After a month of overwork, I decided to take a break and escape to our family’s resort, Serenity Peak. The moment I stepped into the lobby, my eyes locked onto the giant screen looping a promotional video. There was my husband, Ben, kissing a woman with a killer body in a steamy private pool. The tagline read: 【Love her? Bring her for a private spa experience.】 My blood ran cold. I went straight to the front desk, where an innocent-looking girl greeted me. “Hi, when was this video filmed? Are they professional models?” She beamed, envious. “We shot it just days ago! That’s one of our employees and her boyfriend. Aren’t they perfect?” I kept my tone light. “Could you ask her to come? I’d love to compliment her—she’s so photogenic.” Unsuspecting, she made the call. “Isabelle! A guest wants to see you—she’s a fan!” Soon, a woman in a supervisor’s uniform appeared. “How can I help you?” 1 Her smile was professional and sweet, but the instant she saw my face, it froze on her lips and morphed into a flash of panic. She quickly looked down, her fingers clattering aimlessly on the keyboard. “How… how can I help you?” A slow smile spread across my face. “I’d like to book your best private suite.” The woman, Isabelle, was tall and curvy, radiating a wild, untamed allure. I suddenly remembered how Ben used to pinch my cheeks and tell me I was too thin, that there was nothing to hold onto. I’d thought he was being caring. Now I realized he just preferred more… substance. She held out a key card. I didn’t take it. Instead, I smiled. “Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” Another receptionist nearby recognized me and chimed in cheerfully. “Grace! It’s been too long. This is our new front desk supervisor, Isabelle. She used to be a fitness instructor. Ben actually recommended her for the job.” She then turned to Isabelle. “Isabelle, this is Ben’s wife. You should call her Grace.” Isabelle’s eyes dropped even lower, her voice barely a whisper. “Hello, G-Grace.” I almost laughed out loud. The sultry vixen from the video, the one who looked like she wanted to permanently attach herself to my husband’s body, was suddenly meek as a mouse? Pathetic. I finally took the key card she’d been holding out and glanced at the room number, my brow furrowing. “This isn’t your best suite, is it?” The color drained from her face. She bit her lip, struggling for words, before finally forcing out an explanation. “I’m sorry, Mr. Vance… he prefers the south-facing rooms. For the sunlight. I just… did it out of habit.” A cold, humorless laugh echoed in my mind. Was she trying to show me that she knew my husband’s preferences better than I did? How pathetically low-class. I was one of the original investors in this resort. I remembered Ben holding my hand, telling me gently that he didn’t like me coming to places like this alone, that he would always bring me himself if I needed to unwind. Now I knew why. He just didn't want me to crash his party. My gaze swept over Isabelle’s flustered face, then moved down, stopping at her slender wrist. “That’s a unique watch.” Isabelle forced a dry laugh. “Oh, this? It’s just something I wear for fun.” I smiled without a word. The watch was a limited-edition Vacheron Constantin, a gift from my father to Ben when they first met. There were only three in the world. Because of its sentimental value, Ben kept it locked in the safe in his study. And here it was, on the wrist of a stranger. Just then, a notification from Ben popped up on my phone. “Grace, you’re at the resort?” I raised an eyebrow. As I looked up, I saw Isabelle hastily shoving her own phone back into her pocket. I scoffed internally and typed out a reply. “Yes, just came to relax. Should I save a room for you?” My tone must have sounded normal, because I could practically feel his relief through the screen. A voice message came back instantly. “No need, honey. You just have a good time. Love you.” I stared at the transcribed words, "Love you," and my stomach churned. When I looked back at Isabelle, she had composed herself and was attempting to make small talk, as if nothing had happened. What an idiot. I ignored her, turned, and walked out of the lobby, dialing my father's assistant. My dad’s company, at my urging, had just signed a massive contract with Ben's firm two days ago. “Mr. Davis, please halt the execution of that contract. And find me the best divorce attorney you can.” “Yes, a divorce. Ben… he’s filthy.” 2 The first thing I did when I got home was march straight to the study. As expected, the safe was missing several items. This room was where we kept valuable antiques and art my father had gifted us, along with important documents. After marrying Ben, I’d been so wrapped up in our life together that I hadn’t paid much attention to material things. Ben managed everything here. At first glance, nothing seemed amiss. But on closer inspection, I realized everything that held true personal meaning to me was gone. My face grim, I pulled up the feed from the hidden security camera. And I saw it. In the very place I considered my private sanctuary, a disgusting drama had been unfolding. May 7th: Their first time in my study. Isabelle was sitting on Ben’s lap at his desk, laughing and flirting. August 29th: He canceled our anniversary trip, a trip we’d planned for months, only to spend the entire night video-chatting with her right here, whispering obscenities. October 5th: I was staying at my parents’ house. He brought her home. They’d made love on top of my priceless art collection. A violent wave of nausea hit me, and I ran to the bathroom, vomiting until I was dizzy. The recording kept playing. The next scene showed Ben opening the safe. He took out the Vacheron Constantin watch, then his eyes landed on a blue folder. My heart sank. A terrible premonition seized me. That was the deed to a plot of land my grandfather left me. It was my wedding gift from him, given on his deathbed. On the screen, I watched Ben hand it directly to Isabelle. I stumbled back to the safe and frantically sorted through the remaining papers. There was a duplicate of the deed, but this one lacked the official seal. A forgery. My complete and utter trust in him meant I’d never once thought to check. I collapsed to the floor, my body cold as I listened to Ben’s tender promise on the recording. “Don’t worry. Even if I can’t make it official right now, I’ll never let you suffer.” Isabelle put on a show of refusing. “Ben, this is too much, I can’t accept—” Then, a figure I never expected appeared in the doorway. “Oh, just take it, Isabelle! I’m the one who sent my cousin away on that stupid hike, just so Ben would have a chance to give you this surprise!” my own cousin, Zoe, chirped. “I played such a big part in this. You’d better save me a seat at the head table at your wedding!” Seeing Zoe there, my own blood, I felt the world tilt on its axis. I remembered that day clearly. Zoe had begged me, tears in her eyes, to go with her to a temple on the west side of town. I’d spent half a day climbing a mountain with her, and my legs had ached for a week. I trembled with rage. It wasn’t just my husband. My own family had conspired to betray me. In the video, Ben pulled Isabelle into his arms, his eyes full of adoration. “What’s mine is yours. Why be so formal with me?” Giving away the assets my grandfather left for me to his little mistress, and making it sound so noble. The irony was so immense it threatened to swallow me whole. In that moment, I wanted to find them and tear their faces off. Just then, a friend request popped up on my phone. The person sent an image, then quickly retracted it. But I’d already seen it. It was a photo of Isabelle, grinning, holding up the blue folder and flashing a peace sign. The caption read: “New home, secured!” The background was a landmark right next to that plot of land. Every last shred of my composure shattered. I thought of my grandfather on his deathbed, his hand trembling as he pressed that folder into mine. I had been sobbing, telling him I didn't want anything, I only wanted him. But Ben had taken the folder for me, holding me tight as he made a solemn promise. “Don’t worry, Grandpa. I’ll take care of Grace. I’ll never let her suffer.” Grandpa had given one last, content smile, and then he was gone. I had cried until I passed out in the cold hospital hallway. It was Ben who held me, comforting me over and over. “It’s okay, Grace. I’m here. I’ll always be here.” After he died, I was lost in grief, unable to touch anything that reminded me of him. Ben handled everything—the funeral, my grandfather's belongings. My father had seen it all and told me Ben was a good man, someone I could truly depend on. Who could have known that this man our entire family trusted had only ever been after our money? The warning signs were there. The strange perfume on his clothes, the trendy slang he’d suddenly started using, the increasingly frequent "late nights at the office." I had made him my only emotional support, so I chose to lie to myself. After retracting the photo, Isabelle sent another message. “Oops, wrong person.” It was followed by a few discount coupons for the resort. I stared at the pathetic, malicious performance. I didn’t reply. Instead, I clicked on her social media profile. She must have forgotten to block me. Her latest post was the exact photo she had just retracted. “Time for a new life to begin! Everyone’s invited to my housewarming party!” The post was tagged with a location. It was my plot of land. The most jarring part was the comment section. Ben had liked the post and left a comment. “Congratulations on your new chapter, baby.” I even saw a comment from my cousin Zoe. “Congrats, Isabelle! A true independent woman of the new era. So proud of you!” They all knew whose land that was, yet they could congratulate the thief on her “housewarming” with clear consciences. My face was a cold mask as I stared at the screen. I made a call, informing the land registry office that there was a dispute regarding the deed and requested an immediate freeze on the transfer of ownership. Let's see who dares to touch my property without my signature. 3 The next day, I drove to the property. It had been developed into a high-end villa community. Isabelle’s party was being held in one of the completed model homes. I contacted the property manager, an old subordinate of my father's, and had him transfer the highest-level access for the villa’s smart lock system to my name. Then I got back in my car and waited for the show to begin. Soon, the lawn outside the villa was decorated with flowers and balloons. A champagne tower sparkled in the sunlight. Guests began to arrive, most of them young faces I didn't recognize. Until I saw my cousin, Zoe. She was holding a glass of champagne, her arm linked with Isabelle’s, her eyes full of fawning admiration. “Isabelle, you’re amazing! Owning a house in a place like this at your age.” She then turned to Ben. “You’d better treat our girl right, you hear me? Or her family won’t stand for it!” Isabelle lowered her head, blushing, and Ben pulled her into his embrace, promising Zoe with a solemn face that he would cherish Isabelle for the rest of his life. The lawn erupted in applause and whistles. A middle-aged woman grabbed Isabelle’s hand, her wrinkled face beaming with pride as she announced to everyone, “Our Isabelle has always been such a good girl! Look how successful she is now, with such a wonderful boyfriend!” Isabelle, her cheeks red, smiled sweetly. “It’s all because Ben is so good to me.” Others chimed in. “The Miller family has really produced a phoenix!” Another man raised his glass. “And Ben is a real man’s man! Giving her a gift this big before they’re even married. That takes guts!” A relative sighed wistfully. “God, if only my daughter could find a man like Ben. I think about my son-in-law and I could just scream!” The crowd laughed. “Keep dreaming! Do you see the kind of woman Isabelle is?” The party was in full swing. Toasts were made, compliments flew. Ben and Isabelle were at the center of it all, basking in the adoration. And I watched the whole ridiculous spectacle without a flicker of emotion. Just then, Ben pulled out a ring. In front of everyone, he dropped to one knee, his eyes locked on Isabelle with profound love. “Isabelle, in front of all our friends and family, will you marry me?” The enormous diamond glittered, painfully bright in the sun. “Say yes! Say yes!” the crowd chanted. Isabelle’s eyes filled with tears as she choked out, “I will.” They embraced tightly, surrounded by a chorus of blessings and wishes for their happiness. Until a discordant voice cut through the noise. “Mr. Vance, if I recall correctly… aren’t you already married?”
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