I clicked on a folder on Oliver's desktop titled "mine".

It was filled with photos of him and Charlotte. From their teenage years to their successful adult lives, they looked like the perfect couple.

I glanced at the timestamps. Almost every month over the years, they had been in contact. In each picture, Oliver looked at Charlotte with such tenderness, as if he couldn't bear to be apart from her.

I opened one of the photos randomly. The date indicated it was from five years ago, around the time Oliver and I had just begun dating.

In the picture, Oliver had bandages wrapped around him, faint traces of blood still visible.

Charlotte was carefully changing his gauze, their eyes locked on each other. Her gaze was filled with both tenderness and sorrow.

Meanwhile, Oliver's brows were relaxed in the photo, as if he were utterly pleased with her reaction.

I remembered that night so clea

Oliver glanced around nervously. "What are you doing here? What if Daphne sees us?" he whispered.

Charlotte chuckled softly and planted a kiss on his Adam's apple, "Relax, Oliver. Daphne won't be back anytime soon.

"She hates that lipstick shade. She likely believes you don't care for her, and that's why she walked away. Deep down, she's waiting for you to come after her."

Oliver frowned but said nothing.

Charlotte seemed to read his thoughts perfectly. She smiled and said, "Just buy her something she likes later. She's easy to please, anyway."

Her words seemed to melt away the tension etched on Oliver's face.

Ignoring the stares of the people nearby, he leaned down and kissed her as they made their way toward the villa.

"Just this once. Don't show up here again. I'll have to find a way to grease some palms later. Otherwise, Daphne's bound to make a scene."

I sat in my car, pieci

"Baby, I'm so sorry for leaving you alone on our wedding night. It's all my fault.

"But you know how things are at work. I really had no choice but to handle it," Oliver Rothwell sighed, as though missing our wedding night was the biggest regret of his life.

I gave him a gentle smile, the same one I always wore. "It's okay. Work comes first, after all."

Oliver spoke in a deep voice, a pout tugging at his lips, "Oh, you're so understanding. Now I feel even worse."

If this were before, I would've likely comforted him and reassured him not to worry about me.

But now, all I could feel was how ridiculous the whole situation was. In just a little while, he wouldn't be thinking about me at all.

On the other end of the line, I heard the soft tapping of fingers on a desk. I knew exactly what it was. Oliver was sending a Morse code message.

"Mission accomplished."

The taps lacked any tone, yet I could almost sense the pride behind them.

Soon after, a faint reply came through, "You're amazing, Oliver. With just a few words and you had Daphne completely fooled."

"She's just too easy to deceive," Oliver responded.

I let out a bitter laugh. Indeed, I was the fool in all of this. How else could I have let Oliver deceive me for five long years?

It all started the day he introduced me to his childhood sweetheart, Charlotte Vandenberg.

At our very first dinner together, she insisted on sitting next to Oliver. She carefully served him food, acting like I wasn't even there.

Throughout the evening, she reminisced about how close they once were. With every passing moment, her actions grew more audacious, each gesture feeling like a deliberate provocation aimed directly at me.

But before I could even get angry, Oliver slammed the table in frustration. Without a word, he took my hand and pulled me away.

He later told me he was going back to confront Charlotte's parents. He was determined to call them out and make them hold her accountable.

Charlotte's behavior changed for the better following that incident.

I used to believe Oliver loved me, but it wasn't until much later that I discovered he and Charlotte had been secretly sending hidden signals to each other all along.

Using coded messages, they quietly communicated their love for each other.

That night, Oliver never confronted Charlotte's parents like he said. Instead, he stayed with Charlotte.

If I hadn't stumbled upon the fact that Charlotte had once worked in emergency communications and knew Morse code, I probably would still be completely in the dark.

I didn't want to confront Oliver. After a brief exchange, I hung up.

Almost immediately, my phone buzzed with an Instagram notification. Charlotte had just posted a photo to her story.

It showed a candlelit dinner. Two plates of steak sat neatly on the table. The atmosphere was undeniably intimate.

But what grabbed my attention was a familiar hand in the corner of the frame. It was Oliver's. On his ring finger shone the wedding band we had exchanged earlier that very day.

A surge of bitterness hit me like a punch to the chest.

I instinctively tried to close the app but accidentally double-tapped the photo. I scrambled to unlike it, but the damage had already been done.

All of a sudden, Charlotte messaged me, "Hey Daphne, it's your wedding day today. I'm honestly surprised you had time to like my post.

"Oliver's usually so clingy. How could he just leave you there fiddling with your phone? Wait, could it be that you're the only one at home?"

I used to think Charlotte was angry because Oliver was out of her reach, but now I saw it for what it really was. She was mocking me because he was already hers.

Despite Oliver's warning to keep things secret, she was determined to make their relationship known to me.

I didn't reply to her provocations. Assuming she'd gotten under my skin, Charlotte grew even more bold and started posting more photos.

Each one included subtle signs that Oliver was with her.

I knew exactly what Charlotte was trying to do. She wanted me to find out, break down, and get jealous.

But sadly for her, she was about to be sorely disappointed.

I saved the photos and forwarded them to my lawyer, asking if they could be used as evidence.

My lawyer replied quickly, "These photos have timestamps, so technically, they can be used as evidence. 

"However, if your goal is to strip Mr. Rothwell of everything, this alone won't suffice. You'll need proof of a significant fault on his part, either emotionally or financially.

"But Ms. McIntyre… you and Mr. Rothwell just got married. Are you sure you want to go through with something this drastic?" There was a slight hesitation in my lawyer's voice.

I let out a soft chuckle.

How was this drastic? Compared to the schemes Oliver and Charlotte had been plotting, I'd say I was already showing mercy.

Ever since I got engaged to Oliver, McIntyre Group had been on a steady decline. My parents endured sleepless nights, their hair turning white from the constant stress.

Every time, Oliver would reassure them, telling them not to worry. He even introduced them to supposedly trustworthy business partners.

My parents trusted his sincerity. It wasn't until recently that I discovered the truth.

The Rothwell family had been planning to take over McIntyre Group. Even my marriage to Oliver was just another move in their game.

If I hadn't uncovered it in time, I would've likely lost everything right after our wedding.

"Just follow my instructions," I told my lawyer. "And don't tell my parents anything."

I didn't want them to worry.

After all, I was the one who had chosen to be with Oliver. Ending our marriage was something I had to take responsibility for.

After hanging up, I walked straight to the study.

Oliver had a custom yoga room built for me in the villa, along with a swimming pool. He gave me all the freedom I could ever want.

But the one place he always kept strictly off-limits was the study. He always claimed he didn't want anyone disturbing him there.

Still, I remembered him once mentioning that he and Charlotte had spent a night together in that very room. So, in reality, he just didn't want me getting in the way.

I sneered to myself.

At the study's keypad lock, I entered the date of his and Charlotte's anniversary. With a soft click, the door unlocked.

Maybe I had grown accustomed to the feeling of betrayal. My heart remained calm, devoid of any emotion.

The shock I once felt when I saw Oliver declaring his love for Charlotte in front of me was long gone. Back then, he had even secretly tapped out a Morse code message to set up a private meeting with her.

After pushing open the door and walking in, I turned on Oliver's computer.

Even though I had prepared myself, my fingers still shook when I saw the files on his desktop.


I clicked on a folder on Oliver's desktop titled "mine".

It was filled with photos of him and Charlotte. From their teenage years to their successful adult lives, they looked like the perfect couple.

I glanced at the timestamps. Almost every month over the years, they had been in contact. In each picture, Oliver looked at Charlotte with such tenderness, as if he couldn't bear to be apart from her.

I opened one of the photos randomly. The date indicated it was from five years ago, around the time Oliver and I had just begun dating.

In the picture, Oliver had bandages wrapped around him, faint traces of blood still visible.

Charlotte was carefully changing his gauze, their eyes locked on each other. Her gaze was filled with both tenderness and sorrow.

Meanwhile, Oliver's brows were relaxed in the photo, as if he were utterly pleased with her reaction.

I remembered that night so clearly.

I had been in danger, and Oliver had shielded me without hesitation, taking a knife meant for 

Chapter 2