Chapter 103: A DISCOVERY

"A debit of five million dollars?"

My fingers curled tightly around the glass of whiskey that I had poured for myself hours ago. I had barely taken more than one sip.

How could I have been so blindsided? How the hell did I not see what was right in front of me all along? Abigail Kellerman had deceived me.

It stung; it stung so bad that not even the burn of the whiskey could stop the fury burning in my veins.

Was this some sick joke? Was she feeling rather smug every time I was drawn to her like a moth to flame at the club, pining for her, aching for her, letting her touch me, putting up a freaking pretense?

When Henry showed me her registration file, I wasn’t so shocked that it was her. I had been suspecting for a while, but had told myself I was only searching for excuses to fuck my assistant.

I could tolerate everything else, except the lies. When Matt sent me the email showing she was red, it felt like she grabbed the knife and twisted it deeper until I was impaled further.

"That doesn’t change what she did," I spat, glaring down at the notification on my screen.

Usually, I didn’t pay any attention to how she spent money. As long as she didn’t bother me, I was fine. But with the pressing urge to divorce her and get her out of I and Angel’s life for good, the demand to find evidence was strong.

I tapped the notification, a frown creasing my forehead as I read the name of the person she had transferred five fucking million to.

Him? Really? Why would my wife be sending that whopping amount of money to him?

Still in the Dress shirt and pants that I had worn to the club, I strode to the elevator and made my way to the ground floor of the penthouse.

In thirty minutes, I arrived at Simon’s home in the suburbs, drove the car over his garden, knocking down the gnomes.

The door opened, and my PI gaped at me, his face white as chalk. He had a flimsy robe on, and the smell of my dear wife’s perfume clung to him like a second skin.

"B-Boss- "

"Wait, please," He sputtered, holding a hand up while the other hand clutched his nose. "I can explain, sir- "

"Was it clever? Thinking you could get my money, pretend to be working for me, while deceiving me? Such a genius, aren’t you?"

"You couldn’t resist her charms?" A sardonic laugh left my lips. "You poor, defenseless man,"

His apologies only fueled my irritation. My fist tightened around his shirt, choking him lightly. "You have twenty-four hours to submit proof that she’s cheating on me, or you’re ruined, Simons. I will reduce you down to that robe on your back. You will have every single one you have ever crossed knocking on your day in one hour if you don’t. Have I made myself clear?"

When I drove back to the penthouse, however, an Aston Martin was parked outside the gate, and leaning against it was Victoria, a playful grin on her lips.