Chapter4

That night, I didn't argue with him anymore.

I watched him go into the study and close the door, heard his voice on the phone, kept low.

I sat in the living room, and my mind actually went quiet.

The next morning, I started doing something.

I exported all the statements from our joint accounts, downloading them one by one.

Credit card records, company reimbursement records, hotel invoices, transfer history.

As the numbers lined up row by row, I finally realized just how serious this was.

Over the past three years, he'd made personal transfers to that woman totaling six figures.

Fixed amounts every month, with vague notes.

There was also a lease agreement.

An apartment address downtown, the rent absurdly high. Signed under the company name.

I stared at that contract for a long time.

He'd used company money to rent her an apartment.

I kept scrolling back. When the source details of the company's initial startup capital appeared, my hand stopped.

That investment—it was from my parents.

Back when his startup was running out of money, I'd gone home to ask my parents for help.

I remembered that period—I'd called almost every day, repeatedly explaining his plans, promising I'd bear the risks.

My parents finally agreed, for my sake.

I'd found resources for him, run around to banks for him, connected him with clients.

Back then, I'd only thought that once he succeeded, our life would get better.

Now he was taking my parents' hard-earned money and using it to please another woman.

I backed up all the screenshots to the cloud and copied them to a hard drive.

That afternoon, I contacted a lawyer.

The voice on the phone was calm: "You'll need to prepare complete financial evidence and chat records. With company funds involved, things will be more complicated."

"I know," I said. "I'll get everything organized."

After hanging up, I suddenly felt cold.

But I didn't stop.

On the third day, I went to the company.

The receptionist looked surprised to see me. "Elena, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to see Daniel," I said.

The conference room door was half open. He was discussing a project with several people. I pushed the door open and walked in.

When he saw me, his brow furrowed visibly. "What are you doing at the company?"

"We need to talk," I said.

Several department heads sat in the conference room. The air immediately grew awkward.

He stood up, lowering his voice but deliberately letting everyone hear: "Elena hasn't been in great mental shape lately. I've already told her to rest at home."

I looked at him.

He continued, "She's dealing with some emotional issues. Not appropriate to bring them to the office."

People in the conference room exchanged glances.

Suddenly, the sound of heels clicking came from the doorway.

She walked in.

Young, well-dressed, her face showing just the right amount of concern.

"Daniel, I heard Elena was here." She looked at me, her voice soft. "Are you okay? About what happened the other day, I'm really sorry for the misunderstanding."

This was the first time I'd seen her face-to-face.

She stood next to him, like a considerate colleague.

I heard people whispering, like they were waiting for a show.

Everyone was watching.

He stood between me and her, his tone advisory: "Elena, you should go home first. When you've calmed down a bit, we can talk."

I looked at them both.

I suddenly understood that in his eyes, I'd already become the unstable one.

And she was innocent.

The conference room fell uncomfortably silent.

I didn't say another word.

I just stood there, clearly realizing one thing.

They'd turned me into a joke.