The Perfect Marriage

LAYLA

Spencer has a mistress.

Those four words were enough to completely destroy what had already started as a half-decent day.

Not that the revelation came as a complete surprise. What surprised me was that it had taken this long to find out, even though the signs had been there for far longer than I wanted to admit.

I'd been in denial. I'd wanted to believe in the man I'd met all those years ago, the man who'd promised to love only me.

I guess a lifetime isn't nearly enough to truly know someone, much less a decade. I thought bitterly as I pulled up outside the gated estate.

Lakeview Estate was one of the city's newest luxury communities, home to some of the most expensive properties' money could buy.

I shoved my phone into my handbag as I climbed out of the car. It's been buzzing relentlessly for the past half hour, demanding my attention since my last phone call with my best friend.

I didn't need to look at the screen to know it was Debbie. I wasn't ready to talk to her about what I was about to do.

Debra would try to talk me out of what I was about to do. She'd throw logic at me the way only a lawyer could, carefully dismantling every emotional decision until I started questioning myself.

And with how good a lawyer she is, she'd probably succeed.

The thing was, despite everything, I wasn't hysterical. At first, I’d been so hurt and angry; those feelings had gradually morphed into disappointment. More than anything, though, I was heartbroken.

For the past two years, I'd noticed the changes in Spencer. The late-night meetings I knew nothing about. The emotional distance, the secret texting when he thought I wasn't looking.

The little things that, on their own, meant nothing, but together painted a picture I hadn't wanted to see.

We'd been married for eight years now and had known each other even longer. We'd survived the hardest years of our lives together. Built a company from the ground up until it grew into a business worth hundreds of millions, employing more than five hundred people.

I'd been by his side every step of the way.

I'd poured my heart, knowledge, experience, and even my inheritance into making the company what it is today.

In fact, I'd invested more than Spencer himself, making me the largest shareholder. Yet not once had I ever tried to undermine his authority as CEO.

What hurt wasn't just discovering he'd kept a mistress hidden for only God knows how long. It was learning that he'd used our company funds to buy her a freaking villa.

He'd been clever about it too.

The property had been purchased through one of our subsidiary companies before the mortgage was quietly transferred into his mistress's name.

If I hadn't stumbled across the paperwork by pure accident, I might never have found out.

Then came the confirmation.

A couple of hours ago, Debbie had been visiting a client who lived in this very estate. By chance, she'd seen Spencer driving with a young woman before the two of them walked into the villa together.

Being the concerned best friend she is. Debra had taken pictures, even managed to find out the woman's name and address before calling me.

Stella James.

The woman my husband had apparently chosen over family dinners, parent-teacher meetings, and vacations with our daughter.

My heels clicked against the pavement as I hurried toward the villa, my heart pounding with unease.

I shoved the feeling aside. I wasn't here to confront Spencer's side chick or make a scene. I’m here to collect evidence.

Evidence my lawyers would use to bury him in court. I slipped my phone from my handbag and held it tightly as I approached the two-story building that looked like it had been taken out of Architectural Digest Magazine.

My hand trembled slightly as I pressed the doorbell.

Once, twice, and a third time. The door finally swung open. A beautiful blonde woman stood in the doorway.

Surprise flickered in her blue eyes, then recognition before her ruby-red lips curved into a smug smile.

She was young, probably in her early to mid-twenties, at least half a decade younger than me. She wore a sky blue short silky robe paired with ridiculously high heels that made her legs look even longer.

I felt my mouth go dry because a diamond necklace identical to the one Spencer had given me for our anniversary three months ago sat around her neck.

“Yes?”

“Stella James?”

“This is her. And you are?” she asked, arching one perfectly shaped brow.

“I'm Lay…”

“I'm kidding.” She laughed. “Of course, I know who you are. You work with Spencer. Come in.”

I stepped inside.

“If you're looking for Spencer, he just left,” Stella said casually as she shut the door and strolled inside like a model on a runway.

My eyes drifted to the kitchen island. Two dinner plates sat beside half-empty wine glasses, the remnants of steak and side dishes still on them. The food hadn't even gone cold.

From the looks of it, Spencer hadn't been gone all that long.

So much for the meeting he'd claimed was keeping him in the office. My heart twisted painfully.

Nothing new. Just another lie to add to the pile of hundreds he'd told me since his affair began.

The interior of the house was even more extravagant than the outside.

A crystal chandelier hung from the soaring ceiling, casting shimmering light across polished marble floors and walls. Expensive artwork decorated every available space, while elegant furniture filled the room with understated luxury.

The kind of luxury Spencer's mistress was enjoying with my hard-earned money made another wave of anger crash over me.

“I’m also his wife,” I said flatly. I never intended to hide who I was.

“Oh.” Stella fluttered her fake lashes. “I didn't know you two were still married. Spence told me you weren't together anymore. I just assumed that meant you were divorced.”

Her mocking smile widened. “Well, feel free to look around or sit, whatever.”

She shrugged before she sashayed toward the bar, slipped behind the counter, and poured herself a glass of red wine. While I walked around taking everything in.

I swallowed my anger and discreetly pressed the record button on my phone as I wandered through the living room.

“Did Spencer actually tell you we are divorced?” I asked. “Or was that just your assumption?”

Stella laughed before taking a slow sip of her wine. “Fishing for information?” She stood up gracefully, her lips twisted with a cruel smile as she swirled the glass of wine in her hand before she took a sip.

“Listen, I’m not here for chit-chat; I just wanted to see where my husband has been spending our money. I’ll be gone when I’m done looking over our new property, and you can go ahead and do your usual thing.”

Which we all know was nothing.

Stella didn’t look like she’d worked a day in her life. I know women like her who rely on their beauty and men to take care of them.

While I’m not one to judge other women on how they decide to live their lives on a normal day, the situation right now is different.

This is my sweat and blood and years of hard work Spencer is spending on her.

“I actually don’t mind sharing,” she said, her heels click-clacking on the marble floor as she followed closely behind me.