My world crumbled when I discovered my husband and sister had been secretly dating for years.

Private investigator Rolf handed me a stack of papers. “Their first messages began three summers ago. I had checked the messages.”

First page: Alyssa was flirting. Asking him when he could be inside her again. Aiden replied, “If you’re naughty, I’ll tie you up later.”

A sharp pain shot through my chest.

I turned the page—and there she was. Bare. Fingers spread, open herself for my husband.

Their conversation disgusted me.

He continued, “Besides Alyssa, there are many others. I’ve made a list.”

I needed to get tested for STDs, and my mind went blank.

What was I to him? Had he ever been faithful?

"Rolf," I say, in a flat voice, "I need you to find me the best family law attorney."

————————

Ella

Shame isn't what I expect to feel, but it's here. It burns through me as I hide in Marcus's Presidio Heights apartment like I'm the guilty one. Everything feels wrecked. I keep questioning myself-my instincts, the man I've always believed my husband to be. I'm clinging to the hope that my dad won't protect Alissa this time, not after decades of my parents tolerating her bitterness and cruelty. The cold metal of the necklace and key in my hand reminds me I'm not crazy. Something is there, even if I don't yet know exactly what.

I need the truth. I need a definitive diagnosis so I can cut the disease out of my life if it's real. God, I hope it's not. I hope it hasn't gone that far, because I love Aiden with everything in me-maybe too much. He's all I've ever known, and if I've lost him, it will rip something essential from inside me.

My phone buzzes. Rolf. I don't have everything yet, but we should meet in person. Privately. I text back Marcus's address. I already know: if he needs to see me in person, he's found evidence.

Not long after I make a fresh pot of coffee, the intercom buzzes. I let him in, leaving the door ajar, unable to stand still with all this nervous energy coursing through me. More coffee is a bad idea, but the heat grounds me, and I cling to that small comfort.

Rolf steps inside first. Behind him, a tall, unexpected figure hesitates at the threshold. My dad looks at me with sad, grey eyes. "I can leave if you want, but I didn't want you to do this alone. It's your call, kiddo."

"Thanks, Dad. It's okay." I don't hug him like I normally would. This is too serious for social gestures. This is a reckoning, and its impact will extend far beyond my marriage.

Dad stands beside me at the kitchen table like a bodyguard. Rolf sits opposite us, moving more gracefully than a man his size should. His face grimaces apologetically. "I'll tell you what we know so far, and what I'm still waiting to learn."

I nod, my eyes snagging on the manila folder in front of him. It feels like a live grenade with the pin pulled, and he's about to hand it to me.

"Accessing Aiden's phone, email, and credit card histories was easier than expected because everything's in the company's name. Your father-or rather ProGena Biotech-owns his phone, his iPad, and his laptop. Your sister's data was also accessible because she's still a dependent until she comes into her trust on her twenty-first birthday in a few months. We tracked her spending, phone records... and travel history." He emphasizes the last part, and I don't miss it.

"Please just rip the bandage off. We'll sort details later." My voice almost breaks as bile rises in my throat.

"The apartment that goes with the key you have was purchased five years ago under a land trust filed by your husband's personal attorney. The grantor is listed as Aiden Conlan, and the sole trustee is the same attorney. According to management, your husband-"

"Please, just call him Aiden." I need the distance, even if it's only in words.

"Of course." Rolf nods. "The property manager says Aiden Conlan is the sole resident. It's a studio on the fifth floor. Unit 508, if you're wondering." He waits for me to nod before continuing. "We also pulled phone records from both Alissa and Aiden. Their first messages began three summers ago. During July and early August, they messaged frequently to meet up, but the communication stopped when she returned to school." Rolf inhales deeply. "It resumed during Thanksgiving break and continues from there."

He lets the words hang before slicing me open with more.

"It's not uncommon for family friends to be in contact, but to be thorough, I had one of my 'red teamers' look at their iClouds to see the content of their communications." He sets down a thick stack of stapled pages. "The most recent are on top."

Two years. Six meetings before her graduation. Weekend trips to LA and Portland that match business travel records. Everything lines up. My father grimaces at the mention of ProGena Biotech being their cover.

I take the stack Rolf slides toward me. On the first page, my nightmare waits: Alissa flirting. Asking when he can be inside her again. Aiden replied, If you're not a good girl, I'll tie you up later.

My chest clamps. I flip the page-and there she is. Bare. Fingers spreading herself open for my husband. No refuting this. His response isn't to tell her to stop, but to ask for more.

The thought of them together sends me sprinting to the sink just in time to vomit up my coffee. I rinse my mouth, holding myself over the basin until the wave passes. Jesus Christ. How is this real? "Is there more?" My bile-singed throat rasps.

"Unfortunately, yes." Rolf's voice is solemn. "Do you need a minute?"

"No. Let's get this over with." My shaky voice betrays me.

"There are many more photos. The videos are on a thumb drive, but I don't recommend you look. You already know. He also had a secret folder on his phone. Ella, I'm really sorry. There's photographic evidence of a lot more than just Alissa in that folder. I've identified as many of the women as possible and drafted a list so you don't have to look at the photos directly."

Others. Many. A secret stash of trophies. My breaths come fast. My dad walks to where I'm hunched over, rubbing my back. "I'm going to destroy him," he mutters.

I bitterly wonder if that promise includes my darling sister.

I glance at the list of names. Too many. I need an STD panel, my mind spits. Jesus. "How long?" I ask. I don't need to know how many. One would have been enough.

Rolf hesitates. "That's going to take longer to discover."

My brow furrows. "Why?"

"Because we've gone through five years of your husband's records and we still haven't found the beginning."

The words drag me under like lead weights. My knees buckle. My dad's arms come around me, pulling me close as gut-wrenching sobs force tears out of me like a poison that my soul is desperate to purge. He holds me tight while I shake, until finally a new feeling rises-not anger, but pure, unadulterated hate.

I pull away, clutching my head. The scream rips out of me raw, grief hijacking my mind.

My marriage. My love. He's been everything to me. What have I ever been to him? Had he ever been faithful? Why marry me at all if this is what he wanted?

"You're the strongest person I've ever known, and you're going to be okay. You're not alone, sweetie," Dad says, close but giving me space.

I inhale deep, slow breaths until I find a sliver of control. "I need to see it. You can stay here, but I'm going to the apartment."

"El-girl, maybe that's not such a good idea," my dad tries.

"It's probably a horrible idea, but I need to see it."

On the table sit the necklace, the key, screenshots, and the list of names. A short, caustic laugh escapes me. Not even creative-these same rich bitches from high school, the socialites I'm forced to tolerate at charity functions. Alissa's circle. Not mine. I must have seemed like such a naive fool.

"If you insist, let me drive you both," Rolf says firmly. "You're in no state to handle traffic, and I'll make sure no one's there before you go in."

Fine. I text Marcus to say I'm leaving for a while and will explain later.

In the back seat of Rolf's blacked-out Tahoe, I tell my dad without looking at him, "You know this changes everything, right?" He knows I'm talking about all the years they placated me with patience and grace for the sister who never hid her malice.

Dad inhales a shaky breath, then meets my eyes. "I know." He squeezes my clammy hand. "It's not enough, but I'll never stop being sorry for the way we protected her feelings over yours. I'm on your side, El. No matter what."

I keep my eyes on the highway but don't pull my hand away. They're not forgiven. Not even close. In this, at least, my dad stands by me. The rest of my family? We'll see.

Thirty minutes later, we pull into the back entrance of a luxury apartment building a few blocks from ProGena's offices. My body feels like cement. The stress is already triggering a flare-up in my inflammation. Rolf gains us entrance quietly, and we ride the elevator with the key in hand. Each step takes me closer to more pain, but I need to see.

The key slides into the lock and turns without resistance. A tear falls. The last piece of my naive, stupid heart had hoped that it wouldn't fit. That this wasn't real, and that the pain wouldn't keep multiplying.

The smell hits me first-sandalwood and salt. Aiden. Then the decor: masculine, modern, all white and slate grey. The kitchen holds only a lone coffee pot. The space is just a large bedroom with a sitting area and a bathroom. The bed is a black four-poster frame with ties at the base of each post.

My feet carry me forward. I reach between a post and the mattress, fingers closing on something cold and fuzzy. Fur-lined restraints. My stomach drops. Matching sets at each corner. My mind races.

I open the bedside table. Two boxes of condoms. Several types of lube. A satin eye mask. A sob breaks out of me.

Why wasn't I enough? We still had intercourse, often. We were still loving each other through busy lives-or so I thought.

I step back, careful not to touch anything. I feel dirty-not just for standing in this place, but for being married to the person who lives here. Nothing can ever go back to normal now. Memories feel like insults.

"Rolf," I say, voice flat, "I need you to find me the best family law attorney in California."