Smart speaker exposes husband's affair
Instead, a strange woman's sweet voice came from the speaker: Sure thing, my Little Moon. Also, remind Aiden not to forget tonight's birthday surprise for Naomi.
I froze instantly. The music from the speaker suddenly sounded jarring. My husband is indeed named Aiden, but who is Naomi?
I immediately called Aiden: "Have you ever used the smart speaker at home?"
On the other end, Aiden's voice paused for a moment, then he laughed casually as if nothing happened: "A friend came over a few days ago and probably connected his account. What's wrong?"
I smiled and said it was nothing. After hanging up, I pulled up the smart speaker's login records and took a cab directly to the company registered under that unfamiliar account.
The taxi stopped in front of Astral Studio.
I looked up at the building. The glass exterior gleamed in the sunlight, just like this company's dominant position in the industry over the past two years—impossible to ignore.
This company is DreamCraft Studio's main competitor.
The receptionist was very professional. She didn't treat me poorly despite knowing I was the CEO of a competing company, but followed protocol and made an internal call.
A few minutes later, a girl in a white dress hurried out. She had waist-length hair, no makeup, and looked clean and innocent.
This was Naomi Collins.
When she saw me, Naomi's eyes clearly showed panic for a moment, like a startled deer. But she quickly composed herself and forced a shy smile.
"Hello, may I ask who you are?" Naomi asked.
I got straight to the point, looking at her calmly: "I'm here about the smart speaker. The login records show your account was used."
"Oh, it's about that speaker." Naomi seemed to suddenly understand, scratching her head embarrassedly. "That's my roommate's speaker. She used my phone to log in a few days ago because her membership expired and she wanted to borrow mine. Did it cause you trouble? I'm really sorry."
Her explanation was flawless, both clearing herself of responsibility while appearing naive and adorable.
If I didn't know Aiden's personality, I might have actually believed her.
Aiden is both proud and sensitive—how could he possibly let a completely unrelated intern use his personal account to log into our home devices?
My gaze moved from Naomi's innocent face to her delicate wrist.
She wore a silver bracelet on her wrist.
The bracelet had two irregular rings interlocked with each other, and one of the rings was engraved with a tiny letter "A."
This bracelet was one I personally designed for our wedding anniversary last year, had a friend craft it, and gave it to Aiden.
The letter "A" stands for Aiden.
There's only one like it in the world.
Naomi noticed my gaze and instinctively tried to hide her hand behind her back.
But I smiled, stepped forward, and spoke in an even gentle tone: "That's a very special bracelet. Did your boyfriend give it to you? Your boyfriend has excellent taste."
Naomi's face instantly turned pale, her lips trembling continuously, unable to say a word.
That was enough.
I didn't look at Naomi again and turned to leave.
I got back in the same taxi. Once in the car, I immediately called my good friend Kennedy Richardson. She's the best divorce attorney around.
As soon as the call connected, Kennedy's voice came through: "Ms. Anderson, what made you think to call me today?" Elizabeth Anderson is my name.
Looking at the rapidly retreating streetscape outside the window, I said in a calm voice: "I need a favor. Investigate someone—Naomi, an intern at Astral Studio. Also, find all of Aiden's financial transactions and hotel records from the past six months. Don't miss a single one."
Kennedy was quiet for two seconds on the other end, then dropped her playful tone: "You want to thoroughly investigate everything about him?"
"It's worse than that," I said.
After hanging up, the taxi fell silent.
Soon after, Aiden's call came in.
I looked at Aiden's name on my phone screen, finding it ironic, and took a deep breath before answering.
Aiden's gentle voice came through the receiver, with just the right amount of concern in his tone: "Elizabeth, what's wrong? I heard from Kennedy that you asked her to investigate something. Are you having trouble at work?"
His informant worked fast.
I suppressed the churning emotions in my heart and used my most casual tone: "No, I just suddenly missed you terribly."
Aiden seemed to breathe a sigh of relief on the other end, then laughed tenderly.
"Silly girl, I miss you too. Once I finish this project, I'll immediately fly back to be with you, my Little Moon."
Those words "Little Moon" came through clearly to my ears.
My grip on the phone instantly tightened.
So I wasn't Aiden's only "Little Moon."
Or rather, I was never his "Little Moon" to begin with.
Kennedy was incredibly efficient. Half an hour later, my phone buzzed.
I received a link along with Kennedy's assessment: [This is hands down the best innocent act performance of Christmas. The evidence chain is so complete I almost feel bad charging you full attorney fees. Take your time going through it.]
I clicked the link and found Naomi's social media account, set to public viewing.
Naomi's latest post was a close-up of her wrist. She was wearing that familiar bracelet engraved with the letter "A" that I knew so well, with the caption: [The moon is running toward you, Mr. Thomas.]
My exclusive "Little Moon" nickname and the "A" bracelet I'd given to Aiden had now become another woman's trophies.
I scrolled down with a blank expression.
One photo showed our home study in the background. Naomi had her hands cupping her cheeks, smiling innocently. Behind her were the rare architectural volumes I'd brought back from Italy. The caption read: [Studying in Mr. Thomas's study makes me feel smarter too.]
Another showed Naomi holding a pen, sketching on blueprints. That pen was the thirtieth birthday gift I'd given Aiden—a limited edition collaboration piece. The caption: [The pen Mr. Thomas gave me works wonderfully. He said my hands deserve the finest pen.]
Another photo was taken at our regular private restaurant. The image showed several dishes I always ordered. Caption: [This is mine and Mr. Thomas's secret hideaway. He says I'm the only one who can make him completely relax.]
Every photo, every word cut into my most precious memories like a scalpel.
Until I scrolled to content Naomi had posted three days ago.
In the photo, Naomi held a printed design draft, looking particularly smug.
The caption read: [The blueprints Mr. Thomas stayed up all night helping me revise. He said I'm the most talented designer he's ever met. I'm definitely going to land the Horizon Center Building project. Go me!]
Horizon Center Building was the project our DreamCraft Studio had poured our hearts into, preparing for half a year—it was also the most important milestone of my career.
I shot up from the couch, grabbed my car keys, and rushed out the door.
The company was empty in the dead of night. I used my fingerprint to unlock the door and headed straight to Aiden's office.
Aiden's computer was still displaying the screensaver—our wedding photo. In the picture, Aiden smiled with tender affection.
I felt nothing but disgust.
I tapped the keyboard. The screen lit up, showing a password prompt. I tried entering my birthday—incorrect. Then our wedding anniversary—still wrong.
I let out a cold laugh and entered Naomi's birthday.
The screen displayed "Welcome" message.
Aiden's desk was meticulously organized. I immediately spotted the encrypted folder. Opening it revealed the final proposal for the Horizon Center Building project. Every detail in the proposal embodied months of blood, sweat, and tears from me and the team.
Next to this folder was another one, named with just a single letter: N.
I opened this folder and discovered a proposal nearly identical to ours, with only minor modifications to key load-bearing structures and design highlights. This cleverly avoided our core patents while preserving the essence of the proposal.
The proposal was credited to Naomi.
Aiden hadn't just betrayed me—he was stealing my life's work, our company's future, using it all to pave the road to success for his mistress.
My stomach suddenly churned violently. I gripped the cold desk tightly to keep from collapsing.
So this was how jealousy and betrayal could make a man become completely unrecognizable.
The bidding venue for the Horizon Center Building project was buzzing with industry professionals everywhere.
I found an inconspicuous corner to sit in and watched as Astral Studio's representative took the stage.
The person walking up was none other than Naomi.
Today, Naomi wore a perfectly tailored business suit, her long hair pinned up, makeup flawless—completely different from her previous innocent appearance. She now carried the sharp, professional aura of a corporate powerhouse.
She took a deep breath and began presenting her design concept.
"My design inspiration comes from the 'City Eye' concept. We want this building to be more than just cold steel and concrete—it should 'breathe' with the city and serve as a living entity that witnesses urban development," Naomi said.
Every single word she spoke was something I had once explained to Aiden during countless late nights, clutching my coffee cup with bloodshot eyes from exhaustion.
I used to think those were the most intimate soul-to-soul exchanges between us as husband and wife.
Now I realize it was just my one-man show, and Aiden was simply the most patient thief.
What made it even more ironic was that Aiden sat in the special guest section of the judging panel.
He was impeccably dressed in a suit with a perfectly straight tie, his hair meticulously styled—exactly the elite image I knew so well.
Aiden listened with focused attention, nodding approvingly from time to time. The way he looked at Naomi held a light I'd never seen before—the look of someone treasuring a beloved object while eagerly wanting to show it off to the world.
He completely ignored me sitting in the corner below, as if I were just dispensable background scenery.
My phone buzzed with a message from Kennedy: [Need me to grab a baseball bat and rush over for backup?]
Looking at the screen, my tense expression actually cracked into a slight smile. I replied: [Just wait and watch the show.]
On stage, Naomi's presentation reached its climax. The screen displayed the project's final renderings—exactly the design stolen from my computer.
The entire venue erupted in gasps of admiration.
After Naomi finished her presentation, the room filled with enthusiastic applause.
Director Charles Reed took the stage: "Thank you for Ms. Collins' excellent presentation. Now let's invite our special guest judge, a senior veteran in our industry from DreamCraft Studio, Mr. Thomas, to comment on this proposal."
The microphone was handed to Aiden.
Aiden cleared his throat, gazing tenderly at Naomi.
"Honestly, I'm impressed. Ms. Collins' design perfectly balances artistic beauty with practical functionality, especially the clever handling of several key load-bearing structures. She's bold and talented."
He used that word "talented" again.
The same word he used to describe Naomi, the same word he used to wound me.
Aiden paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping across the venue.
"I believe this is today's best work," he continued.
The room erupted in applause again, even more enthusiastic than before.
In that moment, my world suddenly went quiet. All I could hear was my heart beating dully in my chest.
Charles smiled as he took back the microphone: "Thank you for Mr. Thomas' high praise. It looks like Astral Studio has this project locked up. Are there any other guests or judges who'd like to ask Ms. Collins a question?"
The venue fell silent.
After Aiden, this "authority figure," had already given his definitive conclusion, it seemed no one had any more questions.
Naomi bowed in gratitude on stage, unable to hide her triumph and joy.
I put away my phone and stood up just as everyone was preparing to applaud again.
Though my movement was small, it instantly drew everyone's attention.
Charles looked stunned and asked, "Excuse me, miss, may I ask who you are?"
The smile on Aiden's face froze instantly.
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