I called my unfaithful wife when I happened to see her entering the hotel. But, uh..

Chapter One: The Call

The sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows across the busy city streets. I’m stuck in traffic, drumming my fingers against the steering wheel, when I catch sight of something that makes my heart skip a beat. There, across the street, is my wife, Sarah, slipping into the lobby of the Grand Regency Hotel. My eyes narrow, suspicion gnawing at the edges of my mind.

“What the hell is she doing there?” I mutter to myself. She had told me she was going out with friends tonight. This wasn’t part of the plan.

I pull into a side street, park hastily, and grab my phone. My fingers hover over her contact for a second before I press call. The phone rings once, twice, three times. I’m about to hang up when the call connects. But instead of Sarah’s voice, I hear a man’s voice, smooth and intimate.

“Honey, you’re not wearing underwear today. That turns me on, let’s not waste any time.”

My breath catches in my throat, a hot wave of anger and betrayal washing over me. I hear Sarah’s muffled gasp, followed by a rustle of fabric. I freeze, unable to believe what I’m hearing. This isn’t just a casual betrayal; it’s a blatant, in-my-face kind of infidelity. And something inside me snaps.

I hang up, gripping the phone so hard my knuckles turn white. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. My mind races, plotting revenge. I’ve always considered myself a patient man, but this – this calls for swift and merciless action.

I start the car and drive around the block, formulating a plan. I know the hotel well; it’s a high-end place with discrete staff and even more discrete guests. Perfect for someone wanting to hide their illicit affairs. I pull into the parking lot, my heart pounding in my chest.

I walk into the lobby, my eyes scanning the area. The receptionist, a young woman with a polite smile, greets me.

“Good evening, sir. How can I help you?”

“Good evening. I’m here to meet my wife, Sarah. She checked in a few minutes ago,” I say smoothly, forcing a smile. “She forgot her phone in the car, and I wanted to surprise her.”

The receptionist hesitates, then nods. “Of course, sir. Let me just check for you.”

She taps on her keyboard, and I see her eyebrows raise slightly. “She’s in room 812, sir. Would you like me to call her?”

“No need,” I say quickly. “I’ll go surprise her myself. Thank you.”

I walk to the elevator, feeling the weight of what I’m about to do settle heavily on my shoulders. The ride up is agonizingly slow, each ding of the floors passing heightening my anger. When I finally reach the eighth floor, I step out into the hallway, my footsteps echoing ominously on the plush carpet.

Room 812 is at the end of the hall. I approach it slowly, listening for any sounds from within. I can hear muffled voices, laughter, and the unmistakable tone of intimacy. My blood boils, but I force myself to stay calm.

I knock on the door, loud and authoritative. There’s a moment of silence, followed by hurried whispers. The door opens slightly, and a man’s face appears – handsome, with a cocky smirk that vanishes the moment he sees me.

“Who the hell are you?” he demands, trying to block the view inside with his body.

“Room service,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. Before he can react, I shove the door open and step inside.

Sarah is on the bed, wearing nothing but a silk robe, her eyes wide with shock. The man, her lover, stands frozen, unsure whether to fight or flee. The room is a mess of discarded clothes and wine glasses, the stench of betrayal hanging heavy in the air.

“Michael, what are you doing here?” Sarah stammers, her face paling.

“Catching you red-handed,” I say, my voice cold and hard. “And now, I think it’s time for some consequences.”

I stride towards the man, who finally seems to find his voice. “Look, man, this isn’t what it looks like…”

“Save it,” I snap. “I don’t care who you are or what your excuses are.”

I grab him by the collar and drag him to the door. “Get out. Now.”

He stumbles, trying to regain his balance, but one look at my face convinces him to leave without another word. He bolts down the hallway, leaving Sarah and me alone.

Sarah tries to speak, but I hold up a hand, silencing her. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

I take a deep breath, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts. “You’ve made your choices, Sarah. Now, it’s time for me to make mine.”

I turn on my heel and walk out, leaving her in stunned silence. As the elevator doors close, I feel a strange sense of calm settle over me. The path ahead is clear – and my revenge has only just begun.

Chapter Two: The Plan

The elevator descends, and I feel a strange, numbing calm wash over me. Betrayal’s sting has given way to cold resolve. As the doors open, I step into the lobby, pulling out my phone. There’s one person I need to talk to: my best friend, Jake.

Jake and I have been friends since college. He’s a private investigator, and if anyone can help me get back at Sarah, it’s him. I dial his number, and after a few rings, he picks up.

“Hey, Mike, what’s up?” His voice is warm, familiar, and instantly reassuring.

“Jake, I need your help. It’s urgent.”

There’s a pause, then his tone shifts to serious. “What’s going on?”

“Sarah. I caught her cheating,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “I need to make sure this never happens again.”

“Where are you?”

“The Grand Regency Hotel.”

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

I hang up and head to the hotel bar. It’s dimly lit, with soft jazz playing in the background. I order a whiskey, needing something strong to steady my nerves. As I wait, I think about Sarah, about how we met, the life we built together. It all feels like a cruel joke now.

Jake arrives exactly twenty minutes later, sliding into the seat next to me. He orders a beer and looks at me, his eyes filled with concern.

“Tell me everything,” he says.

I recount the events of the evening, from seeing Sarah enter the hotel to the phone call, and finally, the confrontation in room 812. Jake listens intently, nodding occasionally.

“That’s rough, man,” he says when I finish. “But you’re doing the right thing by coming to me. We’ll figure this out together.”

I take a sip of my drink, feeling the warmth spread through me. “What do we do first?”

Jake leans in, his voice low. “We need to gather evidence. If you’re planning on a divorce, you’ll need proof of her infidelity. And if you want revenge, well, that’s a different story.”

“Both,” I say firmly. “I want her out of my life, but I also want her to feel the pain she’s caused me.”

Jake nods. “Alright. First, we set up surveillance. I’ll have my team follow her, document her activities. We’ll find out who this guy is, and if there are others. Once we have enough, we can plan our next move.”

We finish our drinks and leave the bar. Jake follows me to my car, and we drive to his office, a small but well-equipped space in the heart of the city. He introduces me to his team: Lisa, a tech expert, and Tom, a field investigator. They’re both professional and efficient, and I feel a flicker of hope.

Lisa sets up a surveillance plan, installing discreet cameras around my house and in Sarah’s car. Tom tailors the approach, ensuring they stay under the radar while gathering intel. As they work, Jake and I sit in his office, discussing the broader plan.

“Once we have the evidence, we’ll confront her,” Jake says. “But not just in private. We’ll do it in a way that maximizes the impact.”

I nod, understanding his implication. “Public humiliation.”

“Exactly. But we need to be careful. We don’t want any legal trouble.”

Hours pass as we finalize the details. By the time I leave Jake’s office, it’s well past midnight. I drive home, my mind buzzing with the plan we’ve laid out. The house is dark when I arrive. I enter quietly, not wanting to wake Sarah. I can hear her soft breathing from our bedroom. It takes every ounce of self-control not to confront her right then and there.

Instead, I sleep on the couch, thoughts of revenge keeping me awake. The next few days pass in a blur. Sarah continues her routine, blissfully unaware of the net closing around her. Jake’s team works efficiently, feeding me updates regularly.

“Sarah met with the same guy again,” Tom reports one afternoon. “They spent a few hours at his apartment.”

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to stay calm. “Keep following them. I want every detail.”

By the end of the week, we have enough evidence to bury her. Photos, videos, and even audio recordings of her meetings with her lover. Jake compiles everything into a comprehensive dossier, which he hands to me with a grim smile.

“It’s time,” he says.

I take the dossier, feeling the weight of it in my hands. “Let’s do this.”

We arrange a confrontation at a restaurant where Sarah and I used to go often. It’s a busy place, filled with familiar faces. The perfect stage for what I have in mind. Jake’s team sets up cameras to capture the moment, ensuring we have everything documented.

Sarah arrives, smiling, expecting a romantic evening. She’s even dressed up, wearing the dress I bought her for our anniversary last year. The sight of her, so radiant and deceptive, fuels my anger.

We sit down, and I force myself to act normal. We order wine, make small talk, and I wait for the right moment. Finally, when the main course arrives, I pull out the dossier and place it on the table.

“What’s this?” Sarah asks, her smile faltering.

“Open it,” I say coldly.

She does, her eyes widening as she sees the contents. Photos of her with her lover, timestamps, locations, and explicit details. Her face drains of color, and she looks up at me, horrified.

“Michael, I can explain…”

“No need,” I cut her off. “Everyone here can see what you’ve done.”

I stand up, addressing the restaurant. “Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption, but I thought you should all know that my wife, Sarah, has been cheating on me.”

Gasps and whispers ripple through the room. Sarah’s face turns beet red as she realizes the gravity of the situation. She tries to speak, but I hold up my hand.

“You’ve betrayed me, Sarah. And now, everyone knows. Consider this my revenge.”

I turn and walk out, leaving her to face the stunned crowd. As I exit the restaurant, I feel a sense of liberation. The road ahead is uncertain, but one thing is clear: I’m free from the lies and betrayal. And that’s a victory in itself.

Chapter Three: Unraveling

I walk out of the restaurant, the cool night air hitting my face. The satisfaction of my public confrontation begins to fade, replaced by a gnawing emptiness. As I reach my car, my phone buzzes. It’s Jake.

“How did it go?” he asks, his voice tense with anticipation.

“I did it,” I reply, feeling a strange mix of relief and exhaustion. “She’s humiliated. But now what, Jake? I feel like this is just the beginning.”

“Come to my office,” he says. “We need to discuss the next steps.”

I drive through the city, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Sarah’s shocked face keeps replaying in my head. I arrive at Jake’s office, and he’s waiting for me outside, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Nice work,” he says, clapping me on the back as we head inside. “But you’re right. This is far from over.”

We settle into his office, the familiar hum of electronics and the glow of computer screens creating a tense atmosphere. Lisa and Tom are already there, reviewing the footage from the restaurant.

“Mike, we have to think about the legal side of things,” Lisa says, turning to face me. “You want a clean divorce, right? No loose ends.”

I nod. “I want her out of my life. Completely.”

Jake sits down, steepling his fingers. “Then we need to move fast. Sarah’s going to be reeling from tonight. We need to strike while she’s vulnerable.”

“Divorce papers,” Lisa suggests. “Have them ready to serve her first thing in the morning.”

Tom chimes in. “We should also secure any shared assets. Bank accounts, property—make sure she can’t retaliate financially.”

The next few hours are a blur of activity. Jake and his team help me draft the divorce papers, ensuring every detail is meticulously covered. We lock down our joint accounts, and I move to secure the house. By dawn, everything is in place.

I head home, exhaustion weighing heavy on my shoulders. The house is quiet, and I tiptoe inside. Sarah’s side of the bed is empty, the sheets still neatly made. I wonder if she’s even come home. I collapse on the couch, too tired to care.

The next morning, I’m jolted awake by a loud knock at the door. I open it to find a courier holding an envelope.

“Michael Thompson?”

“That’s me.”

“Sign here, please.”

I scribble my signature and take the envelope. It’s the divorce papers. I can feel the weight of the finality as I hold them in my hands. I call Jake.

“It’s done. The papers are here.”

“Good,” he replies. “Now, deliver them to her. Make it official.”

I drive to Sarah’s workplace, my heart pounding. Her office is in a sleek, modern building downtown. I walk into the lobby, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and dread. The receptionist looks up as I approach.

“I’m here to see Sarah Thompson,” I say.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but this is urgent.”

She hesitates, then picks up the phone. “One moment.”

A few minutes later, Sarah appears. She looks disheveled, her eyes puffy from crying. When she sees me, her face hardens.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, her voice a mixture of anger and fear.

I hand her the envelope. “It’s over, Sarah. These are the divorce papers. I want you out of my life for good.”

She takes the envelope, her hands trembling. “Michael, please. Can’t we talk about this?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I say coldly. “You made your choice. Now live with it.”

I turn and walk away, leaving her standing there, stunned. As I exit the building, I feel a sense of finality. It’s done. There’s no turning back now.

I spend the rest of the day tying up loose ends. I meet with my lawyer, who assures me that everything is in order. By evening, I’m back at Jake’s office, where we review the footage and documents one last time.

“We’ve got everything we need,” Jake says, looking satisfied. “Sarah doesn’t stand a chance.”

But as I leave Jake’s office, a new thought creeps into my mind. What if Sarah tries to retaliate? She’s hurt and angry, and I know she won’t go down without a fight. I need to be prepared for whatever she might throw at me.

The next few days are tense. I wait for Sarah to respond to the divorce papers, but there’s nothing. No calls, no messages. It’s as if she’s disappeared. I go about my daily routine, trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy, but the anxiety gnaws at me.

One evening, as I’m sitting in my living room, my phone rings. It’s an unknown number. I answer hesitantly.


“Michael, it’s Sarah.”

Her voice is soft, almost pleading. “We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Please, just hear me out,” she says. “Meet me at our house. I promise, it’ll be the last time.”

I hesitate, then agree. “Fine. I’ll be there in an hour.”

I drive home, my mind racing. What does she want? Is this some kind of trap? I arrive at the house and find Sarah sitting on the porch, looking small and defeated. I get out of the car and walk over to her.

“What do you want, Sarah?”

“I know I hurt you,” she begins, her voice trembling. “And I know I can’t take it back. But I need you to understand why.”

“Why?” I ask, incredulous. “Does it even matter?”

“It does to me,” she says, tears welling up in her eyes. “Please, just listen.”

I sit down, keeping my distance. She takes a deep breath and starts to speak.

“I’ve felt so lost, Michael. So disconnected. I know it’s no excuse, but I was looking for something, anything, to fill the void. When I met him, it felt like I had found it.”

I shake my head, anger boiling inside me. “So you threw away everything we had for a cheap thrill?”

“It wasn’t just that,” she insists. “I was scared. Scared of losing you, scared of being alone. And in my fear, I made the worst mistake of my life.”

I stand up, unable to listen anymore. “It’s too late, Sarah. You can’t undo what you’ve done.”

She stands too, reaching out to me. “I know. But I still love you, Michael. I always have.”

I take a step back, her words like a knife in my heart. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done this. Goodbye, Sarah.”

I walk away, leaving her sobbing on the porch. As I drive away, I feel a strange mixture of sadness and relief. It’s over. Really over. But as the days turn into weeks, I can’t shake the feeling that this is just the calm before the storm. Sarah’s silence is too perfect, too complete. And deep down, I know that this is far from the end.

Chapter Four: The Reckoning

The days turn into weeks, and life begins to settle into a new rhythm. The divorce proceedings move forward smoothly, thanks to Jake’s meticulous preparation. Sarah remains eerily silent, her presence lingering like a ghost. I throw myself into work, trying to rebuild my life from the ashes of our marriage.

One evening, I receive an unexpected call from Jake. His voice is urgent, a rare edge of concern cutting through his usual calm demeanor.

“Mike, we need to talk. Can you come to my office?”

“Sure, Jake. What’s going on?”

“Just get here. It’s important.”

I hang up, a sense of foreboding settling in my gut. The drive to Jake’s office feels longer than usual, the city lights blurring as my mind races with possibilities. When I arrive, Jake meets me at the door, his expression grim.

“What’s this about, Jake?” I ask, following him inside.

He closes the door behind us and gestures for me to sit. “We’ve been keeping an eye on Sarah, as you know. But something’s come up. Something big.”

He pulls out a file and spreads its contents on the table. Photos, documents, and a USB drive. “We found out who her lover is. His name is David Thompson.”

My heart skips a beat. “Thompson? As in…?”

“Yeah,” Jake nods. “Your half-brother.”

The revelation hits me like a punch to the gut. I barely remember David; he’s a shadow from my past, the result of my father’s infidelity. We’ve had no contact for years. The realization that Sarah’s lover is my own flesh and blood sends a cold shiver down my spine.

“Why would she…?” I begin, but Jake cuts me off.

“There’s more. We dug deeper into Sarah’s finances and found something interesting. She’s been funneling money into an offshore account. A lot of money.”

I stare at him, bewildered. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying she’s been planning this for a long time. The affair, the money – it’s all part of a bigger scheme.”

The pieces start to fall into place, forming a picture I never imagined. “She’s setting me up.”

“Exactly,” Jake says. “She and David have been plotting this for months, maybe even years. They wanted to ruin you, take everything you’ve built, and disappear.”

A mix of anger and betrayal churns inside me. “What do we do now?”

“We turn the tables,” Jake says, a determined glint in his eyes. “We expose them for what they are and make sure they pay for every bit of it.”

We spend the next few hours devising a plan. Jake’s team gathers all the evidence, ensuring we have everything we need to confront Sarah and David. The tension in the room is palpable, but I feel a sense of clarity and purpose.

The next evening, we set the plan into motion. I call Sarah, arranging to meet her at a café we used to frequent. She agrees, her voice guarded but curious. Jake and his team are stationed nearby, ready to capture every moment.

I arrive early, taking a seat near the back where I can see the entrance. Sarah walks in a few minutes later, looking nervous. She sits down across from me, her eyes searching mine for answers.

“Michael, what’s this about?”

I take a deep breath, steadying my voice. “I know everything, Sarah. About you and David. About the money. All of it.”

Her face goes pale, but she tries to keep her composure. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Stop lying,” I say, my voice firm. “We have all the evidence. You’ve been setting me up, trying to ruin me.”

For a moment, she looks like she might argue, but then her shoulders slump in defeat. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” she whispers. “David promised me…”

“Promised you what? That you’d get away with it? That you could destroy my life and walk away scot-free?”

Tears well up in her eyes, but I feel no sympathy. “I loved you, Michael. But I felt so trapped, so empty. David offered me a way out.”

“A way out by betraying me and stealing everything I’ve worked for?”

She shakes her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“It’s too late for apologies,” I say coldly. “You made your choices. Now you have to face the consequences.”

I signal to Jake, who steps forward with his team, cameras rolling. “Sarah Thompson, you’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit fraud and embezzlement.”

Sarah’s eyes widen in horror as the reality of her situation sinks in. She doesn’t resist as they place her in handcuffs, her shoulders shaking with sobs. I watch in silence, feeling a strange mix of triumph and sorrow.

As they lead her away, Jake turns to me. “You did the right thing, Mike. It’s over now.”

I nod, but deep down, I know this is only the beginning. There’s still David to deal with, and the aftermath of Sarah’s betrayal to navigate. But for the first time in months, I feel a sense of closure.

Over the next few weeks, the news of Sarah and David’s arrest spreads like wildfire. The media has a field day with the story of betrayal and deceit, and my name is cleared. I focus on rebuilding my life, finding solace in the support of friends and family.

One evening, as I’m sitting in my living room, there’s a knock at the door. I open it to find a woman standing there, holding a small child. She looks familiar, but I can’t place her.

“Michael Thompson?” she asks.

“Yes. Can I help you?”

She takes a deep breath. “My name is Emily. This is David’s daughter. And, I think, yours as well.”

The world seems to tilt on its axis as her words sink in. Emily explains that David had been using her and their daughter as pawns in his schemes. She had no idea about the affair with Sarah until it all came crashing down.

“I didn’t know who else to turn to,” she says, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry to just show up like this, but I need your help.”

I look at the child, a little girl with strikingly familiar features. My heart aches with a mix of anger and compassion. “Come in,” I say, stepping aside. “We’ll figure this out together.”

As Emily and her daughter enter my home, I realize that this unexpected turn of events is a chance for redemption. For healing. For starting anew. The road ahead is uncertain, but I know that with the truth finally out, I can begin to rebuild my life from the ground up.

And this time, I won’t be alone.

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