I had always been one to settle scores.

The next morning, I summoned Diana to my company under a flimsy pretext. The project proposal I tossed in her face was flawless, but I tore into it anyway, berating her in front of her subordinates.

Her forced smile couldn't hide the hatred burning in her eyes as she left, head bowed.

Back at my desk, I opened the tracking app on my phone. Last night, while Nick was distracted on the balcony, chatting with Diana, I slipped a GPS tracker into his bag, hidden inside the lighter he always carried.

As expected, he began to move, leaving his office and heading toward the Horton Hotel in the city center. The irony wasn't lost on me. It was where we'd held our wedding seven years ago.

My phone's wallpaper was still a photo from that day. Nick was in his tuxedo, holding my hand, tears of joy in his eyes. Who could have imagined that, seven years later, he'd be meeting another woman in the same place?

I didn't rush to follow, though. Evidence of their affair was crucial, but a mere photo of them in bed wouldn't be enough to ruin them.

In our social circle, infidelity was often just gossip fodder, something to flaunt rather than hide. But Nick had forgotten one critical detail: the Horton Hotel was my property.

I called the hotel manager and instructed her to upgrade Nick's room to a presidential suite. The suite, of course, was fitted with high-definition cameras I'd installed for just such an occasion.

The manager called back shortly after. "Ma'am, we informed Mr. Doyle of the upgrade, citing his wedding as the reason. He was pleased and didn't react much to the mention of the wedding."

I had overestimated his morals. He didn't feel guilty about his cheating at all. Well, that made things easier. I'd hold back no punches.

When it was about time, I instructed my secretary to schedule my next meeting at the Horton Hotel. As I left, I caught her frantically dialing someone.

The bait had been taken. My secretary was Nick's distant cousin. She had been accepting bribes from Diana for months. I'd known but let it slide, thinking Diana was just currying favor for business.

Now it was clear this secretary had been their spy, feeding them my every move. It was fine. A spy exposed was a tool to be wielded.

I took my time driving to the hotel. Just before entering, I spotted Nick and Diana peeking around a corner, only to duck back when they saw me.

Perfect timing! Pretending I hadn't noticed, I strolled into the lobby and settled into the lounge area.

Minutes later, Nick emerged alone, his expression calm as he headed for the exit. When he saw me, he put on a show of surprise, jogging over with a sheepish grin.

"Honey, what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice low and warm. "Randy asked me to meet him here to cheer him up, but he bailed. What a waste of a trip!"

He grabbed my hand, his face a mask of frustration, but the sweat beading on his forehead and the strange scent clinging to him betrayed his nerves.

My stomach churned. I pulled my hand free and looked him in the eye.

"Ms. Parker, what a coincidence!" I said, my gaze sliding past Nick to Diana, who was trying to slip out the hotel's front door. "Fancy meeting you here."

A bead of sweat glistened on her temple, trailing down her face.

I gave a light, mocking laugh and shrugged. "I thought you'd be busy revising the tender for the East City project. Doesn't seem like your company is in much of a hurry."

Diana approached with her head down, but I caught a flicker of resentment in her eyes. She muttered, "Greetings, Mr. and Mrs. Doyle. I had a last-minute project meeting here, but I'm heading back now to revise the tender as you requested."

Sensing her discomfort, Nick looped his arm through mine, his voice syrupy. "Come on, honey, Ms. Parker is my boss, and she's always looked out for me at work. Don't make things hard for her."

He turned to her with a grin. "Ms. Parker, you're too honest. You know the East City project is owned by my wife's company. You should've told me, and I'd have convinced her to hand it to us for my sake."

I bit back a sneer, keeping my expression neutral. Even now, he thought I'd be foolish enough to hand a lucrative deal to his mistress.

"If I'd known Ms. Parker was so good to you, I wouldn't have been so tough on her," I said smoothly. "But the tender does have issues. Please revise it carefully, Ms. Parker, and we'll discuss next steps."

Relieved, Diana thanked me and hurried off. Her reflection in the hotel's glass doors revealed a smug, mocking smirk.

She could laugh while she could. Soon enough, I'd make her cry.

I gently disentangled myself from Nick and took his arm, leading him deeper into the hotel. His cheeks flushed as he probed, "Where are we going?"

I didn't answer, just guiding him to the elevator and pressing the button for the floor of the presidential suite. As the doors closed, he leaned in close, his eyes soft and suggestive.

But his breath carried a faint, nauseating odor that made me recoil inwardly. In the confined space, it was impossible to ignore.

He froze, clamping his mouth shut, and his eyes darted to the floor indicator. That was when he finally realized where we were headed to the same floor where he'd just been with Diana.

Sweat glistened on his forehead again. His voice was small, hesitant. "This is sudden. What's the plan, honey?"

The elevator dinged, and I pulled him out, marching toward the presidential suite. His steps grew heavier, his body trembling as we neared the door.

At the suite's entrance, he was shaking so badly he could barely stand. I pulled a keycard from my pocket, swiped it, and pushed him inside.

"When did you book a suite here?" Nick stammered, stumbling from my push but clinging to his innocent act. "It's kind of a mess. Should we call housekeeping?"

I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, but I stayed silent, walking to the television and turning it on. With a few clicks, I pulled up the footage.

Within seconds, the screen filled with sounds that made his face burn with shame. The voice's owner stood frozen, his eyes wide with horror.

"No!" he screamed, scrambling to the TV and fumbling to silence it. When he couldn't, he threw himself in front of the screen, arms spread as if he could block the truth.

His face was a mask of panic, his voice quivering. "Honey, please, let me explain."

I pulled a chair over and sat down, pointing at the TV without breaking eye contact. "What's there to explain?"

"I..." He faltered, then collapsed to his knees, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry, honey. I messed up. Please forgive me just this once. I swear it was only this time."

His words were so rehearsed and polished that they cut deeper than the betrayal itself. I'd indulged him too long, letting him believe I'd always forgive him.

"Fine," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "But from now on, you do exactly as I say."

"Anything," he cried, relief flooding his face as he shuffled toward me.

His hand reached out to me, but I stood up and stepped aside, looking down at him with cold detachment. "Call Diana and tell her to come back. Don't mention I'm here."

His head jerked up, disbelief etched into his features. "What?"

"Now!" I demanded. "You'll know what to do next."

Trembling, he wiped his tears and fumbled for his phone. When the call connected, his voice steadied, slipping into the same smooth, deceptive tone he'd used to lie to me for months.

That was when I realized I'd never truly known the man I'd shared seven years with. He was a far better actor than I'd ever given him credit for.

I tapped my phone, finalizing the arrangements, and soon, the suite's door clicked open. Nick glanced at me, his eyes searching for guidance. I nodded toward the door.

As it swung open, Diana's voice cut through, sharp and eager, mingling with Nick's feigned whimpers. "Your pathetic wife gone already? Couldn't wait, could you?"

Her eyes landed on me, and she froze, her arms still around Nick. The words died in her throat. Then, in an instant, she shed her usual deference and laughed.

"Didn't peg you for this, Mrs. Doyle," she said, stepping closer with a playful smirk. "Rich people and their kinks. Nick said you were boring in bed, but this? This is your kind of thrill?"

Her triumphant grin fueled my rage. I clenched my fist and slapped her hard across the face.

"Honey, what are you doing?" Nick yelped, lunging toward her.

Diana shoved him away, her eyes blazing as she sprang up and aimed a kick at me. I sidestepped just enough to avoid serious harm and let myself fall to the floor, playing the part.

Nick's gaze flickered with a hint of guilt, but Diana yanked him onto the bed, tearing at his clothes with contempt.

"You pathetic thing!" she spat at me. "Acting all high and mighty. You deserve to lie there and watch your husband get taken."

She unbuttoned his shirt, and Nick didn't try to refuse her. Then, the suite's electronic lock clicked open. A satisfied smile curled my lips.