Cheating with the Mob Boss's Woman

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After catching my husband, Ethan Hayes, cheating, he knelt before me and swore he'd cut all ties with that yoga instructor.

But a month later, I saw a strange text on his phone:

[I'm sick and so scared alone in the hospital. Can you come see me?]

Watching Ethan rush out the door, I called after him mockingly:

"In such a hurry? Want me to grab you a box of condoms on your way out?"

Ethan froze, then whirled around, glaring at me furiously:

"Charlotte, I've already come back to this family. Do you have to be so nasty? She's sickcan't I just go check on her?"

I didn't try to stop him anymore.

After he left, I made a phone call.

What Ethan didn't know was that the yoga instructor's fianc was a mob boss who killed without leaving a trace.

"Charlotte, when are you going to stop this?"

"I already told youVivian doesn't know anyone in this city. She's got acute gastroenteritis and is getting an IV at the hospital. What's wrong with me, as a former colleague, bringing her some medicine?"

"Former colleague?"

I let out a cold laugh.

"Need me to refresh your memory about how many sex positions you two unlocked on that yoga mat last month?"

Ethan's face instantly flushed crimson.

He jabbed his finger toward my face, his voice dropping to a furious hiss.

"I already admitted I was wrong! I even slapped myself in front of your parents!"

"This entire month, I've come straight home after work every day. I've handed over all my bank cards. What more do you want from me?"

"Do you have to act like some bitter housewife and turn this home into a hellhole before you're satisfied?"

Looking at his self-righteous expression, I felt nothing but nausea churning in my stomach.

A month ago, I'd thrown photos in his facepictures taken by a private investigator.

In those photos, he and that yoga instructor named Vivian were tangled together on a hotel bed.

Back then, he'd knelt on the floor, crying and begging, swearing he'd just had a momentary lapse in judgment, pleading for one more chance.

In front of both sets of parents, he'd slapped himself three sharp, ringing times across the face.

He changed all his bank card passwords to my birthday. He even voluntarily canceled his membership at the gym where Vivian worked.

I thought he'd truly realized his mistake.

I was naive enough to think that if I just swallowed this bitter pill, our marriage could be patched up and continue.

But I was wrong.

A dog returns to its vomit, and a cheating man never learns loyalty.

I watched him rage coldly, then turned and walked to the sofa, pulling a tablet from beneath a throw pillow.

"Ethan, you put on quite the performance."

"Coming home on time every day, even letting me check your phone whenever I wantwhat a reformed man you are."

I lit up the screen and hurled the tablet into his arms.

"So explain this to me."

Ethan fumbled to catch the tablet, glancing down at the screen.

Just one look, and all the color drained from his face.

The screen displayed the synced backend data from that latest-model smartwatch on his wrist.

He'd bought that watch last month, claiming it was to monitor his sleep quality.

But this afternoon, I'd discovered that the watch's health app was secretly linked to another person's account.

The account's profile picture was a selfie of Vivian in tight yoga clothes.

"Every night at eleven o'clock, your heart rate spikes to 120 beats per minute."

I stared into his evasive eyes, tearing away his mask.

"Ethan, you've been carrying on with her this whole time!"

Ethan's lips trembled.

He instinctively hid his hand behind his back, trying to conceal the watch.

"You're making things up! I go running at eleven at night!"

I cut him off: "Stop lying! You even logged her menstrual cycle!"

I held his tablet in front of him.

After a brief silence, the panic in his eyes rapidly transformed into humiliated rage.

"You've been spying on me?"

He violently threw the tablet onto the sofa, glaring at me through clenched teeth.

"Charlotte, you're a psycho! Checking my phone every day, checking my watchare you sick!? You're disgusting!"

I took a deep breath, suppressing the tearing pain in my chest.

"If being with me disgusts you so much, then get out right now and go to the hospital to see Vivian."

Ethan grabbed the car keys from the living room and yanked open the door without looking back.

"Fine, Charlotte. Don't regret this!"

I replied: "My only regret is being blind enough not to see what garbage you are."

"You think I want to come back to this cold, dead home?"

Ethan stood in the doorway, one foot across the threshold, then turned back and looked me up and down with utterly contemptuous eyes.

"Charlotte, look at yourselfthis hysterical mess you've become. Your hair's a wreck, you don't even wear makeup, all you do is obsess over every little thing I do."

"Now look at Vivianeven when she's sick, she's gentler and more beautiful than you!"

So he finally said what he really thought.

I stood quietly in the center of the living room, watching this man I'd loved for seven years, feeling the blood in my veins turn to ice.

So in his eyes, the exhaustion I'd suffered staying up late caring for this household had become his reason to despise me.

I didn't speak. Instead, I turned and walked to the TV cabinet, pulling open the bottom drawer.

I took out a crumpled hospital payment receipt and a printout of an insurance policy.

I walked to the door and threw both documents directly in his face.

"Ethan, if you think she's so wonderful, why did you marry me in the first place?"

"You keep saying how pitiful she isthen what about this critical illness insurance policy worth three hundred thousand dollars?"

Ethan looked down at the papers scattered on the floor, his pupils contracting sharply.

That was an insurance policy he'd secretly bought for Vivian three months ago, with her mother listed as the beneficiary.

And the premium had been transferred from our joint savings accountmoney we'd been setting aside for a new house.

"You... you went through my study?" he shouted, livid.

I looked at him coldly:

"Ethan, have you forgotten how I nearly died on the operating table just one year ago?"

This time last year, I'd suffered an ectopic pregnancy and hemorrhaged, rushed to the hospital by ambulance.

The doctor needed a family member to sign consent forms. I dialed Ethan's number over and over again.

But the voice on the other end was always: [Sorry, the number you are calling is currently unavailable.]

I almost died on that operating table.

How did he explain it afterward?

He said he'd been playing golf with a very important client, and his phone was in a locker in the changing room where he couldn't hear it.

He held my hand at my hospital bedside, crying harder than I was, swearing he'd make it up to me twice over.

I believed him.

I dragged my weakened body through those most difficult days.

But it wasn't until last month, when I checked his phone, that I discovered the truth.

That day, he hadn't been with any important client at all.

He'd been at a hot spring resort in the next city over, celebrating Vivian's twenty-fourth birthday.

He'd posted something on his social media, visible only to Vivian: [May my girl always smile like a flower.]

Meanwhile, his wife had been lying in a pool of her own blood, signing her own critical condition notice.

"And now you're telling me she's pitiful?"

I stepped closer, staring into his eyes.

"She bought insurance with my money, booked hotel rooms with my moneywhere exactly is she pitiful?"

"The truly pitiful one was my child who never even formed before dying!"

"The truly pitiful one is methe fool you've been playing for a fool!"

Ethan backed up a step under my advance.

But there wasn't a trace of guilt on his faceonly extreme irritation at being exposed.

"Charlotte, can you stop bringing up old history!"

He yanked at his tie in frustration, his tone dripping with cold rationality.

"The doctor said the ectopic pregnancy was because of your poor healthit was a matter of probability!"

"You insist on blaming Vivian for this. Do you think that's fair?"

"Besides, I didn't know you were in trouble. If I'd known, wouldn't I have come back?"

My breath caught.

Poor health. A matter of probability.

With one casual sentence, he'd erased all his cold-bloodedness and betrayal.

He'd even shifted the blame onto me.

I looked at his face, twisted with anger, and suddenly felt he was a complete stranger.

Was this the same boy who, back in college, would run two kilometers through the snow just to buy me a cup of hot milk tea?

No. He wasn't.

The moment he climbed into Vivian's bed, that Ethan had died.

The thing standing before me now was just a selfish monster who'd lost every last shred of humanity.

"Ethan, you make me sick."

I spat out each word, looking at him like he was trash.

My gaze stung him.

He raised his hand as if to strike me, but ultimately stopped mid-air.

"Fine, Charlotte. You're so noble, so great."

He ground his teeth, pointing at me viciously.

"Since you can't tolerate her, I'm going to the hospital right now to bring her back here."

"Let's see what you're actually going to do to me!"

Just then, his phone in his pocket suddenly buzzed frantically.

The custom ringtone sounded particularly grating in the dead silence of the hallway.

Ethan pulled out his phone, glanced at the screen, and his previously violent expression instantly softened.

He answered the call, deliberately gentling his voice.

"Hey, Vivian, don't be scared. I'll be right there..."

From the other end came a saccharine, obviously tearful female voice.

"Ethan, don't worry about me. I don't care if I die of pain in this hospital."

"Go back and make things right with Charlotte. Please don't let me damage your marriage..."

I let out a cold laugh.

"Playing innocent? I've seen how wild you get on top of my husband!"

"Charlotte! Watch your mouth!"

Ethan reacted like a dog whose tail had been stepped on, covering the phone's microphone and roaring at me.

I completely ignored his impotent rage, stepped forward, and before he could react, snatched his phone away.

Too fast for him to stop.

I hit the speakerphone button and turned the volume to maximum.

Vivian's sobbing echoed clearly through the living room.

"Charlotte... is that really you?"

Her voice was so fragile it seemed a breeze could knock her over, with just the right amount of grievance and panic.

"Please don't be angry at Ethan. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have bothered him after work hours."

"But I'm alone at the hospital getting an IV, and the needle infiltratedmy hand is so swollen. I'm really scared..."

"I just wanted someone to talk to. I really didn't mean anything else. Please believe me, okay?"

Listen to that! How clever!

Every sentence an apology, every sentence a declaration of war against me.

She was telling me: See? Your husband's heart is with me. I just crook my finger and he abandons you to come running.

Ethan hopped around anxiously beside me, reaching to grab the phone back.

"Charlotte, give me back my phone! Didn't you hear her hand is swollen!"

I dodged his hand and spoke coldly into the microphone.

"If your hand's swollen, call a nurse. Why are you looking for my husband? Can he remove your IV or suck out the swelling?"

"Didn't you keep saying you don't want to wreck my family?"

"So why are you sending ambiguous texts in the middle of the night? Are your fingers not controlled by your brain, or do you just naturally enjoy digging through other people's garbage for your meals?"

The crying on the other end suddenly stopped.

Vivian clearly hadn't expected me to tear off the facade so directly.

In the past, to preserve Ethan's dignity, I'd always tried to maintain appearances.

But now? I didn't want this man anymore. Why should I save face for her?

"Charlotte, how can you say that about me..."

Vivian's voice carried obvious embarrassment and anger.

"Ethan and I just have a spiritual connection. We never meant to hurt you."

"Love doesn't follow a first-come-first-served rule. The one who isn't loved is the real third party. Why can't you understand that?"

I almost laughed at her twisted logic.

"Spiritual connection? Was that on the hotel bed or on the yoga mat?"

"Vivian, do you think being a homewrecker is something to be proud of?"

"Believe me or not, tomorrow I'll post videos of all your 'connections' to your yoga studio's client group and let everyone see how pure you really are."

"Don't you dare!"

Ethan finally exploded completely.

He lunged forward and grabbed my wrist in a crushing grip.

The force was enough to nearly break my bones.

"Charlotte, have you lost your mind! Do you have to destroy everything before you're happy!"

His eyes were bloodshot, glaring at me while his other hand pried at my fingers, trying to wrestle the phone away.

Pain shot through my wrist, but I refused to let go of the phone.

"I'm destroying everything?"

I gritted my teeth, meeting his murderous gaze, fighting back word by word.

"Ethan, you two are the ones who've gone too far!"

"If you dare walk out that door to see her today, I'll make sure you both end up destroyed and disgraced!"

Vivian's terrified scream came through the phone.

"Ethan! Don't hit her! Come back, I'm scared..."

She was still pouring fuel on the fire.

Hearing Vivian's crying, Ethan's last thread of rationality snapped.

With a violent yank, he ripped the phone from my hand.

The momentum threw me backward. I stumbled and my lower back slammed hard into the edge of the marble table.

A dull thud.

Searing pain exploded from my back and spread through my entire body. My vision went black and cold sweat instantly soaked my clothes.

I slid down along the coffee table onto the floor, the pain so intense I couldn't speak.

Ethan clutched the phone, looking down at me from above.

There wasn't a trace of concern in his eyesonly extreme coldness and disgust.

"Charlotte, you're an unreasonable lunatic."

He straightened his disheveled collar, his tone as cold as if he were looking at a corpse.

"If you want to throw a fit, do it by yourself. I don't have time to waste on you."

With that, he murmured soothingly into the phone, "Vivian, don't be scared, I'll be right there," then turned and walked out without hesitation.

"Bang!"

The security door slammed shut with such force that the calendar on the wall fell to the floor.

The living room fell completely silent.

Only the clock on the wall continued its relentless ticking.

I curled up on the cold floor, clutching my aching back, tears finally streaming down uncontrollably.

This was the man I'd loved with everything I had for seven years.

For a lying mistress, he'd actually laid hands on me.

I closed my eyes, countless images flashing through my mind.

There was his silhouette cooking noodles for me in our rental apartment when we first married. There was his laughing face as he spun me around when I got promoted.

But in the end, all those images froze on his cold, disgusted eyes from just moments ago.

I wiped the tears from my eyes and slowly stood up, using the coffee table for support.

The pain in my back kept reminding me of what had just happened.

But the fire in my heart had completely extinguished.

In its place was endless ice and resolve.

I walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and watched that familiar black sedan speed away below, disappearing into the night.

Ethan, did you think you won?

Did you think you could enjoy my devotion while playing around on the side?

I picked up my phone from the sofa and dialed a number hidden at the very bottom of my contacts.

"Hello, is this Drake?"

A rough, irritable male voice came through.

"Who the hell is this? Calling in the middle of the nightyou got a death wish?"

I looked out at the pitch-black night sky, a cold smile curving my lips.

"I'm Ethan Hayes's wife. Drake, your fiance Vivian is sick and needs someone to take care of her."

"If you don't get there soon, she's going to die in my husband's bed."