How My Husband Planned My Ruin and Built His Own Downfall
It had been sitting on the top shelf, angled toward the doorway.
I picked it up, expecting it to be light and empty.
It felt surprisingly heavy.
I turned the plastic bear over in my hands, looking at the base.
The battery compartment was sealed with electrical tape, but a tiny green light was blinking inside the seam.
It was connected to a power outlet behind the changing table by a thin, hidden wire.
My breath caught in my throat.
This wasn’t a standard baby monitor.
I pulled a small penknife from my pocket and carefully sliced through the black tape.
The plastic backing popped loose, revealing a high-definition lens and a micro-transmitter.
It was a hidden camera.
It was positioned perfectly to capture the entire room, including the antique writing desk in the corner.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my chest as I looked at the desk.
That was the desk where Jared kept his private files before he remodeled his main study.
I looked back at the tiny blinking green light of the camera.