I trusted only what I could investigate; I didn’t need her subtle hints.
The following day, at the hospital’s medical conference, I had to give a speech as a shareholder.
My brother handed me the documents he had gathered discreetly.
As I turned the pages, my hands trembled.
Kristen had once attended our school’s comic convention, dressed as a cute, provocative maid.
That was when she had added George’s contact information.
Over the years, she continued sending revealing cosplay selfies, and George had occasionally responded with a like.
She had constantly boasted in their chats that she was a “lucky fertile woman,” someone who could easily conceive children.
During the time I was preparing to marry George, they even had a record of checking into a hotel together.
After the birth of Dwayne and Daniel, the twins, George had transferred fifty thousand dollars to Kristen every month.
Until half a month ago, when he brought her home, under the guise of a “maid.”
My mind spun with chaos, yet my voice remained eerily calm.
“Brother, is George currently speaking at the medical conference?”
“This conference, members of the Medical Association, directors and experts from the nation’s top fifty hospitals, all attending, right?”
“And it’s livestreamed too, isn’t it?”
Chase froze, eyes wide. “Yes, why are you asking?”
“To ruin the show.”
I spat the words and strode straight toward the venue.
Inside the conference hall, George sat proudly in the front row.
Beside him, Kristen wore a white coat, pretending to be a doctor, her posture flawless, her presence an affront.
Their fingers were entwined, and she leaned close, whispering into his ear. “George, you’re the greatest director. You’re my idol.”
Someone in the back gasped sharply, as if they had glimpsed a forbidden secret.
But George remained unflinching.
A faint smile curved his lips, brushing accidentally against hers.
“You’re very professional too. No one would guess you’re just pretending to be a doctor.”
Then his gaze snapped to me, standing in the shadows below the stage, eyes blazing with undisguised provocation.
I curved my lips into a smile and walked slowly onto the stage.
“Before the speech begins, let everyone enjoy Director Radcliffe’s ‘heroic deeds’ over the years.”
Without hesitation, I pressed play.
On the big screen, Kristen’s sultry cosplay photos began rolling.
Next came their chat records, hotel check-in logs, and transfer receipts, one after another.
Finally, the image froze on the two of them, sitting side by side, their smiles innocent only to those blind to the truth.
George slumped back into his chair, drained and pale, as if all the life had been sucked from him.
Kristen cried, her makeup ruined, yet a stubborn glimmer of pride lingered in her eyes.
