Part 2Neighbor’s Daughter in My Bed

I stared at the screen in disbelief, my body trembling uncontrollably.

In that moment, I knew for certain—the man who'd weathered hardships with me had cheated.

And I didn't even know when he and his mistress had gotten together.

Sharon's accusations continued flooding the group, but I was furious yet clear-headed enough to know that the priority now wasn't fighting back, but preserving evidence and catching them in the act!

Over the years, Marcus and I had accumulated joint assets worth tens of millions. Since he cheated first, I'd make sure to take as much as possible in the divorce.

I quickly contacted my best friend, who's a lawyer.

Learning of Marcus's infidelity, she cursed him several times before asking me, "How soon can you get home?"

I glanced up at my driver.

Having overheard my conversation with my friend, he'd realized something was wrong and sped up considerably.

He told me, "Two hours."

My friend immediately started contacting a private investigator to help me gather evidence.

She also warned me not to tip them off before I got home.

If anyone in the building wanted to knock on my door, I should definitely encourage them in the group to go together, ensuring there would be witnesses.

Before hanging up, she said one last thing: "Serena, drive safely. Don't let your health suffer over a man who isn't worth it."

From the moment I discovered Marcus's cheating, I'd only felt shock and anger.

But after seeing my friend's message, tears fell onto my phone against my will.

No time to reminisce about the past with Marcus—Sharon, seeing I hadn't responded in the group, started a group voice call.

I declined it.

Sharon continued posting in the group.

"Oh, so you can see group messages? Then why no response?"

"Don't tell me you're playing the victim, pretending to just discover your husband's cheating?"

"I saw your car this afternoon. You were home. Now you won't admit it?"

"When you were screaming, you sounded so slutty. Now suddenly you're embarrassed?"

I explained again that I was really on the highway and wouldn't be home for another hour and a half.

Sharon still didn't believe me.

"If the woman upstairs really isn't you, I'll not only apologize to you publicly, I'll personally help you catch that homewrecker and scratch her face up!"

I went along with Sharon's words, taking the opportunity to say: "Then I'm afraid I'll really have to trouble you to scratch that homewrecker's face for me."

"I saw on the surveillance—those bastards are asleep now."

"I'll be home in an hour and a half. Everyone, please don't tip them off. When I get to the building, I'd appreciate it if the neighbors who are awake could come with me to catch them in the act and help me get justice!"

The people in the group just wanted to watch the drama unfold. No one actually wanted to get involved in this mess.

Seeing me invite them to witness the affair, the group instantly went silent.

Only Sharon kept cursing at me.

"You bitch, trying to gain sympathy by not admitting to it this time. You'd even ruin your own husband's reputation!"

"Others might not know you, but don't I?"

"When we were renovating, you faked being sick and said you needed to sleep, making the workers stay quiet. That delayed us moving in by a month!"

"Later you hit and killed my dog with your car, but stubbornly claimed you'd injured your leg and hadn't been driving at all."

"You fake bitch, this time I'll make you pay!"

I remembered both incidents Sharon mentioned.

Because this building was close to my company, I was among the first residents to move in. At the time, many units were still being renovated.

Everyone renovated during the day, but Sharon insisted on waiting until after work so she could supervise, making the workers renovate in the evening.

I'd tried reasoning with Sharon several times, but each time she'd size up my clothes and sneer.

"How would a pampered wife like you understand how much we sacrificed for this unit? Of course I need to supervise carefully during renovations. If you think it's too loud, go stay in a hotel!"

At the time I'd had a high fever and wasn't in the mood to argue with her. I called the police instead.

Only then did Sharon start renovating during the day. But after moving in, she decided I'd delayed her renovation schedule and demanded I compensate her a hundred thousand dollars for emotional distress.

I completely ignored her.

But a month later, as I was driving out, her daughter ran straight toward me with her dog on a leash.

Even though I braked hard, I still hit the dog. It died on impact.

Sharon and my husband both rushed to the scene.

Sharon hysterically claimed the dog was their family member and demanded I pay two hundred thousand in compensation.

I insisted on following legal procedures. My husband called the police on the spot.

When the police questioned Sharon's daughter, she was so frightened she could only cry. In the end, it was my dashcam footage that proved my innocence.

I paid fifty thousand as humanitarian compensation.

Sharon cursed and complained it wasn't enough, swearing I'd get what I deserved.

My husband stared silently at Grace in the distance. That must have been their first meeting.

And now, they were lying in the same bed.