“Know them?” Alex’s voice was like ice. “Ella, where are you right now? I’m coming to get you.”
I gave him my location. 30 minutes later, a black Lincoln navigator pulled up. The window rolled down, revealing Alex’s face more mature and handsome than I remembered. He was in a perfectly tailored suit, his features sharp, exuding a quiet confidence that was a world away from the greasy, pathetic mark.
“Get in.”
He opened the passenger door for me. I stood there awkwardly with my suitcase. He naturally took it from me, placed it in the back, and said,
“First, let’s get you settled somewhere. Get something to eat. We can figure out the rest later.”
He took me to a five-star hotel downtown and got me a suite. Standing in the spacious, brightly lit room, looking out at the glittering city skyline, I felt like I was in a dream. Just an hour ago, I was the humiliated housewife. Now I was here.
Alex ordered room service. Soon, a delicious meal arrived.
“Eat something. You look pale.”
He handed me the silverware. I was starving. I hadn’t eaten since the afternoon, and the emotional trauma had drained me. I buried my head in the food, but tears started falling into my bowl again.
“I’m sorry, Alex, for letting you see me like this.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Alex said, handing me a napkin.
His eyes held a flicker of pain.
“I’m the one who should be sorry. If I had been more persistent back then, maybe you wouldn’t have suffered all this.”
I shook my head.
“It’s not your fault. I was blind.”
After dinner, Alex poured me a glass of warm water and sat on the sofa across from me, his expression serious.
“Ella, what I’m about to tell you might be shocking, but please stay calm.”
I nodded. He took out his phone, pulled up a photo, and handed it to me. In the picture, a smiling woman was holding a man’s arm intimately. The woman was unmistakably Lily from my house, and the man beside her was Alex. My mind went blank. I stared at him in disbelief.
“What? What is this?”
“Lily.”
Alex said, his tone flat, but his eyes swirling with complex emotions.
“Is my wife. Legally, at least.”
I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. The world had to be this small. My husband’s mistress was my savior’s wife. This was the kind of convoluted plot you wouldn’t even see in a soap opera.
“We’ve been married for 3 years.”
A marriage of convenience between our families, Alex explained, seeing my shock. I was focused on my business and didn’t pay her much attention. A year ago, she started making excuses to stay out all night spending company money lavishly. I thought she was just immature, so I looked the other way. 6 months ago, I discovered she was secretly transferring assets. I had someone investigate and found out she was keeping a boy toy on the side.
“That man is your husband, Mark.”
His words were like a series of bombs exploding in my head. So, the successful high-class woman Mark was so proud of, was nothing more than an adulterous gold digger siphoning money from her own husband’s family. And my mother-in-law, Carol, who thought she’d hit the jackpot, had been played for a complete fool. The irony was staggering.
“Why would she choose Mark?” I asked, confused.
“Because Mark is greedy and stupid,” Alex said bluntly.
Lily painted him a picture of a glamorous life, told him her connections could make him rich. A man like Mark, all ambition and no substance would naturally fall for it. Lily used him not just for excitement, but as a tool to move my money. She convinced him to use your marital assets and even money from his parents to invest in her so-called projects. In reality, all that money went straight into her pocket.
A cold chill ran down my spine. I remembered something. About 3 months ago, my mother-in-law was suddenly in a fantastic mood, a complete change from her usual stinginess. I overheard her and Mark whispering in his room.
“Son, are you sure that project Lily mentioned is reliable? That’s our entire retirement fund.”
“Mom, don’t worry. Would Lily lie to me?” She said, “The return is 30%. Once we make this money, we’ll buy a bigger house and kick that washed up housewife out.”
At the time, I just felt heartbroken. Now, I realized their investment was long gone.
“So, my mother-in-law’s retirement savings gone.”
“Every last scent,”
