The Mosquito’s Blood Chapter 2

My gaze drifted downward. The bold, black letters on the cover of the file seared into my eyes.

DIVORCE AGREEMENT.

Aidan had already signed it. His familiar, elegant script, the same script I’d seen just a minute ago on our handwritten vows, was now scrawled across this sterile white paper.

He knew I loved old traditions, so he’d insisted on writing our vows himself.

And now, that same hand had signed away our future.

I pinched myself, hard. The pain was real, but this nightmare didn’t end.

The sharp edge of the paper sliced my finger. A drop of red bloomed on the agreement, a stark contrast to the white page. It reminded me of the handfasting cord we’d tied around our wrists at the wedding.

The vibration of my phone pulled me back.

The screen displayed the year: 2025. Seven years after our wedding day.

A message from someone named ‘Mark’: [Mr. Scott is driving towards Riverside Park. Destination is likely the West End.]

I scrolled up. The chat was filled with reports on Aidan’s every move.

And photos of him with a woman who lived in the West End.

According to the chat history, I’d hired this private investigator three months ago.

A week ago, I’d asked him for detailed information on the woman, preparing for a confrontation.

[Eva Vance, 27, from Oakhaven.]

[Started as an intern at Mr. Scott’s company three years ago, later promoted to his personal assistant.]

[Contact info is..., but Ms. Hayes, confronting her directly right now might not be the best move.]

The P.I., probably used to these messy situations, was advising caution.

I never made that call.

My fingers traced over the intimate photos on my screen, zooming in again and again.

A hot burn started behind my eyes, and soon, tears blurred the screen into a watery mess.

Before I could dial her number, her name flashed across my screen. An incoming call.

“Took you long enough to answer.”

Eva’s voice was light, laced with an unmistakable thread of triumph. “Weren’t you desperate to meet me?”