That necklace resting below her collarbone, it gleamed like a cruel joke, like it was placed there just for me to see.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear through the screen and throttle every one of them. But I couldn’t move.

Cold sweat trickled down my spine, soaking my back.

Then, that same user ID popped up again with another message. [More goodies waiting for you to unlock.]

Followed by a disgusting emoji.

Someone replied instantly. [Can we meet up? In-person?]

And the response came just as fast. [Only if you’re local.]

My chest tightened. The city he mentioned was ours.

Then, a new name appeared in the chat, “Wealthy Cyrus.”

[Neighboring city. I can head over now! I’ll even pay extra!]

Pay extra? Just to meet my wife?

My lungs burned. My teeth clenched. A low growl escaped my throat. “Bastard.”

My finger dug into the screen so hard I nearly shattered it. I wanted to report it, destroy it, quit the group, wipe it all from existence.

But something stopped me.

I couldn’t leave. Not yet. I needed proof.

My hands shook as I began screen recording, snapping screenshots one by one, every photo, every filthy comment, every username.

I opened the messaging app, ready to confront my wife, when a new message popped up.

[Honey, I’m working late tonight, don’t wait up.]

It was from Averie.

It made me froze.

In that instant, my heart flipped upside down, convulsing like it had been seized by a fist.

She told me she had to work late.

But in that photo, she was blindfolded, lips painted blood-red, the necklace still nestled against her skin.

I couldn’t recall if she wore it out today.

But last night, she held it between her fingers, smiled softly, and kissed me like I was her whole world.

Now, my throat was dry, and words caught in my chest. Black spots danced across my vision.

Was she really working overtime? Or had she already….

I didn’t dare finish the thought. A suffocating weight pressed down on me, squeezing the breath from my lungs.

I didn’t sleep the whole night. The lights stayed off. Curtains drawn.

The glow from my phone screen lit my face, flickering like a ghost.

I stared at that photo again. And again. Fifty times, maybe more.

Each time my eyes landed on that necklace, it cut a little deeper, like it was slicing me open from the inside.

I tried finding something, anything. I zoomed in on the avatar of the person who posted it, rotating it slowly, my finger trembling across the glass.