If I were going to do this, then I needed to gather as much evidence as possible.

Using the jewelry order as an excuse, I continued coaxing Yvonne, "For custom pieces, we'll need to register some of your details for verification later. Could you send me your husband's name and contact information?"

She didn't hesitate for a second and gave me Finnick's name right away.

She added, almost as if she was worried I wouldn't take it seriously, "Just don't mess this up. My husband isn't someone you can offend."

My fingers trembled slightly as I typed my next message.

"You seem really happy. You and your husband must be deeply in love. Would you mind telling me how you met? And if you have any photos of the two of you together, that would help, too. I can design something more personal based on your story."

The next second, she sent over a full set of wedding photos. In it, she wore a white wedding gown, leaning into Finnick's arms with a soft smile. The way he looked at her carried a kind of warmth I had never once received.

When we got married, he had been at a critical point in his career.

Back then, he told me wedding photos were just something people did to indulge themselves and that his time shouldn't be wasted on that kind of thing.

But it wasn't that he didn't understand romance. He just never bothered giving it to me.

Yvonne kept bragging, her messages popping up one after another.

"My husband's really good to me. He never upsets me."

"Yeah, he's married, but he doesn't care about her anymore. I'm the only one he cares about."

"She can't even have kids. Everything he has is going to my son and me anyway."

She laid everything out like it was something to be proud of, like proof that she had won. I stared at the screen, my chest tightening with every word, and still, I played along.

"You're really lucky. Not everyone gets to be loved like that. I'm really envious. Don't worry. I'll make sure the piece is done with the best materials."

Flattered, she kept talking, going into detail about how they met and fell for each other, completely unaware that I was recording everything.

The large money transfers, the house, and the car—every single thing he gave her had come from money we earned together.

The more I saw, the more numb I felt.

The money I had hesitated to spend and that he told me we needed to save had poured all of it into someone else.

I couldn't hold it in anymore. I set my phone aside and covered my mouth, sobbing quietly.

All those years we had been together, I was the only one playing for keeps.

When I finally stopped, I wiped my face, the corners of my lips lifting into a cold smirk. Crying wouldn't change anything. If I wanted everything back, I had to take it myself.

After pulling myself together, I changed into a formal outfit and went to his company as his wife.

As I walked through the office, every employee lowered their head when they saw me. No one met my eyes, and their expressions were nervous.

They had all known, but they just never told me.

I didn't stop. I walked straight to the CEO's office and pushed the door open.

The moment it opened, the scene inside hit me like a punch to the gut.

Yvonne was sitting on Finnick's lap, her arms looped around his neck, laughing. Finnick looked at her, his expression tender.

They both turned at the sound.

The second Yvonne saw me, her face drained of color, and she scrambled off his lap.

Finnick froze, and for a moment, he couldn't even speak.

I stood in the doorway, looking straight at Finnick as I pointed at Yvonne. "Who is she?"

Finnick's expression shifted immediately, his voice laced with panic. "What are you doing here? She's my new assistant. Something came up at home, so I was just talking to her."

Assistant?

I almost laughed.

Yvonne stood off to the side, pale, not even daring to look at me, and there wasn't a trace of composure one would expect from someone in the corporate world.

I deliberately frowned, letting my voice sharpen. "What does whatever's going on in her life have to do with you? Or is there something going on between you—"

Yvonne was so intimidated that she started trembling. "Mrs. Carson, please don't misunderstand. Nothing is going on between Mr. Carson and me."

She fumbled with her phone and pulled up a picture. "I'm married. If you don't believe me, just look. This is my son."

I took the phone, glanced at it, and acted as if I believed her. "Hmph! With how you look, I doubt he'd be interested anyway."

Then, I turned back to Finnick, my expression twisting with anger. "You've been gone a lot lately, barely even coming home. At this point, I'm starting to think you've got someone else!"

I made a show of it, moving around the office, opening drawers, and looking through things. A few of the employees had already started peeking in.

In the end, I acted like I came up empty-handed, shot Finnick a glare, and walked out, slamming the door behind me.

The moment I left the office, my phone rang with a call from Finnick.

He sounded furious. "Why can't you just talk things out like a normal person? You came in and made a scene right in front of everyone. Are you trying to make a joke out of me?"

I let out a humorless laugh and hung up.

The truth was that it was a performance I had put on just for them. As long as they believed I was acting out of emotion and had nothing to back it up, they would let their guard down and walk straight into the trap I had laid out.

Not long after, Yvonne messaged me, saying she needed to delay payment.

Her tone carried a hint of irritation. "I don't know what's gotten into his wife lately. She's been keeping an eye on him nonstop. It's not the time for her to find out yet. If she does, it's going to be a mess."

I went along with it and coaxed her, but she only got bolder and began shamelessly insulting me.

"So what if she's his wife? She still can't compete with me. Finnick stopped caring about her a long time ago. Ever since we graduated, I'm the only one he's ever cared about.

"I gave him a son. What does she have? That hag can't even have kids! She's getting older, and she still thinks she can keep a man."

I tightened my grip on my phone, the anger in my chest nearly spilling over.

She was spending my money, taking my husband, and still brazenly humiliating me as if she had done nothing wrong.

I steadied my hands and typed my reply, "You're amazing. Honestly, only someone like you would be the perfect match for Mr. Carson."

Yvonne was so caught up in the flattery that she didn't notice how cold I sounded.

Over the next few days, I followed my plan and showed up at the company every so often to make another scene, each time acting emotional but never finding anything before leaving.

Meanwhile, Finnick went from uneasy to completely confident.

"What affair? Nothing is going on! Winona, what's wrong with you? Why do you keep treating me like I'm some criminal? I'm staying at the office for now. You should take some time to think about what you've done wrong!"

After a few rounds, I backed off and even apologized for how I had acted.

This time, both of them had completely lowered their guard. They figured I was just a clueless, emotional mess and didn't suspect a thing.

After I lay low for a week, Yvonne sent another message.

"That old hag couldn't find anything. After throwing a couple of tantrums, she's finally calmed down. My husband and I are coming by today to make the payment. Let's see if your custom pieces are as beautiful as they say."

They had finally taken the bait.

I arrived at the studio early and waited for the show to begin.

Half an hour later, the door to the studio was pushed open.

Finnick walked in holding their son, his other hand linked with Yvonne's. They looked affectionate, still smiling from whatever they had been talking about.

But the moment they saw me, their smiles instantly stiffened.

The room went quiet.

Just then, Benjamin, still in Finnick's arms, pointed at me and asked, "Daddy, who is she?"