Angela POV

When I woke the next morning, both Sean and Christina were gone.

The suspicion that had been gnawing at me all night suddenly felt like certainty – they must have spent the night together.

I couldn’t help myself; I had to know.

My feet carried me to Christina’s guest room before I could think better of it. I hesitated for just a moment before pushing the door open, slipping inside like an intruder in my own home.

The room was immaculate, pristine sheets perfectly made, everything in its proper place. There was no obvious sign that Sean had spent the night here, but Christina’s signature perfume still lingered in the air, marking her territory.

I was suddenly distracted by a small shiny object next to the pillow.

I walked over, picked it up, and realized it was a pure gold cufflink. The engraved “S” reminded me—it was Sean’s! The one I gave him for his birthday last year.

So he really did sleep with Christina last night!

Soon this will be her bedroom, not just a guest room, I thought bitterly. Everything that’s mine will become hers.

“Oh! Excuse me, Mrs. Shaw.”

I startled at the maid’s voice, turning to find the maid Sarah hovering uncertainly in the doorway with cleaning supplies.

The knowing look in her eyes made my cheeks burn – how pathetic must I seem, sneaking around my own home looking for evidence of my husband’s infidelity?

I retreated to my room, mortification following me like a shadow. I had barely sat down when a knock came at my door.

“Mrs. Shaw?” Sarah’s voice came through the door. “Would you like your breakfast brought up?”

“No, thank you.” The thought of food made my stomach roll. “When did Mr. Shaw and Miss Jordan leave?”

A slight pause. “They left early this morning. Mr. Shaw had a breakfast meeting, and Miss Jordan accompanied him.”

Of course she did.

I managed to shower and dress, each movement requiring more energy than it should. The mirror reflected a pale version of myself – designer clothes hanging slightly loose, makeup carefully applied to hide the shadows under my eyes.

The perfect mask of an Billionaire‘s wife, even as my marriage crumbled around me.

The lobby of our building buzzed with the discrete energy that meant gossip was circulating. The usual morning parade of dog walkers and personal trainers moved with studied casualness, voices dropping to whispers as I approached.

“…always knew it was temporary…”

“…saved his life on that yacht…”

“…just waiting for her to …”

I kept my head high, pretending not to hear the fragments of conversation that followed me. Two years of practice had perfected my ability to maintain dignity in the face of society’s judgment.

“Mrs. Shaw.” James Morrison’s voice cut through the whispers like a knife.

“A moment of your time?”

I followed him to his office, grateful for the escape.

“Mr. Shaw asked me to ensure you take these.” He placed a small pharmacy bag on his desk.

I stared at the bag, my throat suddenly tight. “Did he say what they were?”

“Anti-fever medication, I believe. He was quite insistent about the timing – every four hours, with food.”

My hand trembled slightly as I picked up the bag. Through the white paper, I could feel the sharp edges of pill boxes that might or might not be safe for pregnancy.

The irony of it hit me then – Sean’s concern for my health could unknowingly harm his unborn child.

“Thank you, James.” I turned to leave, but his voice stopped me.