His Other Family

My CEO husband loved bringing his friends home for dinner. He said it made our house feel more like a home.
As they surveyed the feast I’d prepared, one of his buddies grinned.
“You’ve got a good one, boss. A real first lady. Classy.”
I kept my expression neutral, offering a lighthearted jab in return. “Oh? Does that mean there’s a less classy second lady somewhere?”
The men froze, a flash of panic in their eyes. But my husband, Joseph Anders, just laughed and slung an arm around my shoulders.
“Don’t listen to these idiots. Besides you, who else in this world could possibly be my wife?”
I smiled back at his flawless performance.
Then, as I turned to leave the room, I dialed a number.
“Henry,” I said quietly, “Joseph is cheating. It’s time to burn him to the ground.”

1
My brother was silent for a long three seconds. “Ava, are you sure? Joseph wouldn’t…”
I twisted the wedding band off my finger, the diamond digging into my palm. “For ten years, every single one of his cufflinks has been custom-made for him in Italy by my design.”
“Today, he’s wearing a cheap plastic flower,” I said, my voice flat. “Does that sound like a mistake to you?”
“You know I don’t tolerate betrayal. Release everything you have on him. And get me the best divorce lawyer you can find.”
“Done,” Henry said, his voice tight with fury.
Thirty minutes later, an encrypted file appeared on my phone.
The first photo was of a young woman in a crisp white shirt, smiling radiantly as she clung to a man’s arm. On the wrist peeking out from the cuff was a wolf’s head tattoo—an exact match to Joseph’s.
I didn’t hesitate. I drove straight to his office.
A few minutes later, a young woman with long, straight black hair and wearing a simple white dress hurried out to meet me. Her name tag read Kayla Summers.
The moment she saw me, the color drained from her face. She instinctively hid her hands behind her back. But not before I saw it: the bespoke Swiss watch on her wrist.
Last year, for my birthday, a charge had appeared on our shared account from a jeweler in Switzerland. A three-hundred-thousand-dollar watch, and a five-thousand-dollar necklace.
The necklace was nestled safely in my jewelry box at home.
The watch was on her wrist.
A humorless laugh escaped my lips. “Your husband has remarkably similar taste to mine, Miss Summers. Even down to the design of a custom-made watch.”
Kayla trembled, her lips parting and closing several times before she stammered, “Oh… I guess… men just have similar tastes.” Her knuckles were white where she gripped the fabric of her dress.
“Alright, you can drop the act,” I said, my voice sharp. “You’re the ‘second lady’ they were talking about, aren’t you?”
My directness made her flinch. She looked like she was about to fall apart. “You’ve misunderstood! Mr. Anders just… he had a low blood sugar episode, and I helped him. That’s all. His friends were just joking. They said I was very attentive. I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding.”
She punctuated her apology with a dramatic, ninety-degree bow. She played the part of the innocent, wronged victim perfectly. If I hadn’t already seen the evidence of her calculated seduction, I might have even believed her.
Two weeks ago, she had posted a video online. A man, seen from the back, was swiping a credit card at a Porsche dealership. Her caption read: A man’s love is wherever his money is.
At that exact moment, I had been at home, delirious with a fever so high I’d passed out. I’d called Joseph, begging him to take me to the hospital. He’d sounded panicked for a second, but then his voice became strained, as if he were trying to suppress something. “Honey, I’ll have the housekeeper take you. I’m in the middle of something urgent here.”
An hour later, I was being treated for pneumonia in the emergency room. Meanwhile, she posted a photo of herself reclining in a new car, a man’s chiseled, six-pack abs in the foreground, dotted with tell-tale red marks. Her caption: This new car and you will forever bear my mark.
When Joseph finally arrived at the hospital, his shirt was still unbuttoned. He had rushed to my bedside, his eyes red. At the time, in my naivety, I thought he was worried about me. Now I knew it was just the guilt of a man fresh from his lover’s bed.
A wave of nausea washed over me. This was the woman he had betrayed me for.
I couldn’t stand to look at her pathetic, doe-eyed expression any longer. I turned and walked away.
But as soon as I got to my car, my phone rang. It was Joseph.
The moment I answered, his voice was laced with anxiety. “What were you doing at the office?”

2
“Why?” I started the car, my voice calm. “I was just in the area for a meeting. Is there something you were afraid I’d see?”
He clearly hadn’t expected that. His breath hitched. After a few seconds of silence, his tone softened into the familiar, cajoling purr he always used to win me over.
“Honey, what are you talking about? I have nothing to hide. The office is just a mess, that’s all. If I’d known you were coming, I would have had it cleaned up.”
He added, with a convincing laugh, “Besides, you know I would never betray you. You can check anything you want.”
I paused. So, Kayla hadn’t told him I’d confronted her.
I scrolled through the evidence my brother had sent as he continued his performance. Three gigabytes of files, a detailed chronicle of his affair.
Last Valentine’s Day, he had claimed to be on a business trip overseas where he couldn’t call. In reality, he and Kayla were in the Arctic, watching the Northern Lights.
When my father was on his deathbed, I had called Joseph thirty times. He hadn’t answered a single one. He was at Kayla’s birthday party.
“I believe you,” I said smoothly. “But what about the watch?”
He seemed relieved that I’d brought it up. He lowered his voice, creating an illusion of intimacy. “Oh, that. I had a dizzy spell at the office, and Kayla happened to be there. She took me to the hospital.”
He paused for effect. “She stayed with me all night. The watch was just a thank-you gift. I must have forgotten to mention it.”
Forgotten. Right. He must have also forgotten to mention the three nights they’d spent in the penthouse suite of the hotel attached to the hospital.
I suppressed a bitter laugh. “She is attentive, isn’t she? She even washed and ironed the black shirt you were wearing that day and had it sent back the next morning.”
There was a distinct pause on his end, a missed beat in his breathing, before he chuckled again. “Yeah, she’s a thoughtful girl. You see? You’re always so suspicious. You know you’re the only one for me.”
His voice was a silken whisper. “As soon as this project is over, I’ll take you to the Maldives. Just the two of us. How does that sound?”
His tenderness had once been my weakness. Now, it just made my stomach turn.
“Sounds wonderful,” I said, my voice as flat and distant as the city lights blurring past my window. “But you should focus on your work for now. Don’t let me distract you.”
“Nothing is more important than you,” he insisted, his tone thick with a desperate sincerity that only made my heart grow colder.
It wasn't just the betrayal that hurt. It was the fact that they had been playing me for a fool for so long, right under my nose.
My grip on the steering wheel tightened. I fought the urge to drive straight to him and expose everything. Not yet. I wanted to hear him admit it himself. Then, I would ruin them both.
After a few more empty promises, I hung up. A moment later, Kayla’s social media pinged with a new post. It was a video of her in an elaborate, diamond-encrusted wedding gown, a triumphant smile lighting up her face.
Her caption read: Another mistress tried to cause trouble today, but my man put her in her place. He’s finally going to make me his wife to make up for it!
The video continued. I mentioned I wanted a castle wedding, so he bought me a whole castle! The camera panned casually over a deed of ownership. And all these vineyards! He wants me to manage them! Can you believe it? Little old me! But he promised he’d come with me to establish my authority, so people won’t take advantage of me!
I saw my own name, written in elegant French script, on the deed in the video. My blood went from cold to boiling in a second.

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