Chapter 3 - The Seattle Secret
The second phone was not supposed to exist.
That was the first thought that crossed my mind.
Not the message.
Not the name.
Not the possibility that my husband had been hiding something.
Just one simple fact.
Ethan had a secret phone.
And secrets were never accidental.
I stood beside the bed, holding the device in my hand, listening to the quiet sound of his breathing.
The man I married was less than five feet away from me.
The man who had smiled at me when I walked down the aisle.
The man who had kissed my forehead before we left the reception.
The man who had whispered, “You’re my home.”
And now I was holding evidence that he had built a hidden room inside our marriage.
I looked at the screen.
One notification.
One name.
I expected Chloe.
I expected another attack.
Another accusation.
Another piece of chaos.
But it wasn’t Chloe.
It was someone else.
Someone named Marcus Reed.
I froze.
Because I knew that name.
Not personally.
But professionally.
Marcus Reed was a private investigator.
A very expensive one.
The kind of person people hired when they wanted information they weren’t supposed to have.
I unlocked the phone.
My heart was beating harder with every second.
There was no password.
That scared me more than if there had been one.
The phone wasn’t protected because Ethan didn’t expect anyone to find it.
The message from Marcus was short.
“Everything you asked for has been uploaded.”
My fingers went cold.
Uploaded.
What had Ethan asked for?
I looked through the phone.
There were only three apps.
Messages.
Email.
A secure file folder.
The folder required a password.
I tried Ethan’s birthday.
Nothing.
Our anniversary.
Nothing.
His company name.
Nothing.
I stopped.
Because I suddenly realized something.
I didn’t want to guess.
I wanted to know.
There was a difference.
Guessing was emotional.
Knowing was power.
I opened the messages again.
Only one conversation.
Marcus.
And underneath the latest message were older ones.
My eyes moved slowly.
March 14.
“Find out everything about the Seattle conference.”
March 18.
“Confirm who was there.”
March 21.
“Do not contact her.”
March 28.
“Keep watching.”
I stopped breathing.
Her.
Who was her?
I kept scrolling.
April 3.
“The wedding cannot be affected.”
April 10.
“I need the truth before I marry her.”
April 19.
“After tomorrow, everything changes.”
April 25.
My wedding day.
“Send me the final report.”
I lowered the phone.
For several seconds, I couldn’t move.
Because suddenly the story had changed.
This wasn’t a man caught in a betrayal.
This was a man investigating something before our wedding.
But why?
And why had he hidden it from me?
I looked at Ethan again.
My first instinct was anger.
Then confusion replaced it.
Then something worse.
Fear.
Because if Ethan had been investigating Seattle, maybe he wasn’t hiding an affair.
Maybe he was hiding something else.
I carefully placed the phone on the table.
Then I did something I hated.
I went through the evidence.
Not because I wanted to invade his privacy.
Because my entire future might depend on it.
The secure folder contained only one file.
A video.
Created five weeks ago.
Seattle.
I stared at the screen.
My finger hovered over it.
A part of me wanted to wake Ethan first.
A part of me wanted him to explain.
But another part of me knew the truth.
If I asked him before seeing this, I would get the version he wanted me to hear.
So I pressed play.
The video opened.
A hotel lobby appeared.
The quality was poor.
Security footage.
Timestamp.
Seattle.
Five weeks earlier.
I watched strangers walk through the lobby.
Then I saw him.
Ethan.
My husband.
Wearing the same gray coat he had worn during that business trip.
My stomach tightened.
He wasn’t alone.
A woman walked toward him.
At first, I couldn’t see her face.
Then she turned.
Chloe.
I felt my chest tighten.
They were standing together.
Talking.
Arguing.
I turned up the volume.
The audio was unclear.
Static covered most of the conversation.
But then I heard one sentence.
One sentence that changed everything.
Chloe said:
“You promised you would tell her before the wedding.”
I stopped the video.
My hand covered my mouth.
Tell me what?
I replayed it.
Again.
Again.
Same words.
“You promised you would tell her before the wedding.”
I looked at Ethan sleeping beside me.
My mind was trying to connect pieces that didn’t fit.
If Ethan and Chloe were having an affair, why would she demand that he tell me?
If Chloe was trying to destroy my marriage, why did she sound angry at him?
Something else was happening.
Something bigger.
I continued watching.
The video moved forward.
Ethan said something.
The audio was almost impossible to hear.
But Chloe’s reaction was clear.
She looked hurt.
Not angry.
Hurt.
Then she said something else.
This time, louder.
“Because she deserves to know what happened to me.”
The video ended.
Black screen.
I sat there.
Unable to move.
What happened to Chloe?
That was the question.
Not what happened between them.
What happened to her?
My phone rang.
I jumped.
Sarah.
I answered immediately.
“Did you find something?”
Her voice was tense.
“Victoria, where are you?”
“The hotel.”
“Are you alone?”
I looked at Ethan.
“No.”
There was a pause.
Then Sarah lowered her voice.
“Listen carefully. I remembered something else from yesterday.”
“What?”
“When Chloe saw me, she wasn’t scared of you.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“She was scared of Ethan.”
The room went silent.
“Sarah…”
“She kept asking if Ethan had told you the truth.”
I stood up.
“What truth?”
“I don’t know.”
“You have to know something.”
“I don’t.”
Her voice cracked slightly.
“But Victoria, there was something strange.”
“What?”
“She didn’t act like a woman trying to steal your husband.”
I looked at the second phone.
“What did she act like?”
Sarah answered quietly.
“Like someone trying to warn you.”
I ended the call.
Slowly.
Then I looked back at the second phone.
The secure folder.
The hidden messages.
The investigation.
The Seattle footage.
Everything pointed to one thing.
Ethan knew something.
Something about Chloe.
Something about Seattle.
Something about the five weeks before our wedding.
I opened the video folder again.
This time, I noticed another file.
Not a video.
A photograph.
The file name was simple.
“Victoria.”
My heart stopped.
Why did Ethan have a photo with my name?
I opened it.
The image loaded.
It was a picture of me.
Taken from a distance.
I was leaving my office three weeks earlier.
Someone had been watching me.
My hands began to shake.
Because suddenly I understood.
Ethan wasn’t only hiding information from me.
Someone had been tracking my life before my wedding day.
And the next message on the hidden phone appeared before I could close the screen.
It was from Marcus.
It said:
“Ethan, I found the person who has been following Victoria.”
I stared at the message.
May you like
Then another line appeared beneath it.
“The person is standing outside the hotel right now…”
