Chapter 4

Kelsey POV

I sat on the living room carpet, holding Griffin's old discarded iPad.

He hadn't used this device in ages, but he seemed to have overlooked one fatal detail.

His Apple ID was still logged in, and all photos synced automatically.

The screen suddenly lit up.

A photo taken ten minutes ago appeared.

The background was the CEO lounge at Griffin's company headquarters.

The subject was Joyce.

She was taking a mirror selfie, wearing only an oversized white men's dress shirt.

I knew that shirt all too well-I'd specially flown to Italy last month to have an old tailor custom-make it, with Griffin's initials embroidered on the collar.

The shirttail barely covered her thighs, making her legs look long and pale.

Most jarring was the dark red hickey on her neck.

The photo came with text-a screenshot of a note.

"Boss said I look a hundred times better in his shirt than Kelsey does. He almost tore all the buttons off just now, so naughty."

My finger scrolled across the screen.

Next image.

A five-second Live Photo.

The lens was aimed under that expensive walnut office desk.

A long leg in black stockings was sliding up a man's dress-pants-clad calf.

The man's large hand grabbed that ankle-not pushing it away, but rather caressing it suggestively.

The background audio was Griffin's low voice.

"Stop it, I'm reviewing merger documents."

Joyce giggled and asked, "Are the documents prettier, or am I?"

Griffin chuckled quietly, and the image cut off.

I stared, my face ashen.

My stomach felt like it had swallowed lead. My heart felt hooked, tearing out flesh and blood with each beat.

This was the man I'd loved for seven years.

This was the husband who kissed me every morning before leaving, saying he was "working to support the family."

In his office, he reviewed hundred-million-dollar merger contracts while enjoying a young woman's teasing.

Simultaneously.

The sound of the fingerprint lock came from the entrance.

Griffin was home.

He walked in somewhat hurriedly, still looking down at his phone.

Seeing me sitting on the carpet with that old iPad, his eyes clearly flashed with panic.

But that panic vanished instantly. After all, he was a seasoned businessman.

"Why are you using that old thing?" Griffin approached, reaching out with perfect naturalness. "The screen resolution is terrible-it'll hurt your eyes. I ordered you the latest Pro. It'll arrive tomorrow."

He tried to take the iPad.

My wrist turned slightly, avoiding his hand.

The screen faced him.

The photo was still open.

That provocative selfie of Joyce wearing his shirt was laid bare before him.

The air froze for exactly three seconds.

Griffin's expression didn't change in the slightest. Even his heartbeat seemed perfectly controlled.

He even frowned, displaying just the right amount of disgust and anger.

"Who sent this? How did it sync here?"

He pulled out his own phone and called his secretary right in front of me, putting it on speaker.

"Check my iCloud account immediately. I think it's been hacked. Someone's maliciously uploading pornographic images."

"Also, that intern Joyce who resigned recently-did she steal my lounge key? I'm missing a custom shirt."

"Not only did she steal clothes, she dares send photos like this to disgust people. Have legal send her a cease and desist immediately. People like this must face consequences."

He hung up.

He crouched down, holding my cold hand, his eyes so sincere he almost looked hurt.

"Kelsey, I'm sorry. Security dropped the ball. These young people will do anything to get ahead. Shameless. But I never thought she'd be this bold."

"Trust me. I can barely even remember her face. That shirt? I had someone toss it the second I saw her in it. Too dirty."

Perfect explanation.

If I were the naive fool I used to be, I probably would have believed him.

He was Griffin, a billionaire. How could he possibly be interested in some ordinary intern?

But I'd heard the recording.

I'd heard him calling her "little vixen" in the car, praising how "tight" she was.

Watching him play the upright gentleman now just made me sick.

"I see." I closed the screen and casually tossed the iPad into the nearby trash. "Then let's throw it away. It really is dirty."

Griffin visibly relaxed.

He thought the matter was settled.

He lifted me from the floor and walked toward the dining room. "To make amends, I personally cooked your favorite lobster risotto tonight. Stop looking at this garbage-it ruins your mood."

I leaned against him, listening to his strong heartbeat.

One beat, two beats.

Each one the rhythm of lies.

During dinner, Griffin carefully extracted the lobster meat and fed it to me.

I took a bite, then suddenly spoke. "Griffin, I want to sell that Hampton beach house."

Griffin's hands paused mid-extraction. "Why the sudden decision to sell?"

"There might be something unclean there." I sipped white wine, speaking casually. "Last time I stayed there, I kept having nightmares. Plus a real estate agent friend said the market's at peak prices right now."

That villa was Griffin's engagement gift to me. Worth forty million.

"Alright." Griffin didn't hesitate. He set the sliced meat on my plate. "It's in your name. Your call. Keep the money as your nest egg. If it's not enough, I'll send more."

He was so confident.

Confident that I loved him desperately and would never leave him.

So he didn't care about those tens of millions of dollars at all.

"Thank you, honey." I smiled.

But the smile didn't reach my eyes.

That very night, I contacted that real estate agent friend.

Only one requirement: cash deal, urgent sale, complete the paperwork within three days.

All received funds to be transferred to an anonymous trust account in the Cayman Islands.

That was my "escape pod."

And my offering to Erasmus.

Late at night, Griffin's breathing grew steady and slow.

I picked up his phone.

The password was my birthday. It never changed.

Unlocked. Opened WhatsApp.

His chat with Joyce had been wiped clean.

But in Messenger drafts, I found an unsent message.

"Sorry you had to go through this, babe. Tomorrow's just for show. Go to HR first thing and process the transfer. You'll be operations director at the branch. Be good. I'll take you to Tahiti in a few days. Just the two of us."

I stared at those words for a long time.

Then screenshot, sent to my secret email.

Deleted the record, put the phone back.

I lay back in bed, my back to Griffin.

Tears silently streamed down, soaking the silk pillowcase.

This would be the last time I cried for this man.

Starting tomorrow, even if it meant going to hell, I'd drag him down with me.