Chapter 1

"Babe, my boss won't let you touch me. He's inspecting me tomorrow."

A man being banned from touching his own wife—hearing this happen to my best friend shattered my entire worldview.

He even told me his wife’s boss had built a private SnapChat "harem" of twenty-four women.

When I saw the screenshot of that group, all the blood drained from my face.

Because the twenty-fourth woman in that group looked exactly like my wife!

Two nights ago, my childhood friend Tyler broke down while we were having beers.

He said he had tried to get intimate with his wife, only to be coldly rejected. Her excuse? Her boss had ordered her not to let her husband lay a single finger on her.

Worse, the boss ran a physical inspection on her every single day. If she was caught being "unfaithful" to him with her own husband, there would be severe consequences.

To be honest, the utter absurdity of it left me completely dumbfounded.

Since when did cheating wives guard their purity so proudly for their side pieces?

Tyler wept like a broken child, sobbing uncontrollably. "That bastard is a monster! She's my wife—why the hell can't I touch her? He already keeps more than twenty female employees on a leash. Why won't he let my wife go?!"

Furious and shaking, he shoved his phone in front of me, showing me a screenshot of a SnapChat group. The content completely made my stomach turn.

Those twenty-three women weren't just chatting casually—whenever the boss showed up, they all addressed him as "Hubby," desperately competing for his attention like concubines in an ancient palace.

Suddenly, a photo in the thread caught my eye. My pupils shrank violently.

The woman in the photo was my wife, Hannah!

How was that even possible?

This group was clearly a billionaire's private harem. Every single woman in it was his personal toy. So how on earth did my wife end up there?

The photo had been posted by the boss himself, welcoming a new member:

"Here is Number Twenty-Four. Treat your new sister well."

"Hi everyone, I'm Number Twenty-Four. So glad to be part of the family. I promise to serve our Hubby well alongside all of you."

There were no real names, only numbers. The first to join was Number One, and my wife, the latest addition, was Number Twenty-Four.

That was where the screenshots ended. I stared at the screen, pale and frozen, my heart plummeting into a bottomless abyss.

I couldn't hear another word Tyler said. I mumbled a hasty excuse and rushed straight home, desperate to confront Hannah.

The house was pitch-black and empty.

I called her phone. It was turned off!

Recalling the photo I had just seen, a sickening thought crept into my mind:

Was Hannah at her boss's place right this second?

Once suspicion takes root in a man's heart, it spreads like wildfire, gnawing at every piece of sanity.

I redialed her number every few minutes, but it went straight to voicemail.

It wasn't until past nine that night that the front door finally clicked open.

Hannah walked in, clutching her lower back, her face drained of energy. And right there on her collarbone and neck were several glaring red marks—unmistakable hickeys!

The sight made my blood boil. I was now certain she had spent the entire day in bed with another man.

"Hannah! Did you have fun with your boss today? Leaving me hanging and coming home this late!" I roared. "Do you still care about this home? Do you even remember you have a husband?!"

Hannah stiffened, panicking for a fraction of a second. "Mark... what are you talking about? I don't understand."

Seeing her act innocent only fueled my rage. I thrust Tyler's screenshot right in front of her face. "Don't understand? The proof is right here! Take a good look!"

"Recognize this photo? Isn't that you, Number Twenty-Four?!"

Seeing the screenshot, Hannah turned ghost-white, fumbling frantically. "No! Mark, that's not me at all! I've never joined a gross group like that!"

"If you don't believe me... here, check my phone!"

She hurriedly unlocked her phone and shoved it into my hands.

I snatched it and dug through every messaging app, secondary profile, and hidden folder. There was no trace of the group.

What was going on?

Hannah looked at me timidly. "Mark, where did you even get that screenshot?"

After a pause, I told her about Tyler's breakdown.

Hannah immediately jumped in. "Mark, Lily and I work at totally different companies! How could I possibly be in her boss's group?"

"That woman just happens to look like me, and with all the beauty filters on, anyone can look similar."

I paused.

She was right.

Tyler's wife, Lily, worked at Vance Enterprises, while Hannah was employed at DreamCorp. They had completely different bosses who had nothing to do with each other.

A slight wave of relief washed over me, but my expression remained dark.

"Then why did you come home so late with your phone off? And what the hell are those marks on your neck?"