My Husband Wanted Me To Cheat And I Went To The Don. Chapter 08
Nancy’s smile froze on her face.
His father waved a hand, voice exhausted. “Get out. Both of you. Get out of my sight.”
Charles turned and left. Nancy followed behind with red-rimmed eyes.
The housekeeper saw the blood and rushed for the first-aid kit.
“Please sit down, let me dress that wound—”
Charles ignored her.
His gaze fell on the stark white object on the coffee table.
“What’s that?”
The housekeeper grabbed the kit while glancing over. “That arrived yesterday—an invitation. Must have been sent to the wrong address. It has Madam’s name printed on it…”
Charles had already looked away, but that sentence snapped his focus back.
“What did you say? Whose name is on it?”
“Madam’s…”
The housekeeper didn’t know they were divorced.
“But Ms. Silvia married you ages ago, so this invitation is obviously a mistake.”
An invitation?
Silvia’s name?
Charles picked it up. Opened it.
His pupils dilated violently.
“Silvia, how dare you!!!”
The words were fury wrapped in anguish. Nancy hurried over.
She saw the two names printed on the invitation—Silvia & Richard.
Her face changed too.
“Charles, this has to be a prank. Silvia knows perfectly well it was a fake divorce—you’re supposed to remarry!”
“Besides, she and this Richard haven’t even known each other that long!”
The words eased Charles’s grip slightly. His fingers loosened around the card.
But the next second, Nancy murmured as if to herself—or maybe testing him:
“Unless… unless the night you brought him home to keep her company, she was well taken care of, and that’s why—”
“Shut up!!!”
Charles’s hand cracked across her face. “Silvia would never touch him!”
Nancy clutched her cheek in shock, too stunned to cry. Charles didn’t look at her again. He was already heading for the door.
He remembered now—when he’d called the number from the study, the person on the other end had said the bride was getting her makeup done.
The bride… was her?
No. Impossible.
She was doing this to punish him for divorcing her over Nancy. That was all.
Marry a college kid she’d known for days? Silvia wasn’t that kind of person.
She had a purity complex. She wouldn’t touch those boys—wouldn’t even let them hold her hand.
When he’d brought girls home to provoke her, she’d done the same thing.
She’d freeze him out for a few days, then stage some stunt.
Stay out all night. Take another man’s call right in front of him.
Every time, it gave him a twisted sense of satisfaction. This was no different.
He’d get there and probably find her sitting alone in the makeup room, waiting for him to come get her.
Then he’d mock her: “Silvia, how childish can you be?”
And she’d glare at him with watery eyes, then turn away in silence.
He’d coax her a little, and the whole thing would blow over.
Yes. That was definitely it.
He drove while building the narrative in his head.
Then another image flashed—the day Nancy had thrown a tantrum about not having a proper title and disappeared.
He’d gone to her campus to find her. That was when Richard had stepped forward.
“I heard you find college students to keep your wife company. I really need the money. Would I work?”
He’d done it a few times—brought men home to deal with his wife. Since he knew she’d never touch them, he made a point of picking good-looking ones.
Richard was the best-looking and the highest-achieving. Charles had been quite satisfied at the time—at least presentable enough that Silvia wouldn’t think he was being careless.
He hadn’t thought anything was off back then. But now, remembering—those eyes had been wrong.
He couldn’t put his finger on what it was. But looking back now, he felt uneasy.
The car stopped outside Nanshan Estate.
He pushed through the doors. The wedding venue was elegant and clean.
The first guest he saw was Mark.
“Charles?”