Set Her Free, Watch Her Regret

For the eighth time in a row, my wife refused intimacy.

Then I found a hickey on her body from someone else.

Soon after, she asked for a divorce, saying she'd found her soulmate.

She said that man showered her with attention, cared about her feelings.

Unlike me, who gave her nothing but money.

Guess years of comfort made her forget how she constantly begged me for money to fill the bottomless pit that was her family.

I agreed instantly. I couldn't wait to see how she and her true love would live on love alone.

After Isabella Rossi refused me again, even I couldn't ignore the red flags anymore.

While she showered, I tried to check her phone.

It was password protected.

Since when?

It never had one before.

I tried her birthday and our daughter Chloe's birthday.

Wrong both times.

One attempt left before it locked me out for thirty minutes.

I wasn't naive enough to think it'd be my birthday.

So I used my last shot: her ex-boyfriend's birthday.

The phone unlocked.

I only remembered that date because Isabella vanished on that day every year.

I figured everyone has a past.

As long as she committed to us, I didn't mind her taking one day to reminisce.

Clearly, that past wasn't so past.

I opened her WhatsApp.

The texts between her and Damian Vega were explicit.

Damian Vega, the ex-boyfriend.

Isabella didn't break up with Damian because I swooped in.

In fact, she pursued me.

In her sob story, her boyfriend dumped her for someone richer. She was disillusioned with love, decided a practical guy like me was marriage material.

Isabella was famously gorgeous.

What guy says no to that, especially when she's throwing herself at you?

I was no exception.

My ego soared.

One night, not long after we started dating, she got drunk, cried hysterically in my arms, and passed out.

Next morning, she woke up crying.

She said her brother needed emergency surgery, a huge sum of money.

As dutiful doormat guy, I paid.

Later, I found out her brother wasn't illhe'd lost money gambling.

The surgery fee paid his debt.

But I was already trapped in Isabella's sweet, sticky web.

After years of marriage and those glaring texts, it was time to wake up.

Isabella came out of the shower.

Seeing her phone in my hand, she lunged for it.

"Nathaniel Blackwood! Have you no respect for privacy?" she shrieked, wrestling it away.

I laughed bitterly. "If privacy' means sexting another man, then no, that privacy doesn't deserve respect!"

Isabella suddenly calmed.

"Fine. Since you know, then we're getting divorced."

I snapped, "Isabella! Think about Chloe! She's only four!"

"I can't lose myself for a child. I have to be me first, then a mother. Nathaniel, we've been married six years. Tell me, what have you really given me?"

"Given you? The food you eat, clothes you wear, everything!"

"Money, money, money! You think money fixes everything? Damian asks if I've eaten, reminds me to dress warmly when it's cold.

He talks me through sleepless nights, encourages me when I'm lost. Can you do that?"

"Asking if you ate is more important than providing the food? Reminding you about a jacket trumps buying it?

Why can't I do those things? if I didn't work myself to death, how would this family survive??"

"You're so crass! Money isn't everything!"

"And you're so noble? Then give back every cent I spent on you and your bloodsucking family!"

Isabella flared, "Don't you dare insult my family! What's wrong with helping your in-laws? How dare you!"

"Helping? More like giving a fortune! Your dad's sudden illness,' your mom's scam victim' story, your brother's bar fight medical bills.' Your endless clothes, bags!

And you ask what more I can do? If I didn't have your family's bottomless pit to fill, maybe I wouldn't need to work myself to death!"

"I'm done talking. I want a divorce. I want half the assets. Chloe is my baby and I get custody. Plus, you pay $5,000 a month in child support."

She rattled off the terms without a flicker of hesitation.

Clearly she'd rehearsed this.

"Chloe's been raised by my mom since birth!

You refused to breastfeed to save your figure,' feeding her formula.

You said caring for a baby ruined your sleep and looks,'so you dumped her on my mom.

You barely see Chloe once a month! Now she's your baby'? Isabella, you're delusional. You want half my assets, and want to keep milking me using our daughter after you cheated on me?"

"Cheated? Where's your proof? Damian and I are just friends talking. That's not cheating!"

I almost choked on the absurdity.

How had I lived with someone this shameless for so long?

Was I more impressed by her audacity or my own blindness?

After that showdown, Isabella and I settled into a tense standoff.

We both wanted a divorce but refused to budge on assets.

I knew waiting would only cost me more.

I asked my buddy, Connor Reed, to keep an eye on Isabella and Damian.

Connor was a Sherlock Holmes nut.

He'd wanted to be a cop, but his eyesight failed him.

Though majoring in computer science in college, he ditched coding and opened a PI firm instead.

Connor was furious after I told him the affair.

He promised he'd get proof of it.

Isabella guarded her phone like Fort Knox now.

So, under the guise of discussing asset division, I sent her a link to a legal resource' websiteone Connor had rigged.

The moment she clicked, her phone was under his surveillance.

Connor's skills paid off.

The screenshots of their chats he forwarded made me sick.

Isabella: Miss you so much. When can I see you?

Damian: Soon, baby.

Once the divorce is final, we can be together openly every day.

Isabella: But he won't agree to my terms. He's stalling.

And honestly, I don't want Chloe.

We can have our own.

That little anchor just reminds me of him.

Gross.

Damian: Hang tight, sweetheart.

If he finds out before the papers are signed, he could take us to court and we get nothing.

Isabella: But I need you Can't we sneak off to a hotel?

We'll be careful.

Damian: Baby, I need you too. But using our IDs leaves a trail.

Isabella: Please I ache for you

The messages got filthier. I couldn't stomach more.

Unimaginable. My reserved, composed wife, reduced to this thing for another man.

Meanwhile, Connor's background check on Damian came in.

"Nate, Damian Vega's a professional gigolo. An ex-personal trainer and he lives off wealthy women.

His latest sugar mama got bored, traded him in for a younger model, ghosting him now."

"He's desperate for his next meal ticket. Then Isabella walked into his gym, bam!

Seeing how his last sugar mama operated, he figured Isabella might not have cash, but her husband does. A divorce settlement equals payday."

"Plus, Isabella's way hotter than his usual clientele."

Perfect. I couldn't wait for these two snakes to shack up. Let Damian taste the Rossis' bloodsucking ways.

I started coming home late every night.

This made the lovebirds antsy. They arranged a meet-up.

Or rather, a hook-up.

Afraid of leaving a trail, they avoided hotels. Damian was still living in his sugar mama's place, couldn't risk bringing Isabella home and pissing her off.

They settled on outdoor fun in Central Park.

Damian: Baby, let's go to Central Park. The woods near the reservoir are secluded.

Isabella: Outside? So exposed!

Damian: What's the big deal? Plenty of couples do it there. It's exciting!

Isabella: How do you know that? Been there before?

Damian: Never! I've been saving myself for you! Just heard things walking by.

Isabella: Well I couldn't possibly make any noise

Her words said shy, but on our doorbell cam, she left the house dressed to the nines, not a hint of shyness

The moment she left, I called Connor. "Go time."

After days of waiting, Connor was psyched. He'd already set the stage that afternoon.

Following our plan, Connor had posted online: Lost Dog! Golden Retriever, Central Park near reservoir. Reward! The post was gaining traction.

Once Isabella left, Connor updated: Desperate!

Offering 200 to anyone nearby who helps search for an hour(provide GPS track as proof).10,000 if found!

Yeah, I knew using lost pets as an excuse was shady, so the $200 was hush money.

The response was huge. Most came for the money, some were genuine dog lovers wanting to helpall with dogs in tow.

9 PM, Central Park entrance.

Our posse: fifty people, twenty dogs. What a spectacle.

One guy was live-streaming.

Connor seized the opportunity, guided the streamer straight towards Damian and Isabella's chosen thicket.