When He Wore My Nightclothes to Cheat

##Chapter 1

After seven years of marriage, Bella thought she was Mrs. Ramirez, only to discover she was merely a temporary placeholder in a secretary's love story.

While David Ramirez whisked away his mistress Jenny Martin to Hawaii, Bella faced humiliation at the office—abandoned and treated as nothing more than a convenient tool.

A multi-million-dollar project stolen by the mistress. Credit for her work reassigned. Bank accounts drained. Even Bella's art studio transformed into someone else's "study."

When her husband appeared on her sofa kissing his mistress while wearing Bella's nightgown, she coldly presented divorce papers with one devastating line: "The house? I've already sold it."

……

"I'm planning a romantic getaway with Jenny. You'll handle the company," said my husband, David Ramirez, as he planned his week-long trip with his secretary, Jenny Martin. During that week, I completed the handover at work and submitted my resignation.

Five minutes later, I received an approval email from David.

"She should have resigned long ago. It's well-known how much Mr. Ramirez dislikes her."

"Although Bella is Mrs. Ramirez, it's undeniable that Mr. Ramirez prefers Jenny."

"I heard their getaway is to Hawaii. Sunshine, beaches, and bikinis—oh, it makes me envious."

"Poor Bella, not receiving her husband's love or even keeping her job."

As I packed up my belongings, my colleagues' malice and jealousy were blatantly audible.

They always enjoyed mocking and targeting me to show their loyalty to Jenny.

After all, everyone knew that my husband, David, preferred his "secretary" over "Mrs. Ramirez."

"I did resign, but I also secured a new position with a higher salary and double the benefits," I said calmly with a smile, watching their expressions change. "Sorry to disappoint you."

Ignoring their envious and resentful glances, I took all my personal items and left.

As I got on the elevator, David called.

I thought he finally realized I had resigned and was pondering how to sidestep the issue when he ordered without hesitation, "I've sent you the documents for the South District project. Handle them within forty minutes and send them back to me."

I almost laughed out loud.

He had no idea I had resigned.

Or rather, he never cared.

In David's eyes, I was his servant, not his wife.

I opened the file.

The South District project was initially mine, but then Jenny took an interest in its substantial profits.

She took the proposal I prepared, changed the cover page, and submitted it.

David indulged her actions without any objections and even asked me to polish the proposal again with Jenny’s name on it.

Whenever there were issues with the project, I was the one who got blamed and had to take responsibility.

My parents always said marriage required forbearance, so I kept making compromises. But what did I get in return? David’s betrayal.

He argued with me over Jenny.

He spent $300,000 for a "romantic night" with her while I had a fever of 104°F.

He asked me to give up a contract worth $100 million and then abandoned me on a snow-blocked road after signing it.

That should have made it clear that this marriage had already come to an end.

"I've already left," I replied calmly to David.

"Not in the office?" David's voice was full of accusation. "It's working hours, Bella. Even though you are 'Mrs. Ramirez,' you can't violate company policies."

"I know, but I've already—"

"I'll notify HR to deduct a day's salary as a penalty," he interrupted decisively.

On the other end of the phone, Jenny interjected softly, "Don't be like that, David. Maybe Bella has personal matters. Let me handle it for her."

"Baby, you were so tired last night. You should rest today." David’s voice was unfamiliarly tender.

Jenny demurred, "I can manage it, really."

"Don't push yourself. Bella isn’t as diligent as you," he chuckled lightly. "She usually lounges around the office like a princess."

I clenched the steering wheel tightly.

Jenny cooed to David in a flirtatious tone. "I just can't bear to see Bella too stressed. She has a lot of work."

"She is 'Mrs. Ramirez'. These are her responsibilities."

Even though I was calm, my heart still ached at David’s hurtful words.

Just because I was "Mrs. Ramirez," did that mean my efforts and contributions could be easily ignored?

Ridiculous.

My silence made David think I agreed. He softened his tone. "Be good, Bella. You should know that I'm not just assigning you work. I'm grooming you. After all, you are 'Mrs. Ramirez'. You should feel more responsible for the company."

"You really should learn from Jenny. She works diligently until 3 AM every day. A woman both outstanding and hardworking is hard not to adore."

Jenny enjoyed David’s praise but humbly said, "Don't say that, David. Bella is no less capable than I am."

If there were less disdain in her tone, it might sound more convincing.

David didn’t care about these nuances. He laughed while embracing Jenny. "You're too modest. Nearly all profitable projects this year were completed by you."

They conveniently ignored one fact that Jenny’s projects this year were snatched from me.

And David didn’t mind using my achievements to pad Jenny’s resume. He didn’t think I would leave him over this since we had been married for seven years.

I scoffed coldly. Arguing further seemed pointless.

"Jenny and I have another engagement to attend." David commanded me, "Finish your work quickly, Bella."

Before I could respond, David hung up.

Three seconds after he hung up, my phone vibrated twice. Jenny had posted a new update on Instagram.

A photo of Jenny and David together appeared. The backdrop looked like a French restaurant during a romantic candlelit dinner. They were very close together, with Jenny deliberately showing off a diamond ring on her left middle finger.

I scrolled up and saw Jenny’s post from 3 AM yesterday. It looked like a bar lounge, where a drunken David was kissing Jenny in dim lighting.

So this was their so-called "working hard until 3 AM"?

Honestly, I was used to it by now. Why bother arguing? David never felt remorse or regret. He'd only accuse me of being jealous and petty, then start giving me the silent treatment.

Every time, I'd panic and end up making even greater concessions. When I looked back now, that groveling version of myself seemed utterly pathetic.

It was time I figured out what to do next—for my own sake.

Just as my car left the parking lot and merged onto the highway, a notification buzzed on my phone.

David transferred two million dollars from my account.