The class reunion ended on a sour note.

Zoey helped the swollen-faced Michael back on his feet and left with him, not bothering to even spare me a glance.

The rest of our classmates eyed me as they left. Some gave me pitying looks, while others seemed stunned. But most of them just looked amused by the spectacle.

Zoey didn't contact me for a whole week, but Michael messaged me every single day. They'd go to a bar together every other day. She'd wear a crop top with a low neckline and sit in Michael's lap.

From the angle Michael took his videos, I got a clear view of everything spilling out from the top of her neckline. He even ran his hand up her thigh, sliding all the way to the top, until she let out a soft moan.

Rage flooded through me, but all I could do was punch the wall in vain.

Despite being together for three years, the most intimate thing Zoey and I had done was hold hands.

She'd said she was pretty conservative when it came to intimacy before marriage—that she couldn't accept jumping in bed with a guy so quickly and didn't want to give herself away so easily.

I'd suppressed my own desires, making sure to show extra restraint around her. I was always careful to treat her with the utmost care, afraid of scaring her.

But she was perfectly fine with sitting in Michael's lap and getting intimate with him.

It finally hit me that Zoey never loved me. She didn't care about my feelings at all. Since that was the case, there was no reason for us to stay together any longer.

But before breaking up with her, I decided to give her a gift.

Five days later, Zoey's father, Ernest Johnson, celebrated his birthday. As he'd always liked me a lot, she had no choice but to invite me to her house for the party.

The moment I entered the house, I was triggered by the sight of Michael's hand caressing Zoey's behind.

When she spotted me, she surreptitiously gave him a warning pat. He squeezed her butt one last time before releasing her, his expression neutral.

Zoey had dressed up for the occasion. Her heels clacked loudly as she walked toward me, a slight frown on her face. "What took you so long, Neil? My dad's been waiting for you."

I handed two gift boxes to her. "One is for you, and one is for Mr. Johnson."

Hearing that, Zoey opened her gift box with a puzzled look. I gave her a pair of earrings. However, they were no ordinary earrings—I'd installed a listening device in them.

"Consider it an apology. I went a bit too far with the way I treated Michael. Let me put them on for you, Zoey."

I gently brushed aside the loose strands of hair by her ear—only to notice a deep mark on the back of her neck. It was a hickey. I forced myself to stay calm, doing my best to keep my hands from trembling as I carefully put the earrings on her.

Zoey didn't notice anything unusual about my emotions. She even grinned at me and asked, "Do they look good on me?"

The corners of my mouth felt tight, a bitter taste rising in my throat.

"They do."

When Mr. Johnson spotted me, he came over and patted me on the shoulder before pulling Michael over as well.

"Neil, Zoey told me that you and Michael got into a bit of a fight. Her mother and I watched the two of them grow up together, you know. It's normal for them to be close to each other. A grown man like you mustn't be too petty."

Chuckling, I responded with a slightly confused expression, "But Zoey hasn't even kissed me before, Mr. Johnson, let alone done anything else beyond that. Can you accept it if Mrs. Johnson hugs and kisses her male friend—and maybe even gets pregnant with his child?"

"What the hell do you think you're saying, you little punk?" Mr. Johnson snapped, his expression stormy.

I knew the Johnsons wouldn't believe me just based on a few words alone, but that wasn't a problem for me. The moment I saw Zoey quietly pulling Michael away, I knew my chance had come.

Zoey's voice came through my in-ear Bluetooth headset. I immediately turned on the recording function on my phone, made an excuse to leave, and went after them.

"Michael, what are you doing?" Zoey's voice sounded a little reproachful, but more than that, it sounded coy and teasing.

"Zoey, why don't we try something a little more thrilling, hm?"

At the very next second, I began to hear soft moans and uneven breathing.

Zoey's voice was all breathy and dripping with ecstasy as she whined, "Michael, stop… We're in the middle of my dad's birthday party…"

I didn't need a clue to figure out what the two were doing right now.

Holding in my emotions, I stood outside the door of the second-floor bathroom and listened as the sounds coming from the other side grew louder and more intense.

"The fact that it's his birthday party is what makes it thrilling, Zoey!"

I felt sick to my stomach.

Just then, Sheryl Carter, a good friend of Zoey's, crept over toward the bathroom. I pulled her aside and questioned her, "What are you doing here?"

She had a plastic bag with her and was eyeing me furiously as well. "I'm here to give Zoey something. Get out of my way."

I grabbed the plastic bag from her and lifted my hand up. "I'll make the delivery for you."

Sheryl was fairly short. Even when she stood on her tiptoes, she couldn't reach the plastic bag, so she could only watch as I checked what was inside.

Unsurprisingly, I saw a box of condoms. Holding it in my hand, I asked puzzledly, "Why would Zoey get you to bring this to her?"

Sheryl was panicking. She hemmed and hawed without giving me a straight answer.

At that very moment, Zoey called her. She wanted to ask Zoey for help, but the moment the call connected, Zoey screeched rudely, "All I did was ask you to get me something! Why the hell are you taking so long?

"Don't forget that you're just my maid, Sheryl! How dare you waste my time like that? Do you still want the money for your mom's hospital bills or not?"

Feeling rather taken aback, I looked at Sheryl. She spent all her time with Zoey, so I'd assumed they were good friends.

As it turned out…

Raising a brow, I handed the plastic bag back to Sheryl and held my hand out to her.

"Why don't we team up, Ms. Carter? You help me expose Zoe and Michael's affair, and I'll help you with your mom's hospital bills."

After all, my family had some money to spare, too.

Sheryl hesitated for the briefest moment before shaking my hand. "It's a deal."

I filled her in on my plan, and she completed Zoey's demand by entering the bathroom to hand over the goods. Her face was pretty red when she came back out.

We exchanged a look before she scampered back downstairs, shouting in a panic, "Fire! There's a fire!"

As the villa's fire alarm went off, the guests instantly fell into chaos.

I went up to Mr. Johnson and asked with an anxious expression, "Mr. Johnson! Where's Zoey?"

Sheryl, who was nearby, cried out in feigned alarm, "Oh, no! Zoey's still in the bathroom, changing! We need to go get her!"

Mr. and Mrs. Johnson rushed up to the bathroom on the second floor, only to hear the sounds coming from the inside. Their faces paled. After glancing at each other, they held their breaths and opened the door.

A second after the door swung open, I heard Mr. Johnson shout furiously, "You shameless fools! Put your clothes back on right this minute!"

Their clothes?

Oops! I'd already tossed their clothes out.