I Faked an Affair for a Divorce but My Cold Husband Refused to Let Me Go Chapter 02
Less than two seconds later, I got a reply.
Lucas: [Who are you?]
I changed clothes slowly, almost deliberately dragging out my reply.
Was he about to explode, dying to tear the anonymous person apart?
He’d always been the golden boy, perfect since he was young, and now someone else was yanking his emotions around, and it was me, the woman he’d always kept under his control.
Three years of emptiness and pain finally gave me a sliver of satisfaction.
I changed into regular clothes. In that brief stretch of time, Lucas sent two more messages:
[Stop with this cheap fake AI editing. Tell me what you want!]
[I’ll give you one chance to confess everything. Otherwise, I’ll make you regret ever being born.]
I let out a low laugh.
[Mr. Fred, whether it was AI or not, why didn’t you just ask your wife?]
[Those hickeys on your wife’s neck won’t fade that fast (＾ｖ＾).]
I’d dared to say it because I knew Lucas had been overseas closing a huge deal.
He wouldn’t be back for at least two weeks.
The next moment, my own phone rang.
I jolted.
The ringtone blared. It was Lucas.
I pressed my lips together and stared at the screen until it stopped.
Then it lit up again. He kept calling, relentless.
I understood then that he’d actually been pushed past his limit.
My heart hammered. It felt like I was walking a thin line, playing a dangerous game I couldn’t control.
I sent: [Mr. Fred, stop calling. We were together all night. She’s exhausted and asleep.]
The calls finally stopped.
My phone went dead silent.
Using the anonymous SIM card, I sent another message:
[I didn’t mean to come between you and your wife, Mr. Fred. Your wife and I really care for each other. I know you’re a reasonable man, so please divorce her soon and let her go. Otherwise everyone would find out you’d been cheated on, and you’d be publicly humiliated.]
Lucas never replied again.
With my hands still shaking, I threw the torn slip away. After I checked out, I went back to the villa.
The housekeepers were cleaning.
Everything looked perfectly normal, so quiet it was as if nothing had happened.
I washed up and went to bed.
At dawn, when the sky was just starting to get light, I heard a loud engine, then the screech of tires and a hard stop.
By the time I processed it and scrambled awake, someone was already knocking on my bedroom door.
“Joyce, open the door.”
The voice was deep and cold, calm but strained, full of impatience and tension.
I went on full alert, as if I’d been doused in cold water.
It was Lucas.
