Wife‘s Ultimate Payback

After giving birth, I opened the shared album to back up my daughter's daily moments to iCloud.

By accident, I shared it to Ethan Carter's private files. A man's voice played in a video: She's a fool. Thinks having a baby will tie me down. Little does she know, I only married her for her family's money.

A woman's voice giggled teasingly, "That house you gave her? The marriage certificate and property deed better have my name on them."

I sat frozen, digging out the forged marriage certificate. A sharp, twisting pain seized my chest.

I called Ethan immediately.

"Who visited the delivery room when I was giving birth?"

His breath hitched audibly. Then, coldly: "What nonsense are you listening to now? Can't you trust our marriage for once?"

I snorted, hitting play on the recording.

"Then explain. Who is this woman?"

...

Ethan rushed home moments later.

Sweat dripped down his temples, dampening his hair. I watched him calmly, giving him one last chance.

"Elara, it's all a misunderstanding! Listen carefullythat's just Chris and his girlfriend in the video! His wife just had a baby too, and he's already cheating, bringing his fling into your delivery room!"

He finished and pulled me into a tight hug.

"I know you have postpartum depression. You're not thinking straight."

"Men like that? I'm cutting him off. Won't risk you misunderstanding again and getting upset."

My heart plummeted. He was lying.

Ethan, thinking I hadn't caught on, sighed with relief. "Let me take you and the baby to the Skyview Restaurant tonight. My apology."

I opened the passenger door. Pink heart-shaped decals stung my eyes.

[YY's Cute Seat]

Ethan froze, an awkward smile twisting his lips. "Elara, I had this custom-made for you! Like it?"

But I remembered. He never let me put stickers on his car.

I stayed silent. Instead, I sent the video to my private investigator.

[Run a voice analysis. Find out which woman around Ethan Carter has 'Y' in her name.]

He thought a baby would trap me? Dead wrong.

Once I had proof, I'd kick him out and make him cough up every cent he'd siphoned from us.

The car sped down the highway. A Ferrari swerved from the side. Ethan slammed the brakes hard. We lurched forward.

His burner phone flew out from under the seat.

He stared intently at the woman in the Ferrari, his expression unreadable.

Amid the chaos, I snatched the burner phone and slipped it into my bag.

I was distracted all through dinner.

Until scalding soup splashed onto my leg.

My skin burned red, already peeling. My daughter's arm blistered instantly. She wailed in pain.

"How could you be so clumsy?! So much space, and you manage to burn me and my child?!"

The waitress tearfully apologized. The diamond on her ring finger glittered brilliantly under the lights.

I froze.

That ring. Identical to mine. Even bigger.

A one-of-a-kind design from an international jeweler. How did a waitress get it?

Before I could process it, Ethan jumped up, yelling at her.

Then he turned to me, his voice dripping with concern. "Sweetheart, does it hurt? I'll get medicine for you and the baby!"

"You!" He snapped at the waitress. "Come with me! Find your manager!"

They left together. I frantically soothed my screaming daughter, heart aching at her red, blistered skin.

Ethan didn't return.

Finally, hotel staff brought burn ointment. Her cries subsided.

Remembering Ethan's retreating figure, I walked down the hallway on impulse.

In the innermost private room, two figures were entwined.

"I'm just jealous," a woman whined. "She gets to be seen with you in public, while I have to hide in the shadows like a dirty secret."

Ethan had his back to me, but the curve of his lips betrayed his pleasure.

"Be good. Call me 'husband'."

Ethan was really cheating!

I clamped a hand over my mouth, fighting nausea, and recorded the video.

I left with my daughter.

Soon, my PI sent the details.

Phoebe Summers. A hotel waitress. They'd met at the one-month celebration party for our daughter.

It had taken only eight months from their first meeting to him ending up in her bed.

"Ms. Shaw," the PI added, "I also found your marital status shows 'divorced' since the start of the year. Your signature is on the divorce papers."

I stared, my finger pressing the screen hard.

Early this year, Ethan said a crucial company project needed my signature.

I was drowning in morning sickness. I signed without looking.

He'd tricked me into signing divorce papers!

Betrayal washed over me.

I turned on the burner phone.

A passcode screen appeared.

I tried my birthday. Our anniversary. Our daughter's birthday. All wrong.

Finally, I tried Phoebe's birthday.

The screen unlocked. My heart twisted painfully.

I started screen recording, scrolling through his Facebook chats.

Phoebe was saved as 'Sweetheart Baby'. Their chats were intimate, full of pet names.

I remembered. Five days ago, I was burning with fever. He hurriedly got me medicine, then said he had to work late. He didn't come home until morning.

But that night, he'd been with Phoebe. He maxed out all his credit card to boost her sales commission!

Even the day I gave birth, he found time for a hotel rendezvous with her!

I scrolled up. Countless explicit videos.

My fingers trembled as I sent the videos to my phone.

Instantly, a notification popped up: Facebook logged in elsewhere.

Ethan called, his voice strained. "Elara, did you see a phone in my car? A client left it. I need it back urgently."

Still lying.

He sighed with relief when I said no.

"My father's birthday is the day after tomorrow. We're hosting all relatives and friends at home."

I nodded, a bitter smile touching my lips.

I made sure to invite all the Carter family. I also hired extra staff for the event, specifically requesting attendants from that hotel.

The more witnesses, the better.

Ethan saw the staff list, tapping it thoughtfully, a strange smile on his face.

"Honey, you're so thorough. Why not bring them all over tomorrow for training? Avoid any mistakes?"

I agreed readily.

The next morning, Ethan arrived with Phoebe and three other women.

The giant diamond on Phoebe's finger screamed ambition.

Phoebe was clumsy. Smashed a crystal vase. "Accidentally" spilled soup on me.

After repeated "accidents," Ethan pulled her into a room for a "talk."

These talks lasted at least thirty minutes.

I quietly opened my phone, and sent clips of their escapades to my lawyer.

[Help me timeline this. Draft the asset division papers.]

The message barely sent when Ethan emerged, looking thoroughly satisfied.

He was suddenly sweet to me.

"Elara, did you pick out gifts? My father loves RVs. Maybe get him a few different ones to really make him happy."

I nodded. His smile widened.

"Not just for him. I have a gift for you too."

"You'll both get everything you deserve on his birthday."

Ethan, completely misreading me, thought I genuinely had gifts for him. He was so excited he picked me up and spun me around.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Phoebe clench her fists.

That night at home, Phoebe produced a pink remote control, pretending to be shy as she placed it in Ethan's hand.

A loud buzzing sound filled the air. Papers flew as Ethan swept everything off his desk.

What he didn't know was that every corner of this villa was under surveillance, streaming live. I used the latest facial recognition tech to blur faces.

The video exploded online. Everyone knew someone was caught, just not who. Perfect anonymity but maximum scandal.

I quietly contacted influencers to ensure the video reached an even wider audience .

They went at it all night.

At dawn, I packed my bags. Shipped everything to my old apartment.

Ethan burst into the room, his voice frantic as he saw the emptiness.

"Elara! Why is all your stuff gone? And the baby? I haven't seen her since last night!"

Remembering my daughter's blistered arm, I coldly pulled my hands free.

"Ethan. That night. You said you were getting me medicine. Why didn't I see you all night?"

He swallowed hard. "Elara, I was so angry! I punished that waitress severely! By the time I got back, you were gone!"

"You packed your things... you're mad at me, right? Once my father's birthday is over, I'll take you and our daughter on a trip. Okay?"

He wasn't repentant.

He was scared of divorce. Losing his cash cow.

I looked at him coldly, my eyes empty.

"Ethan. You know I don't tolerate betrayal."

"Last chance. Tell me the truth. Is there anything else you're hiding?"

He stopped blinking.

Finally, he forced a dry smile. "Elara, your postpartum depression is acting up again, isn't it? Stop overthinking. I'll take you out to relax once things settle down."

As he spoke, his broad hand came to rest on my hair. I could see the fresh love bite on his neck.

You had your chance.

I claimed a headache, needing rest, and kicked Ethan out.

I sent video clips to Phoebe's parents and friends.

Thirty minutes later, the door crashed open. Phoebe stormed in, furious, her voice a low hiss.

"Elara Shaw! You heartless bitch! Now my whole family knows! Happy?!"

But this was just the beginning. Not nearly enough.

"You deliberately burned my daughter. You destroyed my family. Phoebe Summers, you think I'll let you off easy?"

She lunged at me. Before her nails could graze me, bodyguards clamped a hand over her mouth and dragged her out.

The real show was just starting.

I was going to make sure their shame was witnessed by everyone who mattered.

Permanently.

Soon, the Carter relatives arrived at the villa.

Old Mr. Carter was the star of his birthday party. He warmly beckoned the younger family members to sit around him.

His gaze swept the room, landing on me.

"Elara, why aren't your parents here? Do they think so little of me that they can't be bothered to show up?"

When I married Ethan, my parents had reservations. They thought his family business was small potatoes, unworthy of ours.

But seeing how much I loved Ethan, they relented.

I forced a smile. "They're busy."

I couldn't let them witness this humiliation. My father's temper would have flipped the table.

My restraint only made the Carters bolder.

"Elara, not to criticize, but you've been so busy with the company all these years. You hardly contribute to the family."

"This family gathering, not inviting your parents is one thing. But not letting Grandpa see his granddaughter? That's just rude."

Ethan's face darkened.

He pulled me into a corner.

"Elara, get your parents here! Those measly hundred-thousand-dollar contracts aren't more important than my parents!"

He paused, his voice dropping low. "That waitress I brought yesterday... one's missing. Do you know where she went?"

Ethan had guts, daring to question me.

His grip on my wrist tightened painfully. I pushed him away just as Old Mr. Carter walked over, catching our conversation.

"Just a waitress. Why are you so worked up?"

Suddenly, entertainment reporters swarmed in. Once everyone was gathered, the room plunged into darkness. The Carters panicked.

"Elara! What are these reporters doing here?" Ethan paled, lunging for the remote. Bodyguards blocked him.

I press play.

"Everyone! Remember that steamy office video everyone wondered about?"

"Let me introduce the stars! My husband! Ethan Carter!"