Chapter 3

According to the private investigator, Hannah's first affair had been with her boss, Keith Ward.

Keith and Victor Vance, the ruthless CEO of Vance Enterprises, were longtime drinking buddies. During a private executive party, Victor took an instant liking to Hannah.

Keith, playing the "generous" host, casually gifted Hannah to him like an expensive bottle of wine. That was how Hannah officially became part of Victor's private harem.

Keith was bad enough, using his power to sleep with subordinates, but Victor was an outright sociopath with an insane god complex. Once he slept with a woman, he forbade anyone else from touching her—including her lawful husband.

Victor even employed a private medical team. Every single day, he gathered all twenty-four women to undergo an intimate physical checkup by his medical staff.

If any woman was found to have slept with her husband the night before, she would face terrifying retaliation.

None of those women dared to resist him. In fact, they fought each other to please him. Victor didn't just hold blackmail on them—he showered anyone who kept him happy with unfathomable amounts of cash, luxury cars, and real estate.

The truth was buried deep beneath non-disclosure agreements and payoffs. It had taken all of my investigator's underground connections to dig it out.

Learning all of this nearly tore my sanity apart.

I had never imagined someone could be so depraved, so utterly vile.

To satisfy his sick ego, he had enslaved twenty-four married women, tearing apart twenty-four innocent families.

And I was one of those ruined men!

I was never a man to hesitate. With the undeniable proof in hand, I immediately printed out a set of divorce papers. Once trust is broken, it's gone forever.

I refused to let this badge of shame stay on my head for another second.

When I slapped the divorce papers on the kitchen counter, Hannah looked panicked for a second, but she quickly regained her composure.

"Mark," she said flatly, "it seems you already know."

I glared at her, my voice dripping with venom. "Don't say my name! You don't have the right!"

"Selling your dignity for dirty money, letting yourself be passed around like a cheap piece of cargo! I have no use for a shameless whore like you!"

"Sign these papers right now. We are done. Completely done!"

Hannah didn't even glance at the document. She grabbed the papers, ripped them into halves, and tossed them into the trash. "Divorce? Mr. Vance said I'm not allowed to."

Hearing that made my chest explode with anger. "He said you can't, so you won't? Who the fuck does he think he is?!"

Hannah crossed her arms with smug confidence. "Because Mr. Vance has a fetish for married women. He hates divorced divorcees. To keep him happy, I will never divorce you."

I pointed a trembling finger at her, my teeth grinding together. "Look at yourself! How are you any different from a dog on a leash? You threw away your entire self-respect for some cash!"

Hannah let out a cold smirk. "Self-respect? How much is that worth per pound? Can self-respect put food on the table?"

"Mark, I know this hurts your tiny pride. But let's make a deal: keep your mouth shut and stay married to me, and I'll give you a third of whatever Mr. Vance gives me."

"If I remember right, you're locked into a thirty-year mortgage and a heavy car loan, aren't you? If you play along, you could pay off that entire house in less than two years. How about it?"

Her words hit me like a physical blow.

Back when we got married, I drained my savings for the down payment, locking myself into thirty years of relentless mortgage payments.

My salary barely covered our expenses, and every month felt like a suffocating grind just to keep our heads above water.

And now, thirty years of back-breaking debt could be completely wiped out in just two years—if I simply swallowed my pride and wore a green hat?

My dignity on one side, and the crushing weight of reality on the other. I froze in utter turmoil.