Chapter 4 Showing Off

Not long after I blocked Liam, I immediately received another message.

It was from an unfamiliar number. "Hyatt Hotel, Presidential Suite 8808. Both Liam and I are here. Do you dare to come?"

The message ended with a hotel location attached.

It was from Destinee.

She was so persistent. After being blocked, she changed her phone number and insisted on proving her victory in front of me.

Looking at the address, I found it somewhat amusing.

Did she think I would rush over in tears, demanding to know why they treated me this way? Or did she think that I would act like a shrew, pulling her hair and fighting with her, making Liam feel more sorry for her as the "victim"?

It was too cliché.

I put down my phone and opened another chat window with a friend who had a wide network in the social circle.

"Do me a favor, send me Destinee's fiancé's WhatsApp."

My friend replied instantly. "What are you planning? Crashing a wedding?"

"I'll deliver him a big surprise."

Without further questions, my friend quickly sent over a contact card.

I friended this man, and the other party accepted promptly, likely thinking I was there to send early wedding congratulations.

Without saying a word, I sent him the photo Destinee sent of her and Liam sleeping in the same bed, as well as the recording of Liam's confession.

There was silence on the other end for a minute.

Then, a call came through immediately. The man's voice was seething with anger, sounding younger than I had imagined. "Who are you? Where did you get these things?"

"Who I am isn't important. What's important is that your fiancée is currently with my ex-boyfriend, in Suite 8808 at the Hyatt Hotel, waiting for me to catch them in the act." I replied calmly.

A heavy breath came from the other end, as if he was trying hard to control himself.

"Give me the address," he said, his voice clipped.

"I'll change clothes and meet you downstairs." After hanging up, I opened the wardrobe. The half that once belonged to Liam was now empty, making it feel particularly spacious. I chose a black tracksuit, put on the most comfortable running shoes, and tied my hair into a high ponytail.

In the mirror, my eyes were calm, showing no signs of heartbreak.

Cleaning up this mess didn't require a grand appearance.

When I got downstairs, a black Maybach was parked by the roadside. A man in a tailored suit leaned against the car door, a cigarette between his fingers, the light reflecting off his tense jawline.

When he saw me, he stubbed out the cigarette and opened the car door. "Get in."

The atmosphere in the car was palpably tense.

I had no interest in comforting him, and he had no mind for pleasantries.

We were the most synchronized allies tonight, with a common target, and that was to expose that cheating couple.

At the hotel, it was clear the man was a regular here. Without any questioning, he obtained a spare room card for Suite 8808.

Standing at the door of the suite, I could clearly hear laughter coming from inside. It was Destinee.

The man took a deep breath and looked at me.

I gestured "do as you please," then took out my phone and opened the video recording function.

With a "beep," the door unlocked.

Destinee's fiancé and I stormed into the suite.