Yuan, the payment card you provided earlier... it's been declined." Logan glared at me with an intensity that screamed pure hatred. The girl in his arms whimpered, "Forget it, Logan. We can't beat her. I don't want the deposit back." But his pride was utterly shattered, driving him to madness. "Don't worry, Bianca. I will secure the funds before the deadline. These beans are yours."

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