Chapter 3

At 10 PM, my phone buzzed.

Samantha sent a video and a voice note.

"Vance spiked her drink. He barely drank, but Grace kept chugging."

"Also, Johnson opened a private room next door. He keeps checking his watch like he's waiting for someone."

I opened the video. It was a luxury VIP suite.

Grace, in a low-cut dress, was flushed and slurring her words on the leather sofa.

Vance leaned in.

But Grace suddenly shrieked and slapped him.

Furious, Vance grabbed her hair and hit her.

As she screamed, the door burst open. Johnson rushed in.

"Mr. Vance, what do you think you're doing?" He pulled Grace away, acting like a hero.

Vance sneered. "Mr. Johnson, she threw herself at me. What, can't handle the heat?"

Johnson's face turned pale. Holding a bruised Grace, he snapped, "The deal is off!"

The video cut to the next room. Johnson carried Grace inside and locked the door.

After a hushed conversation, Grace’s hands went to his belt...

I closed the video and smirked.

The next morning, as soon as I entered the office, I heard Johnson roaring.

"Evelyn, get in here!"

I walked in. Johnson slammed his hand on the desk.

"You knew what kind of man Vance was! Why didn't you warn Grace? Did you do this on purpose?"

Grace sat nearby, eyes swollen, neck covered in hickeys and bruises. She looked like she’d cried all night.

I stared at them silently.

"Fine, play dumb," Johnson sneered, pointing at the door. "Get out. Don't come back until you're ready to apologize!"

I smiled, pulled out my resignation letter, and slapped it on his desk. "I quit."

As I turned, I heard Grace’s whiny voice.

"Mr. Johnson, please don't be mad. I'm sure Evelyn didn't mean it."

In the hallway, Scott blocked my way, glaring.

"Evelyn, how could you be so malicious? You set Grace up!"

"Let's break up."

"Fine by me!" Scott snapped.

I smirked and walked away.

Grace had been throwing herself at him for months. In my past life, I thought he was loyal.

In the end, he was the one who drugged me.

A week later, I joined our main rival company and instantly snatched the Vance account.

At the same time, I anonymously sent the video to Johnson’s wife, Leslie Stuart, the sole heiress of the Stuart Group.

Three days later, the financial news broke:

Stuart Group Heiress Leslie Stuart Files for Divorce; Strips Arthur Johnson of All Shares.

Overnight, Johnson was kicked out with absolutely nothing.

And Grace didn't fare any better.

On Monday, as I drove to my new office, I saw a crowd gathered outside our old building.

"You cheap whore! Sleeping with my husband?" Leslie’s voice echoed.

In the center of the crowd, Leslie and two bodyguards were dragging Grace by her hair. Leslie slapped her hard across the face.

Grace sobbed, "I didn't! Mr. Johnson forced himself on me!"

Scott rushed forward to shield her, yelling at Leslie, "Stop it! Assault is a crime!"

Leslie laughed coldly. "Still playing the white knight?"

"Too bad your precious goddess was acting like a dog for my husband."

She threw a stack of photos into the air—all of them explicit pictures of Johnson and Grace in a hotel.

Grace turned pale, and Scott's face went completely stiff.