My phone rang.It was Sophie.“Emma,I’m in trouble. Could you come over to my apartment?”
“Where are you?”I watched her, feeling conflicted.
“My apartment,obviously.”

Her voice was in a hushed tone.“Please,it’s urgent.You’ll come,right?”
“Yes.”
“Good,you have to come!”
She hung up,rang the doorbell,and threw herself into Richard’s arms as the door opened.They stumbled inside,the door slamming shut.
I stood in a dark room,phone pointed at the hotel room across the street.A naked couple pressed against the window,lost in passion.
No curtains,or no obstructions,the room brightly lit—every detail crystal clear.

I couldn’t hear them,but their wild movements said it all.
As I rubbed my sore wrist,they froze,looking toward the door.
Checking my watch,I assumed Richard’s wife had arrived.
The door burst open.A group stormed in,taking photos of the stunned,unclothed Richard and Sophie.

A burly man pulled them apart,forcing Richard to kneel and grabbing Sophie’s hair.Another filmed their faces up close.
Richard,unashamed,begged the woman before him,who slapped him repeatedly.
Sophie took a beating too, and collapsed motionless.
I felt a thrill mixed with dread.
My plan was to lure Richard,record his infidelity,and have his wife catch him before anything happened.
Thankfully,Sophie had intervened.
Otherwise,that could have been me.
The next day,I went to work as usual.
By the third day,no one mentioned the incident.Colleagues were immersed in the project’s success,buzzing about the celebration.
Richard showed up near noon,exhausted,retreated to his office and closed the door.Sophie vanished.
I thought he’d leave me in peace after that night,but I underestimated his malice.
Somehow,he’d quashed the cheating scandal and convinced his wife to forgive him,attending the celebration alone.
He likely knew I’d trapped him,so he targeted me again,trying to kiss me drunkenly in front of colleagues.
I was finished pretending.
I slapped him,knocking his toupee off,and stormed out,leaving shocked colleagues behind.
I sent the edited footage of Richard’s hotel tryst and his wife’s confrontation to the company’s main chat,department group,and individually to Olivia,the VP,and Richard.
Then I waited patiently.
The chats went silent before erupting.
“Is that really Richard Baxter and Sophie Miller?”
“When did they get together?”
“Sophie seemed so shy—didn’t expect her to be this bold!”
“How did this happen?I heard nothing before!”
The messages flooded in.