My Husband Sold Videos of Our Daughter

On my day off, I saw a colleague in the work chat complaining again:

Being a content moderator for adult material really isn't a job for human beings.

This is the 999th time I've come across this disgusting man's videos of secretly filming his fully naked daughter.

The group chat exploded instantly.

"Is the mother dead or something? Why isn't she doing anything about this!"

I couldn't help but frown, thinking of my own ten-year-old daughter, Mia. My husband, Derek, always treasured her like a fragile jewel, treating her with the utmost care and affection.

Soon after, my colleague sent several 60-second voice messages. I could feel her fury even through the screen.

"This old pervert actually reported me, saying I'm interfering with his income!"

I clicked on the recording she sent. A man's roar came through:

"What's wrong with me filming my own daughter? Without me, she'd still be queuing up in the underworld waiting to be reincarnated!"

"She is just a useless girl!"

"I'm not asking anyone to touch her or sleep with her. Posting a few videos won't kill her! Mind your own business!"

"You block one video, I'll post another. I still have 99 videos of my daughter from different angles in my album!"

The blood drained from my face instantly. This voice sounded eerily similar to my doting husband's!

I forced myself to stay calm and turned to my daughter, who was sitting on the couch watching TV. "Mia, tell Mommy secretly---have you been playing any photo games with Daddy lately?"

Mia pouted, huffing indignantly. "Daddy's been too busy playing on his phone. He hasn't played with me in forever!"

I asked, puzzled, "Doesn't Daddy take you swimming every time? Don't you two swim together?"

"No, Daddy says he doesn't know how to swim. He always has the instructor teach me. He even found me a gentle female teacher!"

Hearing this, I let out a sigh of relief. It must have been a voice modulator making the voices sound similar.

Just as I was about to ask Mia more questions, my phone buzzed with a private message from my colleague.

"Madison, check out the video in the group chat!"

I quickly opened the group chat. The colleague who'd been venting had posted the videos there.

Looking at the thumbnail showing the little girl's dress, my heart skipped a beat.

Mia had the exact same dress.

I took a deep breath and clicked on the video.

The footage showed a little girl using the bathroom. From the environment, it appeared to be a public restroom.

But from the filming angle, it clearly wasn't a hidden camera shot---it was filmed from directly in front of the little girl.

The video was blurry and shaky, but it only captured the little girl using the toilet, nothing else.

Besides, I bought Mia's clothes from mainstream brands---the chances of someone else having the same outfit were high.

I was about to close it when I suddenly noticed a red butterfly birthmark on the back of the little girl's hand as she lifted her dress.

My breath caught, and my phone nearly slipped from my hands. This birthmark was identical to the one on Mia's hand.

A chill shot up from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. My breathing became labored.

I suddenly remembered Derek's recent odd behavior. He used to be completely against enrolling Mia in any extracurricular activities.

He said he just wanted her to enjoy a happy childhood without exhausting her.

But a month ago, he suddenly enrolled her in swimming lessons.

I'd asked him why at the time, and he'd only said a friend had just opened a swimming center with a discount, and he was doing the friend a favor.

Thinking back to when Mia first excitedly told me about the swimming center's blue and white bathroom decorated with jellyfish, I suddenly felt restless.

With trembling hands, I opened my messaging app and messaged Derek. Taking a deep breath, I tried to sound casual: "Derek, where is your friend's swimming center? My colleague's son wants to learn swimming, so she asked me to find out."

He replied almost instantly: "I'll send you the location. Mention my name for a discount!"

"Thanks!" I immediately took Mia and hailed a cab to the swimming center.

Seeing the lively scene inside, I exhaled in relief.

But as soon as I entered, something felt off. Most of the people here were fathers with their daughters---very few other women.

As I stood there in a daze, a man actually patted Mia on the bottom.

"Mia, you're late! That means you'll have to be punished!"

I swept Mia into my arms, my face darkening. "Who are you? Don't you know that's harassment!"

Seeing my expression, the man quickly bent down to apologize. "I'm so sorry. I'm the father of Mia's good friend Emma. I'm used to joking around with Emma, and I wasn't thinking. I apologize!"

"You're here to bring Mia to her swimming lesson, right? You should hurry inside---the instructor has already started class."

I looked down at Mia. "Sweetie, is what he's saying true?"

Mia nodded. "Yes, Mr. Harris is Emma's dad. Mommy, can I skip class today? I want to go get a hamburger."

Seeing that Mia seemed fine, I stroked her head. "Okay, after Mommy asks about something, I'll take you for hamburgers."

I ignored the man beside me and walked straight to the front desk. "My daughter lost her silver bracelet somewhere. Could you please help me check the security footage?"

The receptionist readily pulled up the surveillance video for me. In the footage, when Mia was changing clothes and using the bathroom, Derek stood outside the door waiting. He never went in.

I'd been married to Derek for ten years. After five failed IVF attempts, we finally had Mia.

Derek usually watched over Mia more carefully than his own eyes. You could say he was afraid she'd fly away if he held her in his hands, or melt if he kept her in his mouth.

Even when male relatives in the family sneaked a kiss on Mia's cheek, he'd get angry.

He said there should be boundaries between males and females, and he wanted to establish proper gender awareness for the child.

Therefore, bathing and dressing Mia had always been my responsibility.

Sometimes, when I came home late and asked him to help bathe Mia, he would righteously refuse.

To think he would secretly film Mia---I didn't believe it. But all the signs seemed to point to something wrong with him.

I returned home filled with worry. As soon as I pushed open the door, Derek rushed over.

"It's so late---why did you take Mia outside? It's not safe!"

"Next time you want to go out at night, you must take me with you."

"I can't let my precious baby get hurt in any way."

Seeing his anxious expression, warmth flooded my heart, and the doubts and unease from earlier dissipated significantly.

Mia twirled around happily in the Elsa princess dress he'd bought her, constantly asking me if she looked pretty.

I agreed with Mia, then cautiously broached the subject with Derek.

"Derek, my colleague said she's been finding a lot of videos of young girls being secretly filmed lately. What kind of person do you think could do something like that?"

"Don't these people have daughters of their own?"

Unexpectedly, Derek's face darkened. "People like that should be dragged out and shot!"

"If anyone dared to secretly film my daughter, I'd beat them until their own mother wouldn't recognize them!"

With that, he pulled Mia close and instructed her, "Mia, you must never let anyone touch the areas covered by your underwear and clothes, understand? Not even Daddy!"

"Madison, you need to be careful too. Don't take Mia out at night anymore! Who knows if those people might be lurking on the streets?"

Looking at him, I felt full of guilt. Perhaps I shouldn't have suspected him.

After I'd put Mia to bed, I returned to our room to find Derek showering, his phone casually left on the table.

Remembering the voice message I'd heard today, I couldn't resist secretly picking up his phone to look through it.

My messaging app, chat history, payment records, photo albums---I even carefully went through his hidden private space.

Clean. Surprisingly clean.

His chat history with friends was full of "Look how sweet my daughter is," "Look how well-behaved my daughter is," "You're just jealous I have a daughter and you don't." Even when a friend suggested arranging a childhood engagement, Derek tore into him viciously.

Had I really been overthinking this? I began to question my own paranoia.

Perhaps the girl in the video just happened to have the same birthmark. After all, there were too many coincidences in this world.

And the clothing and the swimming center's decor didn't prove anything either.

I put the phone back in its original position and let out a long breath, feeling much lighter.

Guilt washed over me like a tide. I began to reflect on my distrust of him.

For the next week, I continued to let Derek take Mia to swimming lessons as usual.

I stayed home preparing dinner for them, making Derek's favorite braised pork ribs.

But that day, while washing Mia's pants, I discovered a yellowish stain with a faint fishy smell.

My heart dropped, and unease surged through me once more.

That night, after Derek fell asleep, I snuck out like a thief and took his phone.

I suddenly remembered that when he first bought this phone, he'd bragged to me about it.

"Madison, this phone can switch systems and log into different accounts. That way no one can interrupt our father-daughter time."

With trembling hands, I entered the password he'd told me back then. The screen displayed "Incorrect Password!"

I tried again with my birthday, his birthday, our wedding anniversary---none of them worked.

Finally, I entered Mia's birth date, and the phone screen revealed a completely different interface.

A message popped up.

"Freshly available little abalone, fifty per session."

My head buzzed, and a chill shot from the soles of my feet to the top of my head.

With shaking hands, I clicked on a group chat called "Seafood Should Be Eaten Fresh."

What greeted my eyes were auctions of different categories of "seafood."

But the photos being posted were intimate pictures of young girls of various ages.

What struck me like a thunderbolt was that Derek seemed to be a regular member.

I kept scrolling up and suddenly found the video my colleague had forwarded to our group chat.

The person who posted it was Derek!

I collapsed onto the sofa, my mind going blank.

After quite a while, I finally recovered.

I opened the photo album and found it densely packed with videos of Mia from various angles.

My vision went dark, and I nearly fainted.

Fury erupted like a volcano. I wanted to charge into the bedroom immediately, wake Derek up, confront him, tear him apart!

But I quickly calmed down. No, I couldn't alert him.

If he'd been able to hide this from me for so long, he must have kept some insurance.

I needed to gather solid evidence before he'd have nothing to say!

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down and think about my next move.

I used my phone to photograph the chat records and transfer records, then put his phone back. After that, I contacted a private investigator to investigate Derek.

The next morning, as soon as Derek left the house, I received materials from the private investigator.

Unexpectedly, Derek had joined this organization even before Mia was born.

At first, he only watched videos posted by others. Later, he actually started selling videos of Mia.

Looking at the dense consumption records all belonging to Derek, my heart felt like it was being cut with knives---agonizing pain followed by extreme nausea.

Starting a month ago, they'd actually developed offline activities. The location was the swimming center where Mia had enrolled.

No wonder Derek went out for team building every week, lying to me that it was a company gathering inconvenient for family members. How laughable.

The so-called gathering was actually a group of them getting together to auction off videos they'd secretly filmed.

These scum---I had to make them pay!