Chapter 7: Tangled Webs

I hired someone to follow Robert Carter for a while.

And what do you know—I uncovered another secret about the creep.

Even my girlfriend didn’t know this one.

Robert Carter actually kept a mistress on the side.

He’d rented a three-bedroom apartment in a luxury complex for her, and whenever he had time, he’d drive over to meet her in secret.

And that mistress wasn’t simple either—behind his back, she was hooking up with a personal trainer at the complex’s gym.

Well, well.

This tangled mess of relationships left me speechless.

Starting from the creep, who knows how many people are caught up in this web?

Thinking about my girlfriend, realizing I was just another sucker in this mess, my face turned grim.

My hatred for these shameless people only grew.

I gathered all sorts of evidence.

With some effort, I got all their contact info.

A few days later, my girlfriend happily told me she was going out of town for a master’s art exhibition.

I said I’d go with her.

She refused right away, explaining it was a school event with other classmates, and it wouldn’t be convenient for me to tag along.

I sneered inside.

Classmates, my ass. Isn’t it just you and that creep Robert Carter?

She thought I didn’t know she’d packed a few sets of sexy lingerie in her suitcase.

The day before they left, I used a new phone number I’d prepared to send a few texts to Robert Carter’s wife.

"Hey, do you really know Robert? You suffocate him. Only with me does he find real happiness."

"You should thank me—I’m the one who makes his life exciting."

"The birthday gifts he gave you? All leftovers I didn’t want~"

Sorry, original wife.

But I’m doing you a favor. Otherwise, one day you might not even know where you caught some disease from.

The next day, my girlfriend left with her suitcase, all excited—only to come back two hours later, face like thunder.

She slammed the door so hard the picture frames rattled. Her cheeks were blotchy, and she didn’t even take off her shoes before storming to the bedroom.

While she stormed in, slamming her keys on the entry table, I sat at the kitchen counter with a bowl of Lucky Charms, pretending not to notice. Outside, the weather had turned gray, threatening rain. I almost felt sorry for her—almost. She stomped past me, the suitcase dragging a little too hard behind her, and disappeared into the bedroom. I stifled a smirk, thinking: sometimes karma doesn’t wait for years, sometimes it just takes a single morning.