Chapter 2

That evening when Andre came home, I almost couldn't control myself from rushing over to tear him apart.

I wanted to demand why he'd deceived me like this.

Was it really all because I gave Marta a glass of fruit wine?

For four whole years, the torment I endured—from grief to worry, even preparing myself to spend a lifetime in celibacy with him—but in the end it was all just a joke.

I watched Andre walk calmly into the living room, pull me into his embrace, then kiss my forehead,

"Kingsley, tonight you can try those new techniques you learned. Who knows, maybe they'll work."

I stared hard at Andre, wanting to see if there was even a trace of guilt or anxiety on his face.

Finally I bit down hard and nodded,

"Alright!"

That night, Andre washed up and lay naked on the bed, while I put on lingerie at his request.

He raised an eyebrow, signaling me to get on top.

I laughed coldly, carefully studying his expression. Following his line of sight, I finally discovered something suspicious.

On the huge wedding photo opposite the bed, there was a faint gleam of light at his eyes.

I instantly understood why he'd been willing to try countless times.

Before I could react, Andre grabbed me and pushed me down.

Thinking about the unknown person behind that miniature camera,

I couldn't help feeling a wave of nausea, and with a "blech" I vomited, spraying it all over Andre.

Andre immediately frowned in disgust and shoved me away, jumping off the bed.

"Kingsley, if you find me repulsive just say so. No need to disgust me like this."

"Starting today, you sleep in the guest room. No need to force yourself anymore."

If this were any other time, I would have patiently coaxed him, then once again willingly tried, enduring the humiliation of serving him.

But this time, I just silently stood up, looked at him coldly, said "Fine," and turned to leave.

Andre froze, then with a crash, a teacup smashed to the floor,

"Kingsley, I knew your feelings for me weren't genuine. It's only been four years and you already find me disgusting, don't you?"

My figure paused. I turned back and looked at him with self-mockery,

"Andre, don't you find this disgusting?"

Andre looked at the seemingly knowing expression on my face and couldn't help freezing. All his angry rebukes instantly stuck on his face, his eyes guiltily avoiding mine,

"Kingsley, what are you talking about? We're a loving married couple—what's disgusting about that?"

I slammed the door shut with a bang, not wanting to look at him for another second.

That once cool and noble bearing now seemed nothing but sleazy and shameless.

The next day, while he was at work, I decisively hired a private investigator.

When the private investigator placed the investigated information and videos before me, I instantly collapsed into my chair. At that moment, I wanted to take a knife and chop him to pieces.

Andre, how could you be so deceitful? Aren't you afraid of going to hell?

Since that's the case, the evil you've committed, I will certainly repay double.