Chapter 3

Chapter 3

That scumbag was my new boyfriend—I’d only been seeing him for two months.

We’d met in a coffee shop.

One afternoon, I’d just bought my coffee and was about to leave when my high heel slipped. I lost my balance and almost fell—luckily, he’d been nearby and caught me.

But his clothes took the hit. The coffee spilled all over his chest, soaking his white shirt and tie. The liquid dripped down his torso onto his shoes and the floor—total chaos.

“I’m so sorry, sir! I really am!”

I apologized quickly and fumbled for tissues to wipe him down.

At the time, I thought: he’d been kind enough to help me, and I’d ruined his clothes.

“It’s fine. I’m off work now—I’ll just go home and wash it later.”

He wore a gentle smile, but there was a flicker of cunning in his eyes behind his glasses.

Even though he said it was okay, I couldn’t let it go. So I asked for his contact info, planning to compensate him.

I called him when I got home, but he didn’t pick up. So I added him on WeChat instead.

But he refused to accept my money transfer. In the end, I bought two suits of the same style (different sizes) and sent them to him. We got to know each other bit by bit after that.

His name was Eric Lawson. He worked in another district—he’d just been in my area that day for something, and ended up getting coffee spilled all over him by me.

He was nice enough, I guess—I didn’t dislike him. When he showered me with care, flowers, and gifts, I knew what he was after. So we got together naturally.

But after Vivian Grant met him once, she’d complained to me: “There’s something off about him… I can’t put my finger on it.”

“We’ll see. It’s not like I’ve got anything to lose.” I’d shrugged it off, not thinking much of it.

Eric Lawson sometimes had to work overtime. Vivian and I, though, bolted the second work ended—determined to be the first ones out the door. Eric would tease us about it.

“You two ladies—even if you never worked a day in your lives, you’d still live like princesses. Us office workers? We can’t even sneak a break without feeling guilty.”

I didn’t deny it; I just nodded in agreement.

“Well, you’re not wrong about that.”

Once, Adrian Foster saw us walking together. True to form, he was as sharp-tongued as ever—his face twisted into a look of disdain.

“Anna, this is your boyfriend?”

“So what if he is?”

Adrian leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Your taste is still as terrible as it was 20 years ago…”

If we hadn’t been on the street (and I’d had to keep my cool), I would’ve punched him right then and there. I felt my face burn with embarrassment and anger.

“Adrian Foster! Who do you think you’re talking to?!”

My hands balled into fists. This guy just couldn’t stand seeing me happy—he had to insult me. Such a big mouth.

When he saw me lose my temper, Adrian slipped away fast. He even waved tauntingly at me before he left.

But who would’ve thought Vivian Grant and Adrian Foster’s mouths were like fortune-tellers—their jokes would actually come true.

Eric, who was usually so calm, started acting flustered on the phone sometimes. But he’d always rush to explain it away—saying he’d just run a little and was out of breath.

Another time, we went to a restaurant for dinner. I spotted a faint red mark on his shirt collar. Eric said he’d accidentally touched his collar after stamping a contract with his fingerprint.

I just smiled and said nothing—like I believed him. We kept chatting and eating like normal.

But once a seed of doubt is planted, it grows. Most people only believe what they see with their own eyes and hear with their own ears.

So I secretly hid a tiny tracker in the tie clip I gave Eric. Then I took his hand and acted coquettish.

“I had this tie clip custom-made by a designer. You have to wear it all the time, okay? And when you wear it, you have to think of me—got it?”

Eric pulled me into a hug, his face soft with a doting expression. But behind his glasses, there was a flash of calculation and greed—he couldn’t hide it.

“Of course I’ll wear it every day. I think about Anna every second of every day…”

Maybe he was afraid I’d check up on him. Or maybe he thought the tie clip made him look more upscale. Either way, Eric really did wear it every day. I’d often glance at the location info on my phone and joke with Vivian.

“When do you think we’ll get to see the big drama?”

“You’re the one in the middle of the gossip now, Anna… Isn’t it exciting?” Vivian winked at me, a grin playing on her lips.

“But knowing men—they never take long to slip up.”

Vivian’s eyes sparkled with shrewdness. She’d had her fair share of fun with men. If Ethan Wells hadn’t finally won her over, she’d probably still be playing around with young guys.

No wonder we said Vivian’s mouth was like a fortune-teller’s. Two days later, my phone showed Eric had gone to a hotel.

What goes on in a hotel?

What does go on in a hotel?

He’d rushed there right after work—tch… Typical man.

Luckily, the hotel was close. I grabbed my bag, dragged Vivian along, and headed over to watch the show. I was determined to be the first to get the tea.

Vivian knew the drill—she called the manager, who immediately bowed and scraped, ready to do anything we asked.

I took the room key, got on the elevator, and listened at the door.

Eric’s usually gentle voice was now rough, and he was spouting all sorts of lewd garbage.

That’s when I knew—it was time. I hurried downstairs and called the police.

“Officer, I want to report a prostitution ring at [Hotel Name] in [District].”

I couldn’t hide the smile on my face.

He thought he could cheat on me and get away with it? Dream on!

Hahaha… This would ruin him!

You have to hand it to the police—they acted fast. Soon enough, Eric and a woman stumbled out of the room, half-dressed, their hair messy, their faces flushed.

And Vivian and I “just happened” to walk in from outside and 撞见 them.

I stared at Eric with a “shocked” expression, my eyes filled with “heartbreak.” I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

Eric tried to shout and explain himself when he saw me, but the officers didn’t give him a chance—they dragged him away.

I dropped the “victim” act and exchanged a grin with Vivian.

“Hahaha… That was so satisfying!”

“What face does he have left now?”

But Eric had a thicker skin than we thought. After all, this probably wasn’t his first time sneaking off to a hotel with another woman. And yet, every time he saw me, he acted like nothing was wrong—totally calm.

After dealing with Eric, I was in such a good mood. To celebrate, we went out for dinner and then hit a bar.

Since it was a happy day, we splurged and booked ten male escorts on the spot!

After a few drinks, I felt lightheaded—my whole body seemed to float. I swayed my slim waist to the DJ’s beats, every move exuding a subtle allure that tugged at the hearts of everyone around me.

Luckily, Vivian had thought ahead—she’d called her boyfriend Ethan Wells to come pick us up later.

But who would’ve thought Ethan would bring that damn guy along too!