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That evening, my husband came home with over a dozen Labubu figures. I laughed in surprise. "Why'd you buy so many?" His tone was affectionate. "You and Dylan both love them, so why not?" Looking at the already-opened boxes scattered around, I didn't think much of it. Until that night, I stumbled on a post from his company intern showing a rare chase variant Labubu with the caption: "Mr. X got our son a chase today~ He said me and our son are his exclusive chase variants too." Mr. X. That was Xavier's old nickname. My heart sank as I remembered all those open boxes downstairs... So buying a dozen figures was just to pull the rare one for his OTHER FAMILY? Which meant our son and I only deserved the leftovers? I stared at that post for a long moment, letting it all sink in. Then double-tapped the post. Fine. Since he started this game, he couldn't blame me for PLAYING TO WIN. Thirty seconds later, coughing echoed from the balcony. Xavier crushed out his cigar and rushed inside, his face instantly brightening when he saw me. "Babe, how about tomorrow we take Dylan to get that Death Star LEGO set?" I popped an orange slice into my mouth and swallowed. "Didn't you say it was overpriced and would take up too much space?" "It's New Year's. If he wants it, he should have it. I want to spend time with him." I grabbed a tissue, wiped my hands, and stood. "I'm gonna take a shower." Inside the bathroom, I locked the door, turned on the water, and pulled out my phone. Fallon had deleted the post, but I'd already screenshotted it. I opened my camera roll and zoomed in, focusing on the wall behind the frame—textured surface, shimmering under the light. I'm an interior designer. I know that finish anywhere. Phantom Gray art paint. Our company's newest release from last month, not available to the public yet, only used in one recently completed development. Harborview Residences—Xavier's project. I studied the edge of the photo where the window reflected lights from outside—the red and blue glow of the bar across the street. Location confirmed. When I walked out of the bathroom, Dylan was already asleep. Xavier was sitting on the edge of the bed, tucking him in. I noticed our son's pajama collar was stretched out and faded—hand-me-downs from my cousin's kid. Xavier insisted buying new was wasteful since kids grow so fast. I couldn't help but remember that tiny baby hand gripping the Labubu in her post. Around the wrist was a custom Cartier baby bracelet. I recognized that design—easily twenty grand. Hand-me-down clothes for his legitimate son. A Cartier bracelet for his bas//tard. Xavier looked up. "Done with your shower? Let's hit the mall tomorrow for that LEGO set. Dylan said—" "I've got an emergency at work tomorrow. Need to head in." I cut him off, my voice flat. Too little, too late. What's with the fake dad act now? "On New Year's Day?" "Yeah. Client's blueprints have an issue. I need to verify on-site." He let out a breath. "Alright, you do what you need to. I'll watch Dylan." I turned my back to him and lay down. The smell of tobacco mixed with his body wash made my stomach turn. I didn't sleep all night. 6 AM. Xavier was still asleep with a faint smile on his lips. I got up and drove straight to Harborview Residences. I parked in a corner near the garage entrance of Building B, eyes locked on the lobby door and exit. I didn't have the exact unit number, but I knew his license plate. 7:30 AM. An Audi A6 rolled out of the garage—Xavier's car. Passenger window halfway down. Fallon sat there with no makeup, hair pulled back, cradling a baby boy about a year old. Xavier leaned over, playing with the kid, who giggled and waved his little hands. The car pulled over and Xavier got out, walked around to the passenger side, scooped up the kid with one arm, and hoisted him onto his shoulders. "Flying high! Hold on Daddy tight, buddy!" My knuckles turned white gripping the steering wheel. Two days ago, Dylan asked him for a shoulder ride and he'd clutched his back, saying, "Daddy's back hurts, maybe next time." Fallon stood beside them, laughing as she snapped photos. I pulled out my phone, captured several shots, then recorded a video. Xavier set the kid down, kissed Fallon's forehead, got back in the car and drove off. Fallon held the baby, watching until the car disappeared before swiping her key card and entering the building. I got out and walked to the security booth at the entrance. "Ms. Sullivan? What brings you here?" I smiled and handed him a pack of Marlboros. "Just passing through. Thought I'd check things out." "By the way, that woman with the baby who just went into Building B—which unit is she in?" The guard took the cigars, grinning. "Oh, you mean Ms. Gray? That's Mr. Brennan's arrangement." "Mr. Brennan?" He lowered his voice. "Yeah. Mr. Brennan said she's his distant cousin, just had a baby with no one to help, so she's staying in the model unit." "Mr. Brennan's such a saint—even covered a year's worth of HOA fees for her and told us to look after her too." My smile deepened. "Yeah, he's always been so 'generous.'" Distant cousin. Temporary stay in the model unit. What a cover story. I memorized the unit number—Building B, 1602—and headed back to my car, typing the date and unit number into my notes app. When I got home, Xavier was back with a LEGO Death Star set, sprawled on the floor with Dylan, building it. "Mommy's home!" Dylan shouted. Xavier looked up. "All done with work?" "Yeah. All handled." I hung up my coat. "How long were you out shopping? Why do you smell like baby formula?" Xavier's hands froze mid-snap of a LEGO piece. "Oh, the mall was crazy packed. Must've bumped into someone with a baby." He stood and walked over to hug me. "You worked hard today, babe. What do you want for lunch? I'll cook." I stepped aside and picked up my water glass. "Whatever. I'm tired. Need to rest." The next day, back to work. Fallon knocked on my office door, arms full of expense reports. Wear a cashmere coat I'd seen at the boutique with a thirty-eight-hundred-dollar price tag. Her monthly intern stipend was only four hundred bucks. "Ms. Sullivan, Mr. Brennan asked me to get these signed." She set the stack on my desk, tucking her hair behind her ear, collar open and revealing a pendant around her neck. My heart sank. It was my late mother-in-law's heirloom, the one Xavier claimed he'd "lost" two years ago. Turned out it wasn't lost. Just changed hands. I swallowed my rage and picked up the expense reports— Client entertainment, office supplies, several thousand dollars total. I flipped through the attached receipts: Formula, diapers... The invoice headers said "office supplies," but the itemized lists were still attached. I signed off on them. "Thanks for bringing these. That coat looks great on you. New?" Fallon touched the collar, smiling. "Yeah, my boyfriend got it for me as a New Year's gift." "Your boyfriend treats you well." I handed back the reports, eyes lingering on the jade pendant. "That necklace is nice too. Looks vintage." She instinctively covered her collar. "It's... it's fake. Got it from a street vendor." She clutched the files and hurried out. The second she left, I picked up my desk phone and dialed accounting. "Flag those expenses I just signed in the system and keep the original receipts on file. Don't process them yet." I hung up, opened my computer, and pulled up the company's purchasing records from the past year, filtering by Xavier's approvals over five grand. A long list populated the screen. One supplier caught my eye: Luminance Building Supply, added six months ago to provide paint and materials. Every single project Xavier oversaw in the past half-year specified their products exclusively. I pulled up several procurement contracts—unit prices 30% higher than market average. Then opened the business registry website and searched "Luminance Building Supply." Didn't recognize the CEO, but the listed supervisor was Grant Gray. I had HR pull Fallon's employee file. Grant Gray. Her father. I screenshotted everything, printed it out, and locked it in my safe. After finishing, I opened my banking app and logged into Xavier's investment account—the one we'd been using to save for Dylan's college fund, two grand a month for five years. Balance: $368.50. Over a hundred thousand dollars. Gone. I opened the transaction history. A year ago—right around when Fallon got pregnant—the money had been transferred out in batches. The last transaction note reading: "Down payment on property." I traced the funds to Harborview Residences, Building B, Unit 1602. But the deed holder wasn't Fallon or Xavier—it was in the name of Xavier's mother, who'd been dead for three years. Dead people don't talk. So, even in a divorce, I'd have a he11 of a time proving that property was marital assets. It would be "his mom's inheritance." Xavier, you calculating asshole. That evening, Xavier came home holding a bouquet of carnations in cheap wrapping. He knew I hated carnations—they reminded me of hospitals—but he never remembered. "Babe, this weekend the company's doing a team retreat at a resort in the countryside. Want to come clear your head?" He handed me the flowers. "You've been working so hard lately. We could bring Dylan too." I took the bouquet and sniffed it. "Sounds perfect. I've got something to announce anyway." Weekend. Countryside resort. The company rented out the back patio with BBQ grills lined up and ready while Xavier made the rounds, clinking glasses with employees. Fallon was there too, pushing a stroller with a baby inside dressed head to toe in designer baby clothes. Officially, she claimed it was her nephew. A few female coworkers crowded around, cooing. "Oh my gosh, what a chunky little guy! Look at those features." "Right? He looks familiar somehow." Jenny from HR piped up, "Wait, that nose and mouth... doesn't he kind of look like... Mr. Brennan?" Fallon's smile froze. She let out a nervous laugh and scooped up the baby. "Come on, all babies look alike. You're seeing things." Xavier was walking over when he caught that last bit, his steps faltering for just a second. But the baby spotted Xavier. He reached out his little hands, babbling excitedly. Xavier extended his arms halfway, then pulled back and just patted the kid's head instead. "He's adorable. I've always liked kids." He turned to look at me, then quickly looked away. "Where'd Dylan run off to?" I sat under the patio umbrella, swirling my juice, and gestured toward the lawn. "Over there playing soccer with the other kids." I looked at the baby in Fallon's arms and raised my voice. "Your nephew's such a lucky kid, Fallon. I bet he's gonna grow up to be some big-shot CEO." Fallon gave a tight smile, clutched the baby closer, and walked away. Dinner was set up in the banquet hall. Xavier was taking the stage to give a speech while I sat beside him. When he finished, I grabbed the mic. "While we're all here, I've got some exciting news." "To thank everyone for their hard work this year, we're introducing a Special Contribution Award at this year's gala." The room went silent, everyone leaning forward. I held up one hand, spreading my fingers. "The prize? Half a million dollars." The place erupted—cheers, gasps, the whole nine yards. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Fallon's table. She'd been feeding the baby, but at the mention of half a million, her head snapped up. I continued, "This award isn't about seniority or rank—it's about special contributions to the company, and I'm leaving the nomination entirely up to Mr. Brennan." I handed the mic to Xavier with a meaningful smile. "Honey, you know better than anyone who's been working behind the scenes. Make sure this award goes to someone who truly deserves it." He froze for a beat, then his face lit up like Christmas morning. He'd been stressing about moving assets around and covering Fallon's expenses lately, and this half-million was a legal goldmine dropped right into his lap. He grabbed my hand, his own trembling with excitement. "Babe, don't worry—I'll be totally fair and give it to whoever needs it most and has contributed the most!" After the meeting, Xavier pulled me aside, testing the waters. "Babe, about that special award... I really get final say? What about accounting?" "You're the legal rep and CEO. Of course you decide." I straightened his collar. "As long as you think she deserves it, I'll sign off." Xavier relaxed, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. "Great. I think Fallon's been doing solid work as an intern—she's been putting in crazy hours helping me with... personal matters. Really dedicated." "Whatever you think. I trust your judgment." I smiled, but my eyes were ice-cold. That night, I stayed on the third floor of the resort. Xavier claimed he'd had too much to drink and didn't want to disturb Dylan and me, so he got himself a room on the second floor. I tucked Dylan in, turned off the lights, and sat in the darkness. Listening to faint laughter and a little voice shouting "Daddy, up!" coming from Fallon's room down the hall through the thin walls. I pulled out my phone and checked the security camera feed. Xavier was wearing a paper crown with Fallon nestled against him. Both of them were holding the baby's hand as they cut a cake together. Balloons hung on the wall behind them spelling out "Happy 1st Birthday." I screenshot the photo, backed it up, and called my banker friend Marcus. "I need you to pull the latest transaction history on all of Xavier's accounts. It's urgent." Keyboard clicks came through the line. "Evelyn, something's off. Xavier just took out a loan last week—five million." "What's the collateral?" "He used the company's credit as a business loan guarantee." I gripped my phone tighter. Business loans—if he defaulted, the company would go broke. "Where'd the money go?" "Transferred to an offshore account under the name Linda Morrison." Linda Morrison—Fallon's birth mother, the "aunt" watching the baby. Xavier, you're not just keeping a mistress—you're dragging me down with you, making me responsible for your debt?! How dare you!

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A new Pop Mart opened at mall, and that evening my husband came home with over a dozen Labubu figures. I laughed in surprise.