Eleanor wanted to believe him. A part of her, the part that remembered the man who once adored her, desperately needed his explanation to be true.
- «Her husband?» Eleanor repeated quietly.
- «Greg Rhodes. Works at Goldman Sachs. You met him at the Christmas party.»
Victor’s details were specific, convincing.
- «Do you really think so little of me, Eleanor? That I would have an affair with a married, pregnant woman?»
Phrased like that, it did sound absurd. Eleanor felt doubt creeping in.
- «The person who sent this implied…»
- «Who sent it?» Victor cut in, suddenly sharp. «Sounds like someone is trying to stir up trouble. Probably jealous of our success.»
When Eleanor admitted she didn’t know, Victor nodded knowingly.
- «Anonymous accusations aren’t worth your energy. Now, I need to review some contracts before dinner.»
As Victor left the room, Eleanor was left with a familiar sense of disorientation, the feeling that perhaps she was the unreasonable one, seeing problems where there were none. It was a feeling that had become more frequent since her accident. But something about Victor’s perfect explanation didn’t sit right. She lay awake that night long after Victor had fallen asleep, her mind replaying the small inconsistencies in his behavior over the past few months.
The next morning, Eleanor made a decision. If Victor was telling the truth, there was nothing to worry about. But if he wasn’t…
- «Agnes,» she called to their housekeeper, «I’d like to do some online shopping this afternoon. Could you help me set up my laptop in Victor’s study? The light is better in there.»
Once she was alone in Victor’s office, Eleanor moved quickly. First, she installed a small, wireless camera she had ordered weeks ago for «security purposes,» concealing it among the books on Victor’s shelf. Then, she began searching his desk drawers. Most held routine business papers, but deep in the bottom drawer, she found a small, unfamiliar key. Pocketing it, she continued her search until Agnes called her for lunch.
Over the next week, Eleanor established a new routine. Each day, while Victor was at work, she would review the footage from the hidden camera, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Most evenings, Victor spent a few hours in his study, reviewing documents or making calls. Nothing suspicious.
Then came Tuesday. Victor went into his study at his usual time, but he locked the door, which he rarely did. Eleanor watched the live feed on her tablet as he made a call, his voice too low to make out, but his expression was undeniably intimate. His smile was private. After the call, Victor unlocked a hidden compartment in his desk with the small key Eleanor had found—a compartment that had seemed empty during her search. He removed what looked like a small black ledger, made a few entries, then returned it and locked the compartment again.
The next day, while Victor was at a construction site, Eleanor used the key she’d found. The black book was a private ledger, documenting transfers to offshore accounts not mentioned in any of their joint financial statements. Large sums—hundreds of thousands of dollars—were being moved to numbered accounts in the Cayman Islands. More damning were the notes in the margins: Apartment deposit. Car. Medical. Olivia.
Eleanor photographed every page before putting the book back exactly as she’d found it.
That afternoon, she called Diane, her former colleague from the early days of Miller-Chin.
- «Eleanor! It’s been too long,» Diane sounded genuinely happy to hear from her. «How are you?»
- «Getting by,» Eleanor replied. «Diane, I need to ask you something, in confidence. Do you know anything about a project manager named Olivia Rhodes?»
There was a pause.
- «Olivia? Young, stunning, always impeccably dressed, maybe early thirties?»
- «Sounds right. She’s been with Miller for about a year.»
- «The rising star.» Diane hesitated. «Eleanor… there have been whispers. About Victor. He seems to be taking a special interest in her career. Late meetings, private lunches. The office rumor mill goes into overtime when they’re together.» Diane sighed. «I didn’t want to say anything without proof. After everything you’ve been through.»
Eleanor’s suspicion crystallized into certainty.
- «Thank you for being honest.»
- «One more question. Is she married to a guy named Greg Rhodes?»
Diane’s laugh confirmed what Eleanor already knew.
- «Olivia? No, she’s definitely not married. Makes a point of it, actually.»
After she hung up, Eleanor felt a strange calm. The pain of confirmation was mixed with the relief of knowing she wasn’t imagining things, she wasn’t paranoid. That evening, she watched Victor more closely, noting the way he checked his phone when it vibrated, the slight smile as he read certain texts. After dinner, he announced another business trip for the following week.
- «Three days in Seattle, for the McKinley project,» he said casually.
- «How interesting,» Eleanor replied, keeping her tone neutral. «I thought the McKinley presentation was scheduled for next month.»
Victor barely paused.
- «They moved up the timeline. These developers are always impatient.»
Another lie. Eleanor had seen the email on Victor’s computer screen that morning, confirming the McKinley presentation was still set for its original date. After Victor retreated to his study, Eleanor wheeled herself into the guest room and opened her laptop. It was time to be methodical.
She created a secure document and began listing everything she knew for certain.
- Victor is lying about Olivia’s marital status.
- He is moving large sums of money to undisclosed accounts.
- Some of that money appears to be supporting Olivia.
- He is lying about his travel schedule.
She needed more proof, but her gut told her this was just the beginning. The Victor she had married would never have betrayed her like this. When had he changed? Or had he always been capable of this kind of deception, and she had just been too in love to see it?
The next morning, Eleanor called Martina, her physical therapist.
- «I need a favor,» she said, without preamble. «Something outside of your professional duties.»
- «I’m intrigued,» Martina replied. «And concerned.»
Eleanor hesitated, then decided complete honesty was necessary.
- «I need you to help me follow my husband. I think he’s having an affair.»
- There was a beat of silence. «I’ll pick you up at seven.»
That night, Martina drove them to a high-end restaurant in her unassuming Honda, parking across the street with a clear view of the entrance. Sure enough, at 8:15, Victor arrived. Ten minutes later, a sleek black Mercedes pulled up. Olivia stepped out, her pregnancy now obvious even under an elegant coat. Eleanor watched through binoculars as Victor greeted Olivia with a kiss that was decidedly not mentor-like, his hand resting on her pregnant stomach with unmistakable pride.
- «I’ve seen enough,» Eleanor said quietly.
Martina squeezed her hand.
- «What now?»
- «Now,» Eleanor said, her voice cold, «I find out just how deep this goes.»
Over the next two weeks, Eleanor methodically gathered her evidence. She discovered credit card statements showing jewelry purchases from Tiffany & Co. that she had never received. She found reservations for a weekend getaway to Napa during Victor’s supposed «Seattle trip.» Most disturbingly, she found the deed to a luxury penthouse, purchased in Victor’s name, not listed among their joint assets. The property was in The Archer, their newest residential tower still under construction.
Then came the most painful discovery of all. While searching Victor’s office for more financial records, she found a small velvet box hidden beneath a false bottom in his desk drawer. Inside wasn’t a piece of jewelry, but an ultrasound photo. The inscription read, «Baby Miller, 24 weeks,» with Olivia’s name printed clearly at the top.
Eleanor stared at the image, tears blurring her vision, when she heard Victor’s voice behind her.
- «What the hell do you think you’re doing?»
She turned to see him in the doorway, his expression a mixture of fury and panic.
- «Looking for the truth,» she replied, holding up the ultrasound photo. «Your ‘mentee’ is carrying your child.»
Victor’s face went cold.
- «You had no right to go through my things.»
- «No right?» Eleanor’s voice rose. «I am your wife. This ultrasound, this should have been our baby.»
- «This is exactly why I hid it from you,» Victor snapped. «Look at you. Emotional, hysterical. You’re not stable enough to handle the truth.»
- «Unstable?» Eleanor was staggered. «You’re having an affair, moving money offshore, buying property I know nothing about, and I’m the one who’s unstable?»
Victor stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerously soft tone.
- «Eleanor, you haven’t been right since the accident. The doctors warned me about the potential psychological side effects of your trauma and the medication. Paranoia, delusions, stalking.»
- «Don’t you dare,» Eleanor whispered. «Don’t you dare use my health against me.»
But Victor pressed on, his tone shifting to one of concern, so convincing it was almost believable.
- «I’ve been worried about you for months. These conspiracy theories… the hidden cameras.»
- «Yes, I found it,» he added, seeing her surprise. «Eleanor, you need help.»
- «What I need is a divorce lawyer,» she shot back.
Something flickered in Victor’s eyes—not pain, but calculation.
- «If that’s what you think is best. But I should warn you, any judge will take your mental state into account during the division of assets. Especially given how erratic you’ve become since the accident.»
The threat was unspoken but clear: Challenge me, and I will make you look insane.
After Victor left, Eleanor sat trembling in her wheelchair, the ultrasound photo still clutched in her hand. She had expected anger, maybe even relief at being caught, but this calculated gaslighting was something far more sinister. Later that night, Eleanor overheard Victor on the phone in his study, the door not quite closed.
- «She found the ultrasound,» he was saying quietly. «No, don’t worry. I’ve been documenting her erratic behavior for months. My lawyer says we have options… Yes, a psychological evaluation would be the first step… Of course, I’ll take care of you and the baby.»
Eleanor wheeled herself back to her room in silence, a cold realization washing over her. Victor wasn’t just planning to leave her; he was laying the groundwork to have her declared mentally incompetent, to file for a conservatorship. The implications were staggering—control over her medical decisions, her finances, her very freedom. For the first time since discovering Victor’s affair, true fear gripped her. This was no longer just about infidelity. This was about survival.
