The Breakup Agency

Name: The Breakup Agency
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Lusa Roncone

Modern | Completed

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I was originally ready to go on a business trip, but the company canceled it at the last minute. When I returned home dragging my suitcase, I saw a little girl coming out of the bathroom just after taking a shower. What was going on?

Betrayal Revenge Kickass Heroine

Chapter 8 The Turning Point At The Product Launch

12-10 16:12

Chapter 1 Husband's Affair

Returning home unexpectedly from a canceled business trip, I was greeted by a young woman wrapped in a towel.

She had just stepped out of the bathroom, her hair damp and cheeks flushed. Her eyes widened as she saw me walk through the door.

Moments later, my husband, Derek Reid, appeared from the bedroom. His tie was askew, and he looked like he had hastily dressed. The bedroom door behind him was open, and the curtained room exuded a peculiar, unsettling smell.

Instinctively, I felt something inappropriate had transpired between them.

Before I could speak, Derek hurriedly explained, "Vanessa, this is Kaitlin Curtis, the daughter of my business partner, Mr. Jonathan Curtis. I just ran into her nearby. Since it started raining, I invited her over to dry off and change into clean clothes."

The young woman's eyes lit up as she flashed a bright smile and greeted me warmly, "Hello, Mrs. Reid! Sorry for disturbing you and Mr. Reid!"

She looked barely in her twenties, and her cheerful greeting felt almost disarming.

I managed a polite smile despite my suspicions. "Not at all. Let me know if you need anything else."

I set down my suitcase and umbrella. Derek quickly helped me with my shoes. "I'll take her home now. I just called Mr. Curtis."

The two of them left in the rain, and once they were gone, I hesitantly stepped into the bedroom. Near the bed, the trash bin was filled with crumpled tissues.

The oppressive atmosphere of the room, combined with the nauseating smell of sex, made me feel like I couldn't stay a moment longer.

After quickly packing a small bag, I sent Derek a message, "I forgot an important file at home and came back to grab it. Drive safely, it's slippery in the rain."

His response came quickly, "Safe travels, honey."

Through the screen, I could almost imagine the two of them laughing together.

I put my phone away and drove to our rarely-used suburban villa. My mind churned with chaotic thoughts as I navigated the rain-slicked roads.

Could Derek really be having an affair?

I'd always had a strong personality, perhaps too much for him at times. It wasn't impossible for him to seek comfort in someone younger, softer, and more compliant.

But over the years, it was my perseverance and hard work that had propelled Vanguard Corporation to success. If it weren't for me, Derek wouldn't be enjoying his current success. And now, he was using our shared achievements to indulge another woman, while that young woman shamelessly reaped the rewards of my relentless efforts.

It was beyond infuriating.

But I wasn't someone who could be easily trampled on.

Rage surged within me, making my hands tremble as I gripped the steering wheel tighter. My foot instinctively pressed harder on the gas, and the car sped past a turn I should have taken. Realizing my mistake, I slammed on the brakes, swerving to regain control. The car skidded but finally steadied.

Once my pulse calmed, I turned on the car's music system and let a love song fill the space, forcing myself to think of nothing and focus on the drive.

At the villa, I poured myself a glass of red wine and sat on the sofa, trying to steady my emotions.

First, I needed to uncover the truth. Suspicions were just that-suspicions. Facts mattered most.

I knew of Jonathan Curtis, Derek's key partner at Seabright Group. While we hadn't interacted, I quickly confirmed that his daughter, Eloise Curtis, was studying abroad.

A business partner's daughter taking a shower at our home? It was a ludicrous lie, showing just how reckless Derek had become. Love really did make people lose their senses.

As I stewed in frustration, my phone buzzed. It was Leon Anderson, my long-time assistant and a trusted confidant. "Mrs. Reid, I looked into it. There's a personal trainer named Kaitlin at a gym near Seabright Group," he reported. he reported. Shortly after, he sent me a photo.

It was her-the young woman in the towel.

Despite the evidence, I couldn't help but cling to a shred of denial. I asked Leon to dig into Derek's hotel records from the past six months. While I waited, I sipped my wine, one glass after another, until the alcohol blurred the edges of my thoughts.

Eventually, Leon's message came through. Attached was a list of hotel stays, all tying Derek and Kaitlin together, starting four months ago.

The truth, though anticipated, still struck like a dagger. My chest tightened, and silent tears streamed down my face.

Reaching for the decanter, I poured the remaining wine into my glass and drank until I was numb.

Time blurred as the alcohol roiled in my stomach. At some point, I felt it surge back up, burning my throat. I collapsed onto the floor, surrounded by the red spill that mirrored a pool of blood.

Through tear-filled eyes, I gazed out the window at the city lights. They shone in all their brilliance, indifferent to my despair.