Divorce to Destiny: Reclaiming My CEO Husband novel Chapter 355

355 The Evidence Arrives 

(Judy) 

The courier should’ve delivered what I need by now. I glance at my watch. 

It’s been a long game, planting seeds of doubt in Jayden’s mind, and it’s about to pay off. Winona might think she’s made her way back into his heart, but love doesn’t survive betrayal–especially not Jayden’s brand of jealousy. 

I tap my fingers impatiently on the desk, looking out over the city skyline. Winona. That self–righteous little snake. She’s always acted like she’s better than me, like she’s won. 

I’ll never forget the look on her face when she first found out about Ashlyn and Jayden. The way her eyes filled with tears. The way she looked at me as though she had any right to be angry. She knew she’d lost. 

She doesn’t know what real power is. She doesn’t know what it means to protect your family at all costs. Jayden is my son. He’ll always be mine. 

I sit up straight as there’s a knock at the door. 

“Come in,” I say, keeping my voice smooth and composed, though my insides buzz in anticipation. 

My assistant enters, carrying a thick envelope. My eyes lock on it immediately. She places it on the desk in front of me, gives a quick nod, and leaves without a word. 

For a moment, I just stare at the envelope. It’s everything I’ve been waiting for, everything I’ve worked towards. But I don’t rush. The anticipation is half the fun, after all. 

I let it sit there for a second longer before sliding my fingers under the flap and pulling out the contents. 

There they are. The photos. 

I take the first one out slowly, savoring the moment. 

It’s Winona and Phillip, and already my grin widens. They’re seated in some dimly lit lounge, his arm draped casually behind her. They’re close. Too close. 

Her head is tilted toward him, and they’re smiling at each other like they’re sharing some private joke. “Ah, Phillip. You predictable fool,” I mutter to myself. “When will you all learn, loving her is poisonous.” I sift through the photos, watching as the night progresses. The drinks keep coming. Winona leans into him more. There’s a shot of his hand resting on her thigh. It’s all so perfectly orchestrated. 

Nothing 

too 

incriminating, not yet, but definitely intimate. Enough to start twisting Jayden’s mind. 

I hold up one of the last photos of the night. They’re sitting on a couch, Phillip’s arm around her, Winona’s head resting on his shoulder. He’s not touching her inappropriately, but it’s enough. 

Enough for someone to wonder what happened next. I know Jayden will jump to conclusions. The next one needs no guessing. They are kissing, passionately, and they are outside the club somewhere. 

The next shows her head back, eyes closed, mouth open as Phillip kisses her neck. 

That slut, in a dark alley, cheating on my boy. What trash she is. 

355 The Evidence Arrives 

+26 BONUS 

“Perfect,” I murmur. “Just perfect.” 

I carefully lay those photos aside and reach for the next batch, my heart racing with excitement. These 

are the real treasures. 

I pull out the first one, and immediately, I can’t suppress the laugh that escapes my lips. It’s Winona and Lance, in a club dancing. Him nuzzling her, her arms around his neck. 

Now, what sort of best friend does that? Bad Lance. Bad, bad Lance. 

Now, in what looks like a private room–maybe a hotel. It doesn’t matter. 

Lance is sitting on the edge of a bed, his shirt unbuttoned halfway. Winona is standing near him, her expression tells it all. And there’s others in the room. Not facing the camera, but I don’t think they are there to have a cup of tea. 

I sip mine. 

“Oh, this is gold,” I whisper, my fingers tracing the edge of the photo. 

Lance’s hand on her cheek, their faces inches apart. It doesn’t show them kissing, but it doesn’t need to. Jayden will fill in the blanks. 

He’ll see this and immediately assume the worst. And I know him–he’ll tear himself apart over it. That’s what makes him so easy to control. His jealousy. His insecurities. His anger. 

That’s how you control all men. Poor, stupid fools. 

I fan out the rest of the photos in front of me. There’s no actual sex captured, but that doesn’t matter. This is all just as powerful, if not more so. It leaves just enough room for imagination, for doubt. 

And doubt is all I need. 

I sit back in my chair, reveling in the images. Two different nights, two different men. One woman who thinks she can have it all.