The Housewife Was the CEO,My Cheating Husband Lost Everything

My husband was famous for being a devoted, caring partner. After we got married, he insisted I quit my job to become a stay-at-home wife so I wouldn't have to work hard anymore. Right before we were supposed to drive out to his parents' place in the countryside, I found a used pair of black lace panties hidden under the spare tire in his trunk. I recognized the style instantly. Chloe, an intern at his firm, had posted them on her Snapchat story. Her caption back then was: "My new armor. Wishing myself good luck tonight." Logan had liked the story. He even replied with a comment: "You'll definitely get lucky." Turns out, her "good luck" was a wild night in bed with my husband. I snapped photos of everything and shut the trunk. It seemed I had been treating him far too well, letting him completely forget how he got to where he is today. Turning around, I noticed the dashboard screen in the car was still lit up. There was an active parking record on the console. Three nights ago, at 11:47 PM, the car was parked in the underground garage of a luxury hotel downtown. It didn't leave until 9:00 AM the next morning. That night, Logan had told me he was out drinking and entertaining clients for work. I had actually felt bad for him back then, waiting up for him all night. A wave of sheer disgust washed over me. He wasn't working—he was sleeping with someone else. Even this Range Rover was something I gave him. It was a company car registered under Cen Holdings. Knowing how demanding his career was, I had handed him the keys on his thirtieth birthday. He hugged me tight back then, saying, "Jane, you're the best thing that ever happened to me." He even swore that once he made it big, he'd give me the world. I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves. After taking photos of the screen, I sent a message on WhatsApp to my executive assistant, Marcus. "Archive the car's GPS history, Bluetooth connections, and parking logs." "Audit all of Chloe's expense reports from the past six months, and pull the full transaction history on Logan's secondary card." Marcus replied almost instantly. "On it, Ms. Cen. Should I have Legal and Internal Audit step in as well?" I texted back: "Secure the evidence first. Don't tip them off." "Freeze his secondary card." After sending the texts, I took the panties and headed up to the second floor. Logan was standing on the terrace, on a call with his back to me. The glass sliding door was cracked open. His voice was hushed, but his tone was dripping with tenderness. "Don't worry, baby, I've got it all handled." "I'm dragging the hag out to my parents' place. She won't be breathing down my neck." "I hid your panties in the car. I'll bring them back when I return." "Be a good girl, don't be mad. I'll be back to spend the holiday with you." Standing outside the door, I quietly tapped the voice memo app on my phone to record. A "hag." So that was what I had become in his eyes. The tenderness in his voice left me in a brief daze. It was in such sharp contrast to the impatient bark he had given me just minutes earlier when telling me to pack. Logan had dumped the gifts for his parents right by the front door, his tone full of annoyance. "Put the massage chair in the back. Mom specifically said we have to bring it this time." "And don't forget those two boxes of high-end supplements." I had looked up at him. "Can't you load them yourself?" Logan had paused, clearly caught off guard by my pushback. "What is your problem today?" "I'm the one driving for hours later. Is it going to kill you to load a few boxes?" I hadn't said another word. He had grown colder and more impatient with me by the day, making me almost forget how gently he used to make promises to me. Back before he had any of this success, we shared a tiny bed in a cramped studio apartment. Holding me in his arms, he used to make those same sweet promises. Looking back now, the moment I handed him those car keys, he began treating the company car, the corporate funds, and every resource I gave him as achievements he had earned entirely on his own. He began looking down on me as an unemployed housewife with zero income. He convinced himself I wasn't worth the effort anymore, showering all his love and money on that intern instead. He brushed aside my needs while taking Chloe's side on everything. I had spent so long lying to myself, thinking maybe he was just bad at setting professional boundaries. The harsh truth was, he just never cared about me at all. I walked back into the living room and tossed the lace underwear into the trash can. Right as I finished tying up the bag, the terrace door slid open. Logan stepped inside. Seeing me still sitting on the couch, his brow immediately furrowed. "Why haven't you finished packing?" "Mom's making stew, waiting for us to get there." He walked over and reached out to touch my forehead. "Why are you looking so pale? If you're not feeling well, just say so. Don't mess up our schedule." I tilted my head, pulling away from his touch. His hand froze mid-air, and his fleeting concern instantly turned into annoyance. "Jane, what kind of tantrum are you throwing now?" I stood up, opened the trash can, and picked the underwear back out. I walked right up to him and held it out. "You forgot your stuff." The moment Logan saw what was in my hand, all the color drained from his face. I let go. The lace panties dropped right beside his leather dress shoes. "Chloe's battle armor. Aren't you taking it with you?"The lace panties lay right at Logan's feet. His face flushed crimson for a split second before darkening with anger. "Jane, have you lost your damn mind?" He didn't ask how I knew Chloe's name. Nor did he ask why I found it in his car. I stared at him coldly. "Aren't you going to explain?" "Explain what?" He bent down, snatched the underwear, and threw it straight back into the trash. "She must've dropped it by accident." "Making a scene over something like this—don't you have any shame?" I challenged him, "Under the spare tire? Dropped by accident?" Logan's face grew even uglier. "Chloe's just an intern! I look out for her because her family's struggling financially." "She's a young girl fresh out of college, completely clueless about the corporate world. What's wrong with me giving her a helping hand?" "Can you grow up and stop acting so childish?" I pulled out my phone and shoved the hotel parking record right in his face. "Three nights ago. Are you still going to tell me you were just out drinking with a client?" Logan stared at the screen, his lips trembling slightly. "The client was staying there last minute. I just drove him over." "The car stayed parked there all night. If you just dropped him off, why didn't you leave?" "I had drinks! I couldn't drive!" His voice raised, echoing through the room. "I bust my ass at the office until midnight every single day, working myself to the bone for this family!" "Instead of appreciating me, you're tracking my car?" "You sit at home all day doing absolutely nothing. Aside from suspecting me, what are you actually good for?" This was the first time he had dared to tell me to my face that I did nothing. I didn't bother arguing. Because he had no idea that the very company he boasted about was built by me and my father before we ever got married. He had no idea that behind every single major contract he closed, my fingerprints were all over it. I had simply never rubbed it in his face. Just then, the doorbell rang. Logan instantly swallowed his rage and hurried over to open the door. Chloe was standing on the porch. She wore an elegant sundress, her hair styled in soft, bouncy curls, holding a leather portfolio in her hands. Seeing me inside, she paused briefly, then flashed a bright, polite smile. "Jane! Long time no see." I didn't say a word. Chloe handed the portfolio to Logan. "Logan, you left the project files in the study. You mentioned wanting to review them on the road, so I brought them over for you." On a holiday, she went out of her way to deliver files directly to my house. Logan took the folder, his posture stiff and awkward. Chloe let her gaze wander around the living room before finally settling on the master bedroom door. "Logan, your place is gorgeous." "Is that the bedroom you share with Jane?" She said it so naturally, practically dripping with calculated familiarity. Logan didn't do a thing to stop her. Instead, he just gave me an irritated look. "Chloe needs to grab another file from the study. Walk her over." I casually picked up my glass of water and took a sip. "The study is down the hall to the left. She already knows the way." Chloe’s eyes welled with tears instantly. "Does Jane not want me here?" "I honestly just came to grab the file. I didn't mean to delay your trip back to your family." She took a step forward, suddenly twisted her ankle, and pitched straight toward Logan. Logan lunged forward, catching her firmly in his arms. "Careful!" He looked down at Chloe, his voice tight with panic. "Did you sprain your foot?" Resting in his chest, Chloe shook her head softly. "I'm fine." She glanced up at me, a subtle glimmer of triumph in her eyes. "It just feels like Jane doesn't really like me." Logan steadied her, then spun toward me in fury. "Jane, stop embarrassing me in front of company." "Show her to the study." Looking at the two of them, I felt a sudden urge to laugh out loud. "She's hardly company." Logan’s face changed. Chloe froze as well. I took my time finishing the sentence. "Someone who rides in your car to luxury suites, charges your corporate card, and knows all about your delicate stomach—how could she possibly be an outsider?" "As the actual outsider here, I won't waste any more time watching your little melodrama." A flash of panic finally broke through Chloe’s innocent mask. Logan scowled deeply. "What kind of nonsense are you babbling?" "Whether it’s nonsense or not, you both know perfectly well." Chloe bit her lip, murmuring in a meek voice, "Jane, Logan’s stomach has been acting up lately. The doctor told him to cut back on espresso and stick to warm water." "Since you're home all day with so much free time, you really should take better care of him." "I know you don't like me, but please don't take it out on Logan." I looked her dead in the eye. "If his stomach is so bad, why were you drinking aged scotch with him in a hotel suite at two in the morning?" "Chloe, your expense report claimed that was client entertainment. The suite, the alcohol, and breakfast came out to twenty-eight hundred dollars." Her face turned paper-white. Logan snapped his head toward me. "You're tracking my finances?" I replied flatly, "Every cent spent on the corporate account is subject to review." Before Chloe could stammer an excuse, Logan pulled a sleek black card from his wallet and shoved it into her hand. "Ignore her." "Go buy yourself a new designer dress. Don't let this ruin your day." Gripping the card, Chloe’s smug arrogance returned. The very next second, her phone pinged. A push alert from the banking app flashed across her screen. "Your credit card ending in 8896 has been suspended." The triumphant smile froze on Chloe’s face. Logan snatched his phone from his pocket as an identical alert lit up his screen. "Dear cardholder, the corporate secondary card under your name has been suspended. Please contact Accounting." He stared at me, his eyes a mix of pure shock and blinding rage. "Did you do this?" I took a slow sip from my glass. "That card belongs to the corporation. It wasn't issued for you to fund your mistress."Chloe left in tears. Logan didn't bother walking her out. He stood frozen in the living room, glaring at the card suspension notice on his phone, his face twisted in sheer hostility. "Jane, who did you call?" "By what authority did you freeze my card?" I didn't answer. At that exact moment, my chronic migraine flared up violently. My vision blurred into darkness. I gripped the corner of the dining table to keep myself from collapsing. Seeing how pale I was, Logan took half a step forward. He still remembered that my prescription painkillers were kept in the second drawer of the media console. Then his phone rang. It was Chloe. Logan answered immediately, and Chloe’s tear-choked voice leaked through the speaker. "Logan, I feel so dizzy." "My blood sugar crashed, and I'm all alone in my apartment." Logan glanced at me, then looked back down at the glowing screen. Without another thought, he snatched his car keys off the counter. "I'm taking her to the ER." Leaning heavily against the table, I asked under my breath, "Logan, I can barely stand from this headache, and you're leaving to take her to the hospital?" He scowled, looking at me as if I were being entirely unreasonable. "She lives alone! What if something happens to her?" "You get migraines all the time. Your pills are in the drawer. Take them yourself." The front door slammed shut behind him. Silence fell over the living room. I pushed myself off the table, walked to the media console, took two pills, and swallowed them with warm water. Logan had left his personal phone behind on the coffee table. When the screen lit up with a notification, I saw a text from his mother on Snapchat. "Logan, how far out are you?" "The beef roast is almost done." "Chloe mentioned she loves spicy food, so I prepared that special pepper dip for her." "Make sure she feels right at home when you bring her. No need for her to feel shy." Staring at those lines, my fingers tightened around the phone. So this affair wasn't Logan’s private secret at all. His parents had known about Chloe for a long time. They had already reserved my place at the family table for her. An hour later, Logan walked back in. He brought the sharp stench of hospital antiseptic with him, and the collar of his shirt reeked of Chloe’s sweet, heavy perfume. He flipped the lights on. Seeing me sitting quietly on the couch, his brows knitted together. "Why are you sitting in the dark?" "Did the headache pass?" I slid his phone across the coffee table toward him. The screen displayed the messages from his mother. Logan’s expression locked up. "You went through my phone?" I looked at him. "Your mother wanted you to bring Chloe out to the family house?" "Mom was just talking nonsense." "She's getting older, she doesn't understand modern social boundaries." "Don't take it personally." I held his gaze. "She even knows Chloe's exact taste in food." "And you're still going to stand there and call it casual nonsense?" Logan stayed silent. His phone buzzed with an incoming FaceTime request from his mother. He hesitated for a second before answering. His mother’s stern face filled the screen. "Logan, why aren't you here yet?" "Is that woman holding you back again?" Logan blurted out, "Mom, stop it." His mother didn't hold back. "Am I wrong?" "A barren woman who hasn't given you a single child in five years of marriage—what good is keeping her around?" "Chloe is young, ambitious, and actually knows how to take care of a man." "Hurry up and bring her over. Your father and I adore her." Logan hurriedly terminated the call. The living room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. I asked, "In your mother's eyes, I'm just a barren woman?" "Jane, you've always known she has a sharp tongue." "She said that to your face, and you still wouldn't say a single word to defend me?" Logan rubbed his temples in frustration. "Do we really have to pick a fight over this right now?" "Let's just go visit them first. When we get back, I swear I'll cut all ties with Chloe." He stepped toward me, reaching out to take my hand. "We've been married for five years. Don't you trust me at all?" I looked down at his outstretched hand and didn't move. Five years ago, this very hand slipped a diamond ring onto my finger. He had knelt before me, swearing that no matter what happened, he would always stand by my side. Throughout our five years of marriage, he called me "Jane" with endless warmth. When I had high fevers, he stayed by my bed, replacing damp cloths on my forehead. When my migraines flared up, he would draw the blackout curtains and prepare my medication. I truly believed that was love. It turned out to be nothing more than a disguise he hadn't yet found the opportunity to strip away. I stood up and walked toward the study. Logan let out a heavy sigh of relief, assuming I had finally conceded to accompany him on the trip. He immediately looked down at his phone to text Chloe: "She caved." Inside the study, I opened the wall safe and pulled out a thick leather portfolio. It contained three key documents. The first was a draft of a divorce petition drawn up by Ethan Vance. The second was a formal asset preservation injunction and a legal demand notice. The third was the preliminary forensic audit report that Marcus had just forwarded to me. The report detailed that over the past two years, Logan had charged massive personal expenses to the corporate account. Chloe’s designer bags, luxury hotel suites, the down payment on her sports car, and the rent for her luxury downtown apartment were all listed. More critically, three major external vendors showed suspicious fund transfers funneling directly into shell companies controlled by Chloe’s cousin. I carried the portfolio back into the living room. At the exact same moment, Logan’s phone buzzed violently again. System alerts from the bank and corporate servers poured in simultaneously. His executive card, the company car authorization, and all administrative sign-off privileges were completely revoked. He stared at his screen, the color draining from his face second by second. "What the hell is going on?" I dropped the portfolio on the table in front of him. "You're about to find out." The loose papers spilled across the floor, the divorce petition resting right on top. Logan scooped it up, scanned the header, and snapped his head toward me. "You're divorcing me?"