Id been feeling for ages that something was off with my husband, James. He was jumpy, always staying late at work, whispering on the phone and hanging up the second I walked in. His eyes were distantlike he was avoiding me, almost scared of me.
I tried not to jump to conclusions, but jealousy ate me up inside. Everything pointed to an affairlate nights, weird texts hed delete straight away, the smell of perfume on his clothes. I was sure of ithe had someone else.
In desperation, I did something drasticI hid a camera in his office. I thought if I saw another woman, itd hurt, but at least Id know the truth.
When I finally watched the footage, my heart stopped. Id have *preferred* catching him with another woman over *this*…
I nervously hit play. On screen, a woman appearedyoung, glamorous, in a bright pink dress with sparkling earrings and heavy makeup. My first thought? *Thats her. The other woman.*
James walked up to her warmly. They hugged like old friends, chatting away, laughingthe kind of smile he hadnt given me in months. My heart shattered.
I almost turned it off, but something made me keep watching.
After a few minutes, they lowered their voices. The woman pulled a folder from her bagphotos of different people, dates, strange notes scribbled on them. James studied them carefully, asking questions, discussing details.
*”This one talks too much,”* the woman in pink said. *”Best take care of him before the months out.”*
James nodded and scribbled something in a notebook.
My blood ran cold. They werent planning an affairthey were planning *murders*. Covering tracks, discussing payments, whod handle what. Those smiles, the jokesit all turned to pure horror.
Id been jealous of another woman. Now? I *wished* thats all it was. Because the truth? My husband wasnt cheatinghe was helping that woman plot real, cold-blooded killings.
