Part 3The Delivery Guy At Her Hotel

Her other hand reached up to stroke my face, but I shoved it away.

She visibly stiffened.

"Chloe, transfer that twenty-five grand back to my account tomorrow. It's payday, and I'm going to the bank to pull it all out in cash."

She went quiet for a moment. "It's the same whether it sits in my account or yours. Why bother taking out cash? It makes no difference."

I sat up, turning my head to look at her in the dim light, my voice casual.

"Well, my sweet Chloe spends money a little too fast. I'm just worried you won't be able to control yourself."

Usually, if I teased her like that, she’d playfully hit my arm. But this time, irritation edged into her voice.

"What's that supposed to mean? So what if I spend a little of your money? Don't you love me anymore?"

Her voice trembled as if she were about to burst into tears. Swallowing down my disgust, I pulled her against my chest.

"Of course I do," I whispered lightly. "Why so touchy? It’s not like you're keeping a side piece outside, right?"

Her entire body froze solid. A second later, she shoved me off with all her strength.

I couldn't see her expression in the dark, but I knew it had to be hideous.

"What is your problem?!" she screamed at me, hysteria in her voice. "You're crossing the line! How dare you insult me like that! I hate you!"

People always fly off the handle when their guilt gets exposed.

She jumped off the bed and stormed into the guest room.

In the past, whenever she threw a tantrum, she’d lock herself away, and I’d rush over within minutes to beg for forgiveness.

Not this time. Lying in the same bed with her made my skin crawl.

I lay back down and reached over to the nightstand, grabbing her phone.

Her passcode was the same as mine.

I unlocked it and checked her bank and PayPal balances.

The more I scrolled, the colder my heart grew.

Over the past three years, the money I had sent her easily exceeded thirty thousand dollars.

Because she didn't want to work, I covered all her daily expenses on top of our rent.

Yet across all her accounts, there was barely fifteen thousand left.

Then I opened her SnapChat messages with her trainer, Hunter. What I saw made my blood boil.

The latest message was a shirtless picture of Hunter flexing his abs.

Chloe had replied with a flirty emoji, followed by an eight-hundred-dollar transfer via PayPal.

She wrote: "You really know how to please me. Here’s a little reward."

My hands trembled uncontrollably. I scrolled further back through their history and discovered she had been funneling money to him for months.

No wonder she panicked so badly earlier. This wasn't just an affair—she was his sugar mommy with my cash.

The earliest money transfer dated back six months.

I used my own phone to photograph every single receipt, text, and transaction, then placed her phone back exactly as I found it.

Neither of them was getting away with this.

Chloe had rewarded him with so much of my money; it was time Hunter tasted the consequences.