When Your Cheating Husband's Dream Become Your Divorce Evidence novel Chapter 50

– Chapter 3

Two AM. I lay wide awake staring at the ceiling, listening to Dylan’s steady breathing.

My bedmate felt like he was separated from me by a balance sheet.

Light leaked from under the study door-his laptop was still open, screen displaying the Stellar Trust No. 1 management dashboard.

1 tiptoed inside, and with just one glance, 1 froze completely in place.

[Pending Payments This Month]

[Swiss Lake Lucerne Condo Final Payment: $3,200,000 (Reserved, pending signature)]

[Stella’s Mother Living Expenses: $2,000 (REJECTED – Reason: Non-essential)]

The second line was marked in red. [Rejected by: Dylan. Time: 11:58 PM.]

Ten minutes ago, he’d clicked “DENY,” then turned off the lights and went to bed, like casually flipping off a hallway switch.

exited the system, my gaze falling on the password-protected fireproof safe on the bookshelf’s bottom shelf-Dylan’s “treasure chest.”

When we married, he’d locked both our property deeds, stock certificates, wedding rings, and matching watches inside. Only he knew the combination.

I’d tried his birthday, our anniversary, even his dog’s name. All wrong.

Tonight, I decided to try one more time.

I crouched down, ear against the cold metal door, fingers slowly turning:

O-7-2-1-the date he got his CPA certification.

Click. It opened.

held my breath and pulled the door open. The first layer held thick file folders:

opened one and my pupils dilated-this amended draft showed Dylan adding himself as “sole protector” with a new clause: “Should beneficiary Stella Parke ose civil capacity due to mental, health, or debt issues, her entire share automatically transfers to the protector.”

Date: three days ago.

In other words, if I “accidentally went crazy” or fell “seriously ill,” he could legally swallow all my assets.

remembered he had a friend at the psychiatric hospital.

Fuddenly, a deep chill and retroactive fear washed over me.

at the bottom of the safe sat a black velvet pouch. I opened it-a 10.02-carat D-color diamond ring, certificate number matching exactly the one sold at last ye

Christie’s New York autumn auction.

Hale price: $1,180,000.

Buyer: Dylan Morrison.

Payment account: Stellar Trust No. 1.

gripped the ring, remembering the new watch he’d flaunted on Instagram last week-a Rolex Daytona, paired with this exact diamond.

His reply to followers: “Anniversary gift from the wife. Tacky as hell, but whatever.”

Twenty thousand likes, people calling him a “life winner.”

Nobody knew his “wife” couldn’t even approve two thousand dollars for her own mother.

I took a deep breath, photographed the documents and ring, encrypted and uploaded them to the cloud, then restored the safe to its original state.