CEOS Darkest Secret

"You've ruined me! You've destroyed my life!"

The man shouting at me was none other than my husband, Bernard Sampson.

Six months ago, we were still civil, even loving.

Had I not witnessed that scene six months ago, perhaps we would still be living the quiet, simple happiness we once shared.

We had even been planning to have a child. But those plans—and everything else—shattered in an instant.

Along with our plans, our home fell apart.

That day six months ago was seared into my memory. Bernard had left for work at 7 a.m., as usual.

He never cared for the office cafeteria, so I would always prepare his meals, packed neatly in a lunchbox. But that morning, he forgot to take it with him.

Seeing the lonely lunchbox on the table, I called him multiple times, but none of my calls were answered. After a quick tidy-up, I decided to bring it to his office myself.

Since Bernard graduated, he'd been working at a financial firm. I was very familiar with his office.

Just as I reached his office door, I heard a woman moaning inside.

A deep sense of unease gripped me. I hesitated but eventually cracked the door open just a sliver.

The scene inside struck me like a bolt of lightning.

Papers were scattered across the floor, the desk completely cleared. A woman lay pinned on top of it, her face contorted in a mix of pain and ecstasy.

The two of them were tangled together, inseparable.

No matter what, I'd recognize that man anywhere—it was unmistakably my husband.

My hand clenched the door handle so tightly that my knuckles turned white. My tears streamed uncontrollably, like a dam bursting.

Anger and betrayal swirled within me, threatening to consume me whole.

I recognized the woman too. I'd seen her before when I visited his office. She was always by his side.

He had introduced her to me as a freshly graduated intern. Back then, I hadn't thought much of it.

Now, seeing them like this, I felt a surge of fury and despair that I couldn't begin to describe.

I wanted to storm in and destroy them both!

How dare they? How could they?

But then I thought, what would killing them accomplish? I'd only end up ruining my own life, condemned as a murderer.

Yet simply walking away felt unbearable. The injustice, the humiliation, the sheer rage—they were too much to ignore.

With trembling hands, I took out my phone and started recording the most cruel scene of my life.

It was the phone he had gifted me just the day before, the latest model with a high-definition camera—ideal for my love of photography.

He would never have guessed that the first video I'd record with it would be of him and his mistress, tangled together in betrayal.

The high-resolution lens captured every sordid detail—their movements, their expressions, every disgusting twist of their bodies.

They were utterly oblivious, lost in their sordid passion. They even changed positions several times, their shameless actions on full display.

The sight made me sick to my stomach. Disgust overtook the pain in my heart.

On the way home, I felt numb, like a ghost drifting through the streets.

Every breath felt like it was going to kill me.

The image of their intertwined bodies played on a relentless loop in my mind. I collapsed onto the pavement, clutching my head, sobbing uncontrollably.

In that moment, I felt like a stray dog, unwanted and abandoned.

Did I even have a home anymore?

As my phone buzzed incessantly, it shattered my chaotic thoughts. Even the act of answering the call drained every ounce of my energy.