I had to wait for the perfect moment to ruin them both completely. With that thought, I pressed down the disgust in my chest and forced a calm smile.
“Maybe I really saw it wrong. Alright, I’m fine now. Go back to work.”
Vincent studied my face closely. Believing I was pacified, he finally let out a breath, turned, and walked back into the company.
The moment his back disappeared, the smile on my face froze.
That night, as expected, Vincent was “working late” again. I opened Desiree’s side account and saw her newest post.
“Some old women really have no self-awareness, clinging to my boyfriend, it’s hilarious. Luckily, my boyfriend only loves me. To prove it, he gave me a limited-edition yacht for Valentine's Day! Everyone, come watch the yacht’s first launch!”
The photo showed her holding a huge bouquet of red roses, standing in front of a white yacht; it was clearly photoshopped.
The instant my eyes landed on that yacht, my anger exploded.
That yacht was the gift my dad gave me and Vincent for our sixth wedding anniversary.
It was worth tens of millions, with the custom build alone taking a full year.
Even though I hadn’t used it yet, I always kept it carefully maintained at the private dock.
And Vincent, this live-in freeloader, dared to use my yacht to please his mistress?
Valentine’s Day, huh? I would see with my own eyes what tricks these two scumbags were playing.
On Valentine’s Day, I called my best friend Leighton, and together we went straight to the private dock.
From a distance, I saw my white yacht, gaudily dressed up with ribbons and heart-shaped balloons.
But something felt wrong, the veteran craftsmen my dad had hired at high wages to maintain the yacht were nowhere to be seen.
I pulled aside a familiar attendant and asked, “Where did the people who used to maintain the yacht go?”
The attendant looked shocked to see me.
“They were all dismissed by Vincent. He said you were going abroad for medical care, and that the yacht had been handed over to him to manage.”
Just then, Vincent called, his voice smooth and oddly gentle.
“Wife, happy Valentine’s Day! Did you get the roses? I’m sorry, but I have an important client today and really can’t get out of it. I can’t spend the evening with you, so why don’t you go grab something nice with your friend? I’ll reimburse you.”
I glanced at the yacht where Vincent stood holding Desiree by the waist, and a sneer touched my lips.
“Alright, work is important. Go ahead.”
Fearing I might say more, he hung up at once.
Leighton’s anger flared, and she stomped.
“Jasmine, can you tolerate this? That bastard is using your yacht and your money to throw a party for his mistress! I’m going to tear him apart right now!”
I gripped her arm to hold her back.
“Don’t rush. Look at Desiree’s show; there are so many guests and her bragging posts. Do you think she’s just celebrating a holiday?”
Leighton frowned. “You mean…”
“Wait. She’s definitely planning something big.”
We found a quiet corner and sat down, watching and waiting.
Sure enough, as the party reached its peak, Desiree suddenly took the microphone and sweetly pulled Vincent to the center.
She wore a dazzling couture gown, her makeup flawless, and clung to him with the polished airs of a hostess.
“Thank you, everyone, for coming to this yacht party. Today marks its first launch, and to celebrate, all the drinks are on Vincent!”
At once, cheers and flattery filled the air.
Leighton rolled her eyes, her voice sharp with disgust.
“Using your money to play generously, what a shameless bitch!”
