In the dead of night, I awoke to a faint glow in the hallway. Curious, I quietly cracked my door open. My eyes landed on the study at the end of the corridor, where a dim light spilled through the open door. Benedict sat at his desk, his broad shoulders tense as he scrolled through his phone.
Then, I saw it.
A message flashed across his screen from an unknown number.
[Benedict, I’m pregnant.]
My blood ran cold.
I clutched the doorframe, my breath hitching as I watched his reaction. He stiffened, staring at the message as if it were a death sentence.
I hacked into his accounts days ago, looking for any sign of further betrayal. And now, I have my answers.
He made his mistress pregnant.
The truth settled like a blade to my chest. I should have been angry, should have stormed in and confronted him. But instead, I felt… nothing.
I already knew the kind of man Benedict was. This only confirmed it.
Silently, I closed my door and leaned against it, pressing a hand to my chest as I forced myself to breathe.
This wasn’t heartbreak. This was freedom.
By morning, I would no longer question if leaving was the right choice.
Now, I had all the proof I needed.