No One Recognized Me After Beauty Treatment Chapter 2

The more I thought about it, the more suffocated I felt. I hailed a cab and headed straight to the downtown headquarters of Vanguard Corp, my husband Tristan's company.

Tristan was in the middle of an executive board meeting. I punched in the private passcode to the executive lounge and waited.

Ten minutes later, the double doors opened. Tristan walked out, surrounded by a dozen vice presidents and directors.

The second our eyes met, my emotional dam broke.

"Tristan..."

I sobbed, rushing forward to throw my arms around him.

We had been together since high school. Twenty years of history. He could never stand to see me cry. Usually, the moment a single tear fell, he would panic more than my own father ever did.

I was desperate to tell him what happened at the house. But before I could even get the words out, a brutal force shoved me backward.

My spine slammed into the marble wall. The impact knocked the wind out of me, and black spots danced in my vision.

"What the hell are you doing?"

I looked up. Tristan was ripping a silk handkerchief from his pocket, frantically scrubbing the lapel of his suit where I had touched him, looking absolutely nauseated.

He glared at me, his eyes cold and unfamiliar.

"Miss, have some self respect. I am a married man."

A chorus of mocking laughter erupted from the executives in the hallway.

"Did she not do her research? The CEO is famous for being obsessed with his wife. Try your cheap gold digger tricks somewhere else!"

Ignoring the shooting pain in my back, I scrambled up and grabbed his sleeve.

"It's me! I'm Victoria! I'm your wife! Are you keeping another woman behind my back? Is that what this is?"

Before I could finish the sentence, a stinging slap cracked across my cheek.

"You psycho!" Tristan hissed. "You don't deserve to speak her name! If you don't back off right now, I'll have you arrested for harassment."

Looking at his guarded, hostile eyes, ice flooded my veins.

Servants could be bought with enough cash. But Tristan? He was already wildly wealthy because of our marriage. He couldn't be bought.

This man who had worshipped the ground I walked on was clearly in on the conspiracy. He wasn't just trying to humiliate me.

Was he cheating? Was he having an affair with one of the maids and trying to gaslight me out of my own life?

I knew arguing in the lobby was pointless. The louder I screamed, the crazier I looked.

I had to find the truth myself.

Swallowing the bitter taste of blood in my mouth, I turned and walked out of the building to the sound of corporate executives laughing at my expense.

The second I hit the sidewalk, I pulled out my phone.

Before my father passed away, he had been a highly paranoid titan of industry. He insisted on wiring our entire estate with a hidden, encrypted surveillance network. Only I had the master access codes.

I always thought he was being dramatic. I never expected to actually need it to survive a betrayal.

I sat in a coffee shop for three hours, scrubbing through the estate's security footage from the last three years.

The conclusion was absolute.

The chances of Tristan cheating were basically zero. He played the perfect, devoted husband. He never brought women home. He never even lingered near the female staff. If a maid ever tried to flirt with him, she was fired the very next morning.

So if he wasn't having an affair, why the hell was he pretending not to know me?

Right as the question crossed my mind, my phone buzzed.

It was the elite private kindergarten. In all the violent chaos, I had completely forgotten to pick up my daughter.