Part 1Neighbor’s Daughter in My Bed

At three in the morning, I was jolted awake by a call from the building's management office.

When I opened my phone, I saw someone had mentioned me in the building's group chat.

" Apartment 1601, have you no shame? Making those noises every night at this hour, as if you want everyone to know you're having sex!"

"My daughter just started college, and now she's been corrupted by you."

"If you dare make those sounds again, I'll start a livestream and let everyone know how shameless you are!"

My downstairs neighbor kept hurling accusations at me, and other residents chimed in, saying they'd all been disturbed by my sounds.

But I wasn't even home right then!

Thinking my husband might be cheating, I quickly opened the bedroom surveillance camera.

The moment I saw the woman on the bed clearly, I laughed.

Wasn't this the college freshman daughter from downstairs?

After a week of back-to-back business trips, I was exhausted and just wanted to get home and crash.

At three in the morning, my driver had just merged onto the highway.

Lying in the back seat, I was woken by an unexpected call from property management.

I opened the homeowners' group and found Sharon complaining again—she lived in the unit below mine.

Ever since she moved in below us, she'd been complaining nonstop. Either our footsteps were too heavy and disturbing her rest, or we had too many guests and the elevator passed by her floor too frequently.

Big issues, small issues—she'd tagged me countless times.

Seeing her accusations this time were completely baseless, I hadn't planned on responding.

But even neighbors who usually stayed silent were speaking up.

"These things happen, we understand, but the noise is really too loud. It's definitely inappropriate. 1601, you should be more careful."

"This is a school district. Everyone has underage children. Yesterday my son asked me what those sounds were. It was really hard to explain."

Reading these messages, I was stunned.

If it were just Sharon hearing something, she might be deliberately causing trouble. But I had no conflicts with the other neighbors—they had no reason to slander me.

Perhaps they were mistaking sounds from another unit for mine.

With this thought, I posted screenshots of last night's business meeting records and my current location in the group.

"I really haven't been home these past few days. You must have the wrong person."

After my explanation, the group suddenly went silent.

Five minutes later, Sharon sent a mocking voice message.

"I put my ear to the door and listened. The sounds are definitely coming from your place. If it's not you, then who?"

My heart sank as I immediately thought of my husband cheating.

But we'd known each other since high school, survived the difficult long-distance years during college, and built our business together to get where we are today.

After all these years together, I couldn't believe he would cheat.

Another neighbor tagged me in the group: "1601, we get it—your husband has stamina. But could you please stop making those sounds!"

With trembling hands, I replied in the group.

"I'm not home. Give me a moment to check the surveillance."

This was surveillance my best friend had convinced me to secretly install in the bedroom. She said with our substantial assets now and my frequent business trips, our marriage might eventually fall apart.

If my husband cheated first, maybe the surveillance would capture evidence.

At the time, I'd dismissed her concerns.

I never expected I'd actually see my husband with another woman on that surveillance footage!

The woman turned her head at just the right moment.

The instant I saw her, I was stunned.

Wasn't this Sharon's college freshman daughter?!