“Get to the kitchen now!” the man barked at his wife. Little did he know how this would end.
“Katie, have you seen my blue tie?” called from the bedroom where David was getting ready for work.
Katherine stood by the stove, stirring porridge. Seven years of marriageevery morning the same. He rushed off to the office chasing money and success, while she moved between the cooker, saucepans, and washing machine.
“Check the top shelf in the wardrobe!” she replied.
“Its not there! Katie, are you sure?”
The woman sighed, wiped her hands, and walked to the bedroom. In the pocket of yesterdays jacket, her fingers brushed against something metal. A key. An ordinary flat key, but not one she recognised.
“David, wheres this from?” She held it out to him.
For a split second, his face froze in surprise. But he quickly composed himself and snapped, “Get back to the kitchen! Stop rummaging through my things. Its a work keyfor the storage room.”
He had no idea what was coming.
Over breakfast, David tapped away at his phone, smiling, even chuckling under his breath once or twice.
“Whos texting you?” Katherine asked carefully.
“Colleagues. Discussing a project,” he muttered without looking up.
But she caught a glimpse of the screenheart emojis and smiley faces, not files or reports.
“Ill be late tonight. A presentation, then dinner with clients. Dont wait up.”
“Dinner on a Saturday?”
“Business doesnt stop for weekends, love.”
He kissed her cheek and left, the scent of expensive cologne lingering behind.
Katherine cleared the table, sat with a cooling cup of coffee. Seven years ago, shed graduated top of her class in economics, worked at a bank, built a career. Then came the wedding…
“Why bother with work?” David had insisted. “Ill take care of everything. Focus on the house. Well have children soon…”
But the years passed, and no children came. Instead, Katherine knew every supermarket cashier by name and could recite every soap opera plot.
Yet this morning, something inside her shifted. The unfamiliar key, the emojis, the new cologne, the “work meetings” on weekends…
She opened her laptop and searched: “vacancies Horizon Business Centre.” Thats where David workedseventh floor, Progress Ltd.
A few clicks later, she found it. Clean Office Ltd was hiring evening cleaners for Horizon.
Her heart raced. Perfectstaff would be gone by then, except for those “working late.”
She dialled the number. “Hello, Im calling about the cleaner position at Horizon…”
The next day, she sat across from the supervisor, Nina.
“Have you cleaned professionally before?”
“Seven years experienceat home,” Katherine admitted.
“Why Horizon? Weve got sites closer to you.”
“The hours suit me. And… Im divorcing. Evenings are free.”
Nina gave her a sympathetic look. “Understood. Youll do. What name shall I put you down as?”
“Valerie Peterson,” Katherine answered without hesitation.
Three days later, Katherine Davies became Valerie Peterson, the new cleaner at Horizon. She got her uniform, supplies, and a brief briefing:
“Stay invisible. No chatting, no lingering. Quick, quiet, thorough. Your floorthe seventh. IT company Progress Ltd. One notethe office with D.A. Davies on the door.”
“Could I take the seventh? Ive heard its quieter. Easier to learn.”
“Fine. One girl quitsaid it was tough. If you can handle it, its yours.”
That evening, Katherine stood outside her husbands office, mop in hand. The building was dark, long past closing. But voices carried from inside.
Her plan was in motion.
Two weeks as a cleaner in Davids office revealed everything. His “late nights” had nothing to do with work. He was sneaking off to see Hannah Kramera young marketing executive from his firm.
The key in his pocket? It opened Hannahs flat in a new development.
“Im tired of hiding,” Hannah said, just as Katherine mopped the adjacent office. “When are we going public?”
“Soon, love,” David whispered. “Lawyers say we must do this right. Rush it, and I lose half the flat.”
Katherine clenched her jaw. Not just cheatinghe was scheming to leave her with nothing.
Worse came days earlier. Her mop knocked over a stack of papers. Gathering them, she spotted odd margin notes. Her economics training kicked inthese werent just reports. They were confidential financial data.
On the desk lay a work phone. A message flashed from “Laura S.”
The office was empty. She opened the chat.
*”Dave, need the Northern reports. Usual payment.”*
*”Price went up. Full package£10K.”*
*”Fine. But fast. Presentations Tuesday.”*
Katherines hands went cold. Laura Simmonsdeputy director at Vector, their biggest competitor. And her husband was selling company secrets…
She photographed everything. That night, she confirmed itthe damage ran into hundreds of thousands.
“How was work?” she asked at dinner.
“Busy. Big new projecthuge potential,” David muttered, eyes on his phone.
*The one youve already sold*, she thought.
At first, she planned to hand the evidence to management and file for divorce. Then she reconsideredhe deserved a public reckoning.
Progress Ltds quarterly party was approaching. David had prepped for weeksnew suit, rehearsed speech, practised his grin.
“Dave, what will you say about me?” Hannah asked the day before.
“Nothing. Soon we wont need secrets,” he laughed.
“What if your wife shows up?”
“She wont. These events arent her scene.”
Katherine smiled. He had no idea his “shy” wife had been watching all along.
On the night, she arrived as usualbut her bag held a sleek black dress, not a uniform. And a folder of proof.
At 7 PM, as glasses clinked in the conference room, she changed in the staff toilet, touched up her makeup, smoothed her hair.
Through the glass, she saw David in his new suit, laughing with Hannah. The CEO, Paul Richardson, held a microphone.
Perfect timing.
“Excuse memay I?” Katherine stepped inside.
Conversations died. David spun around, eyes wide.
“Im Katherine Davies. Wife of your employee,” she announced. “For the past fortnight, Ive worked here as cleaner Valerie Peterson.”
“What the hell are you doing?!” David hissed, striding toward her.
“Gathering evidence, darling. Of your infidelity… and more.” Her voice was calm, clear.
The room held its breath.
“Paul,” she addressed the CEO, “your employee has been selling confidential data to Vector. Heres his correspondence with Laura Simmons, their deputy director.”
She handed over the folder.
“Lies! Shes bitter over our affair!” David blustered.
“Bank transfers, photos of documents from his officeall documented,” Katherine added quietly.
Paul flipped through the pages, his face darkening.
“One more thing.” She produced another file. “Security footage. His office wasnt just for work.”
When the screen showed David and Hannah locked in an embrace, the girl shrieked and fled.
“David Davies, youre fired,” Paul said coldly. “And youll face legal consequences. Security!”
As guards escorted a stunned David out, silence fell. Paul approached Katherine.
“Thank you. Weve been hunting this leak for six months.”
“I just wanted to know who my husband really was. I found more than I expected.”
“You studied economics?”
“Yes, but havent worked in it for years.”
Paul studied her. “Weve a security analyst vacancy. Need someone who sees what others miss. Interested?”
Katherine almost smiled. “Very.”
A month later, her life had transformed. She was Progress Ltds new security specialist, earning triple Davids old salary.
David vanished from her world. After the scandal, his name was blacklisted across the industry.
At court, Katherine stood composed. David, slumped and unshaven, wore a crumpled shirt. Hannah had left him days after the humiliation.
“Per the settlement,” the judge read, “the marital home is split equally. The marriage is dissolved.”
Two months on, Katherine celebrated her new flata cosy two-bedroom in a leafy area, bought after selling her flat share.
Work thrived. She designed a cybersecurity system that thwarted multiple industrial espionage attempts.
Six months in, a new IT director joinedAndrew Wolfe. Divorced, relocating from London with his school-age son. They often collaborated, his respect for her evident.
“Katie, any idea where to find a decent school?” he asked one day.
“Of course. Ill show you a few after workwe can walk?”
Their friendship grewhonest, warm, no pretence. Both knew pain, both
