Caught Her Cheating,So I Froze Every Dollar

I stepped out of the team dinner with my coworkers.

Through the window, I spotted a young couple at a table—the woman carefully peeling shrimp for the man.

My colleague sighed enviously. "This is why I need to live vicariously through other people's relationships."

He nudged me. "Hey, does your wife peel shrimp for you like that?"

I was about to say Paula's allergic to shrimp.

Five years together. Shrimp never once appeared on our table.

Then the woman turned, laughing—

And my expression froze. Every drop of blood in my body turned to ice.

Then I laughed.

Paula Mason—the woman who'd always been allergic to shrimp—was leaning in with pure bliss on her face, biting the halfeaten shrimp right out of that guy's mouth.

...

The man startled and pushed her away. "People are watching!"

"Have you no shame?"

Paula's eyes curved into crescents, her voice dripping with indulgence. "He's my boyfriend. What's there to be afraid of?"

Her voice sent a spike of pain through my chest. I watched her grab his hand, her face soft with affection.

"Why so shy?" she teased. "You're nothing like this in bed."

Beside me, my colleagues whispered.

"People these days, honestly—"

"In public, no less."

"Already talking about what happens in the bedroom."

My feet felt like lead. My chest heaved. The sheer force of betrayal threatened to crack my ribs open.

I stared at Paula flirting with him, pulled out my phone, and snapped a photo. Then I opened our chat and looked at what she'd sent me thirty minutes ago:

[Honey, I have to work late tonight.]

[Don't wait up for dinner.]

[Love you.]

My eyes burned.

My colleague tugged at my arm, ready to leave. I understood—if I pretended nothing happened, maybe Paula and I could still maintain the illusion of peace.

But just as I reached the restaurant entrance—

I heard the man's voice, petulant and complaining.

"How much longer do we have to keep this a secret?"

He sighed. "My grandpa's birthday banquet is next month. My mom keeps asking me to bring you home."

"I can't exactly—" Each word hammered into my chest. "—tell them I'm actually some married woman's dirty little secret."

"And make my whole family a laughingstock."

I stopped walking.

I'd assumed—at least the guy looked harmless. Innocent, even. If I was going to tear everything apart, there was no need to drag in someone blameless. Whatever happened between Paula and me, we should handle it ourselves.

I'd planned to tell him the truth: You've been deceived.

But now? Now this was easy.

A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth as I heard Paula say:

"Don't worry."

"Everything I owe you—"

"I'll make it up to you. All of it."

I inhaled deeply and pulled free from my colleague's grip.

"Give me a minute."

I met his confused gaze. "Something urgent just came up."

Before he could react, I was already at Paula's table.

I grabbed the glass of orange juice and hurled it in her face.

As she sat there, dripping and stunned, I smiled.

"What a coincidence."

"Paula."

"Cheating at the same restaurant where I'm having my team dinner. Caught redhanded. Should I compliment your choice of venue, or should I compliment—"

My gaze dropped to the pile of shrimp shells.

"—your miraculous recovery from that shrimp allergy?"

"Paula!"

I snatched up the second glass of orange juice, ready to throw it—but she grabbed my wrist.

"Elliot James!"

"Let me explain!"

I looked down at the hand gripping mine. The wedding band on her ring finger still matched mine.

I watched the panic flash across her face—and the fury I'd been choking down surged back to the surface.

Before Paula could explain, I shook her off and slapped her hard across the face.

"What the hell gives you the right to hit her!"

The guy scrambled out of his seat and shoved me back, positioning himself in front of Paula like some kind of shield.

"Who the fuck do you think you are!" he shouted. "You don't get to touch my girlfriend!"

I just looked at him—really looked—and almost laughed at the absurdity. Then I met Paula's complicated expression, grabbed a napkin from the table, and calmly wiped my wrist where she'd touched me.

"Why don't you tell him," I said, my voice flat.

I held Paula's gaze. "Tell him exactly who I am. Tell him whether I have the right to hit you."

Paula's face cycled through shock, then confusion, and finally something harder as she watched me press forward. She glanced at the guy's defiant stance, then made her choice—stepping in front of him, shielding him from me.

"Elliot, when it comes to relationships, it takes two to tango."

She pulled the guy behind her. My colleague Chloe had already moved to my side. "Need backup?" she asked quietly.

I shook my head, letting Paula continue.

"Elliot." Paula lifted her chin. "We were together five years. Married for two. Have you ever stopped to consider how many problems you brought to this marriage?"

She met my eyes without flinching.

"Yes, I built my life in this city because of you. Yes, my success exists because of the doors you opened. But that doesn't mean I have to tolerate your entire family looking down on me."

She stepped closer.

"I can apologize. I can go home with you." Her expression wavered. "But don't drag Rupert Vance into this. He's innocent in all of this." Even now, she was making excuses for him. "He's young—he can't afford this kind of scandal. His grandfather is in poor health and can't handle the stress. Whatever issues we have—"

Her gaze flicked to Chloe, who was watching her like a hawk ready to strike.

"—we can discuss at home."

I listened to Paula deliver her speech, every word calculated to protect this Rupert, and felt something between disgust and disbelief.

Five years together. Three years married.

When Paula first started her company, I'd called in every favor I had. My parents had worked their connections to the bone. They'd even mortgaged their assets to fund her entire startup.

Back then, whenever Paula talked about it, her eyes would well up.

"Elliot, I'll owe you for the rest of my life. I swear I'll make it up to you—to you and your family."

Now?

Now it had become: "I built my success because of you. But that doesn't mean I have to tolerate your family looking down on me."

I stared at this woman I'd loved for five years. I'd thought I could handle this calmly, rationally. But her words still hit like a fist to the chest, squeezing until I could barely breathe, barely stand—

"What the actual fuck!" Chloe exploded before I could respond. "So let me get this straight—you used my boy here to climb your way up, got bored, and decided to trade him in for a younger model? And now you're trying to make him the villain?"

She jabbed a finger at Paula. "You've got some goddamn nerve!"

Then she rounded on Rupert.

"And you!" She pointed at the designer chain around his neck. "If I'm not mistaken, that little accessory was bought with my friend's money!"

Her voice rose. "Take it off. Give it back!"

She lunged for it. Rupert shrieked and stumbled backward. Paula grabbed Chloe's wrist and yanked hard, sending her crashing into the table. Glasses shattered. Plates clattered to the floor.

And through it all, Paula's voice cut through the chaos—