Chapter 5@@@

On the drive home, Ethan's phone kept ringing.

He connected it to Bluetooth without hesitation, playing Mila's voice message in front of me.

"Darling, I'm waiting for you at the office. I bought new lace lingerie~"

The car suddenly stopped. I turned my head with feigned confusion.

"What's wrong? Did you hear something?"

Seeing my expression, guilt flashed in Ethan's eyes.

But the next second, he said warmly: "Baby, I might need to go back to the office tonight. A client needs a proposal urgently, and I have to verify it personally."

His tone held apology, as if afraid I'd be disappointed.

I turned to look at him, my smile gentle: "Then I'll come with you. I'd like to see your work environment anyway."

He was clearly stunned for a moment, panic flickering in his eyes.

But he quickly recovered, reaching for my hand: "Sure, though it might be a bit boring."

"That's fine."

I replied quietly.

The car entered the underground parking of Carter Group headquarters.

In the night, only a few floors of the building were lit.

We entered the elevator together. He looked down at his phone, the screen flashing by—a French text abbreviation. No need to guess who the recipient was.

My smile didn't change. I even reached out to take his arm: "You look busy."

He looked up, gazing at me gently: "I always put you first."

The elevator reached the top floor.

The secretaries had all left for the day. The corridor was empty and quiet.

Ethan led me into his office, gesturing for me to sit: "Wait for me here. I'll just grab some files. Won't be long."

"Okay."

I nodded with a smile.

He turned and left, his footsteps gradually fading.

I surveyed this elegantly furnished reception room—abstract paintings on the walls, aromatherapy and a crystal ornament on the table.

Just then, I heard light footsteps outside and a woman's low voice.

It was Mila.

Her voice was extremely soft, still in French: "Are you really going to let her ruin our beautiful night?"

My heart clenched, my fingertips nearly piercing my palm, but I remained seated calmly on the sofa.

A few seconds later, Ethan's voice sounded, still in French: "Stop it. I'll make it up to you double tomorrow night."

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and when I opened them again, my gaze was sharp as a blade.

Before they could enter, I leaned down and placed a tiny recording pen I'd brought into the base of the crystal ornament.

The small red light blinked steadily, quiet but powerful.

Moments later, the door opened.

Mila froze, then displayed a professional smile: "Oh, Vivian, you're here too."

I smiled and stood, handing her the coffee I'd prepared: "What a coincidence seeing you tonight. Your dress looks beautiful."

Her expression stiffened slightly but quickly recovered.

Ethan smiled naturally, walking over to put his arm around my shoulder: "Mila just came to coordinate some documents."

"Mm."

I nodded as if I truly understood nothing.

"I'm getting a bit bored actually. I'll go downstairs for a walk. Call me when you're done with work."

They needed a space to be alone. So I gave it to them.

As I spoke, both Ethan's and Mila's eyes flashed with brightness simultaneously.

I smiled and turned away.

The moment I turned, my smile quickly fell.

For the next hour and a half, I sat quietly in the downstairs café, browsing magazines.

When they finished their so-called "overtime."

Ethan found me in the café, thoughtfully draping my coat over me and saying softly:

"Sorry you had to wait. Let's go home."

As he drew near, I smelled Mila's perfume on him, and even saw suggestive marks beneath his shirt collar.

I nodded, my voice gentle: "I need to go back upstairs first. I think I left my earring in your office."

When leaving earlier, I'd deliberately left my earring there.

The moment I opened the office, I immediately saw the crystal ornament.

The recording pen lay there quietly, blinking with a faint red light.

I walked over, removed the memory card, and placed it in my bag, then installed a fresh one.

After that, I retrieved my earring from the sofa.

The still-damp marks on the sofa reminded me what had happened—I didn't even need to listen to the memory card.

My fingers trembled as I gripped my bag tightly.

This night, I'd collected another piece of evidence of Ethan's betrayal.