A fool could only be a fool for so long, and Ted had learned that the hard way. He'd been so blind, so trusting, that he hadn't seen what was going on right under his nose.
The weekends Grace spent away, the lies she told, the vague explanations—at first, he had chalked it up to coincidence, to work trips and business events.
But when it happened week after week, it beca undeniable. Sothing was wrong.
Ted's suspicion had led him down a dark path, and eventually, he had found himself purchasing one of the most sophisticated tracking apps on the black market.
It wasn't sothing he was proud of, but in his desperation, he had to know. He had to understand why his wife had changed, why the woman he had trusted so completely had started slipping away from him.
Now, ard with the truth of Grace's whereabouts, Ted had one thing left to decide: what to do next. His anger surged again as he watched her laugh, her hand resting on Ross's shoulder, a smile on her face that seed too familiar.
It didn't matter how much Ted wanted to rush in and confront them both. He wouldn't. Not yet.
He would wait. He would follow the thread to the end. And when the ti ca, when he had all the answers he needed, he would confront Grace.
But not before this fake team-building seminar ended. He needed to know everything first.
anwhile, Ross and Grace dined at an upscale restaurant, the kind where the ambiance was refined, and the als were nothing short of luxurious.
Their laughter and conversation flowed easily as they indulged in gourt dishes, savoring both the food and each other's company.
Grace has of course gotten comfortable with Ross over the ti they had been together.
After their al, Ross led Grace to his private residence, a spacious and elegant ho that reflected his wealth and taste.
As they entered, Ross called out to his wives, who were gathered in the living room, relaxed and chatting among themselves.
Grace felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach, but she quickly composed herself, reminding herself of the plan.
"Everyone, et Grace," Ross announced with a warm smile, his arm casually draped over her shoulders.
"She's a dear friend of mine."
The wives, who were already accustod to Ross's charm, looked up from their conversations, their curiosity piqued.
There was a mont of silence as they studied Grace, noting her beauty, composure, and the way she stood beside Ross.
"A dear friend?" One of the wives raised an eyebrow and grinned, clearly teasing.
"Is that how you introduce your new girlfriend now, Ross? A 'dear friend'?"
Ross chuckled, a deep, easy sound but he did not speak.
"You know how Ross is, darling. Always keeping things casual." One wife added.
"Oh, I'm sure that's not all," another wife said with a knowing smile, giving Grace a once-over.
"Grace is probably already his woman. Welco to the family, Grace. It's always good to see a new face in the house." She stepped forward to give Grace a hug, her tone warm and welcoming.
"Absolutely," and yet another wife added, her voice light and playful. "This way, we have one more to share the burden of satisfying Ross on a daily basis. He's insatiable, after all."
The comnt was t with a burst of laughter from the group, and the atmosphere lightened instantly.
There was no shortage of jokes and knowing glances, as if everyone present had long since co to terms with the complexities of their relationship with Ross.
The humor was open and unabashed, reflecting the ease they felt in each other's company.
Grace, feeling a mix of surprise and intrigue, joined in with a nervous smile.
"Hello, everyone," she said, her voice calm and asured despite the whirlwind of emotions racing through her.
She could feel herself being sized up by these won, their eyes assessing her every move, yet there was no malice—only curiosity.
They all sat down around the large dining table, and the night unfolded in a haze of laughter, shared stories, and drinks.
The conversation flowed freely as the won got to know Grace better, asking her about her life, her interests, and how she t Ross.
At first, the questions were light and friendly, but as the evening wore on and the alcohol took its effect, the tone shifted slightly.
"So…" One of the wives leaned forward with a mischievous grin, a glint of curiosity in her eyes. "How did Ross get under your pants, Grace? Was it his unique looks that chard you, or did he use that smooth tongue of his to whisper sweet things in your ear?"
The teasing tone in her voice was unmistakable, and the other wives watched eagerly, waiting for Grace's response.
Grace felt her cheeks warm slightly, but she maintained her composure. She wasn't naive—she knew this wasn't just small talk. It was an interrogation, albeit a playful one.
But she also realized that the way she answered could shape how they viewed her in the future. Still, she knew that the truth was the last thing Ross or any of his wives wanted to her at this ti and so she could only weave one lie after another.
"Well," Grace began, taking a sip of her drink to buy herself a mont, "I'd be lying if I said his looks didn't catch my attention first. Ross is… quite the charming man. But it wasn't just his appearance." She paused, eting their gazes.
"It was the way he listens, the way he makes you feel like you're the only one in the room. He's not just about the talk—he knows how to make you feel special."
A few of the wives exchanged knowing glances, as if impressed by Grace's candid response.
"Oh, I see," one of them said with a smile. "So, it was his charm, then? I'm sure he chard you with more than just words. He got sothing big hidden as I'm sure you're already well aware." Everyone giggled at this fact.
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