Chapter 2 - The Six-Day Deception
When Liam walked through our front door two hours later, he was carrying a bouquet of expensive red roses. He stepped into the kitchen with a practiced, casual smile, as if he hadn't spent the afternoon telling his mistress that he hated me and intended to throw us away.
"Hey, babe," he whispered, leaning down to press a warm, artificial kiss against my forehead. "Missed my girls."
I looked up into his hazel eyes—the same eyes I had trusted for five years, the man who had promised my father he would protect us forever. He smiled so naturally that for a terrifying fraction of a second, my exhausted brain tried to convince me that the phone call was a hallucination, a cruel trick of sleep deprivation.
Almost.
But the bitter echo of his words remained locked in my mind. Of course I hate her. I’ll divorce her, and then I’ll marry you.
For the next six agonizing days, I played the part of the devoted, exhausted young mother. I said nothing. I didn't interrogate him, I didn't check his computer, and I didn't throw his fake roses in the trash. Instead, I watched him with cold, clinical clarity. I watched him carry his phone into the bathroom like it was a classified government document. I watched him change his phone passcode while he thought I was changing Hailey’s diaper. I watched his "late meetings" multiply, and I watched him spray on the exact same expensive designer cologne I had bought him for our birthday two years prior—cologne meant for me, now being worn for another woman.
He thought I was too distracted by midnight feedings and postpartum recovery to notice the shift in his universe. That was his fatal error.
I wasn't looking for cheap revenge or a messy shouting match. I was hunting for concrete, unarguable truth. By the fifth night, after downloading his phone backups through our shared cloud storage while he slept, I discovered the real reason behind his sudden desire to discard us.
It wasn't just an office affair.
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The woman was Victoria Vance, the daughter of a billionaire real estate mogul. And Liam wasn't just working a corporate job; he had secretly established a shadow shell corporation using marital assets to embezzle funds from my family's estate, positioning himself to file for a rapid, one-sided divorce that would leave me penniless and stripped of custody.
When our second wedding anniversary arrived on the sixth day, I didn't cry. I booked a private catered dinner at our house, and I personally invited both of our families—alongside a very special guest list of corporate auditors and legal counsel.
