One day, I come across a post on the Internet.

The original poster keeps boasting about the fact that all three children belonging to his older brother are actually his spawn.

"The funniest thing is, there was once when he suspected the origins of his children. So, he got someone to take the children to take a paternity test.

"Guess who he ordered? That's right—it's me, his most trusted younger brother! I get to sleep with his wife whenever I want. The money he earns all goes to my sons. This means he's working for me for the rest of his life!

"Just the thought of that makes me happy to no end! Ahahaha!"

But the thing is, I'm the older brother who's mentioned in the post.

My name was Ryder Kessler.

Ever since I read my younger brother, Jack Kessler's post, the air around me grew unnervingly cold. It was as if I had been thrust straight into the dead of winter.

In that post, Jack proudly detailed how he had seduced my wife, Tara Knight. He even boasted that all three of my children were actually his.

He wrote, "Sharing the same blood type as my brother is perfect. He would never realize that the children he had raised with such care weren't his own.

"The most absurd part was that he had once been suspicious and had even ordered a paternity test for them. And who did he assign to carry it out? Naturally, his most trusted brother—me."

Indeed, that was exactly how it had happened.

Tara and I went to high school together. I gave her everything I possibly could.

When we got married, her family asked for 38,800 dollars as part of the marriage arrangements.

I couldn't afford it at the time, so I worked during the day and delivered takeout at night. With nothing but my own hard work, I gradually saved every dollar.

For all those years, I survived on just 500 dollars a month. That sum had to cover gas as well. I handed every remaining penny to Tara.

But as our three children grew, they looked less and less like me. Had no one else said anything, I would never have considered having them undergo a paternity test.

Seeing the line on the report that confirmed they were indeed mine haunted me with guilt for a long time. I even took on extra side jobs just to buy Tara a diamond bracelet.

In the end, it was the children's biological father who ensured I bore the crown of shame.

Suppressing the ache in my chest, I kept reading Jack's post.

"While my brother’s out working his fingers to the bone, I’m right there in their bedroom, enjoying his wife..

"Not only can I sleep with her whenever I want, but all his assets will eventually go to my sons. He'll even spend his whole life working for me. Hahaha. It feels insanely good."

In the comment section, people mocked Jack, posting things like, "You've clearly been watching too much TV," or, "Stop dreaming, man."

Jack wasn't satisfied and decided to post a photo.

"I knew you bunch of losers wouldn't believe me. Here's the proof."

In the photo, a woman leaned shyly against a man's broad chest. Their bare, smooth shoulders were exposed, and the intimacy between them was almost tangible.

Even so, the man holding her looked nothing like the one in the wedding photo behind them. Though their eyes were blurred, I recognized them at once. The couple embracing was none other than Tara and Jack.

As for me, I was the groom in the photo behind them.

In that instant, a booming noise rattled my mind, and the world went utterly silent.

Jack went on, "You can't deny our relationship now, can you? My sister-in-law had vowed to remain chaste for me. That's why she hasn't shared a bed with my brother for three years.

"The last time she allowed my brother to sleep with her was purely out of duty. She wanted our child to be legally registered under his name.

"Anyway, I had already grown bored with her. Were she not my brother's beloved wife, I wouldn't have touched her. Not even money would have tempted me."

His words dripped with the smug satisfaction of someone who knew he had complete control in this relationship.

When asked if he was afraid I would see the post, Jack shot back arrogantly, "Afraid? Ha! My brother's such a dinosaur. All he ever thinks about is work. He doesn't know a thing about anything else. Come on, why else would his wife have cheated on him?"

Jack was right. If I hadn't needed to conduct market research, I never would have opened this app in the first place.

But a few minutes later, Jack deleted the photo. Fortunately, I had already taken screenshots of his entire post.

I tried using my fingerprint to open the door, but, just like always, it was locked from the inside. I couldn't get in.

After making more than a dozen calls, Tara finally opened the door. Her face was contorted with irritation.

"Why are you in such a hurry? Can't you see I'm swamped in here? Every time you come home, you act like the king of the place. Is this your home or a hotel?

Jack peeked out from behind her. "Ryder, this is on you. Men should recognize and appreciate the effort their wives put in, or they'll end up as lonely old bachelors."

Tara gave him a shy glance.

I had only wanted to get inside when I found the door locked. But before I could speak, I was already met with a flood of accusations.

I had reminded Tara that our neighborhood was safe. There was no reason to keep the door locked all the time.

But she had immediately shot back, saying, "My children are my whole world. If anything happened to them, I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

Looking back now, she was probably afraid I'd come home early and catch them in the act.

Noticing her slightly disheveled hair and flushed lips, I suddenly realized how obvious the signs had been. It was a shame I had never suspected a thing.

After all, Jack and I had always had each other's backs since we were young. Even when I had doubts about my partner, he was the one person I never questioned.

I never imagined that the two of them would team up to deliver such a crushing blow.

Dinner time soon arrived. As usual, the three kids clung to Jack, begging him to play short videos. They liked scrolling on their phones while eating—something I had always forbidden.

I couldn't stay silent. "Enough! Looking at your phone during mealtime will hurt your eyes. Henry, go bring your brother and sister back to the table."

My oldest son, Henry Kessler, hugged Jack even tighter. "No! I want to sit with Uncle Jack."

Jack placed his phone in front of him and smiled at me. "Ryder, kids are meant to be spoiled. Why are you being so strict?"

The three little ones were thrilled. "Thank you, Uncle Jack," they murmured sweetly.

Jack gave each of their cheeks a playful pinch. "If I'm being this generous, you shouldn't be calling me 'Uncle Jack.' Call me 'Dad.' Say it with me… Dad… Dad…"

Carrying a pot of soup, Tara shot him a pointed look. "Don't be ridiculous," she snapped.

Jack remained unfazed. "What's the big deal? We men just enjoy taking on the 'dad' role. Ryder gets it, doesn't he?"

Of course I did.

Whenever Jack had the kids call him "Dad", I would tease him for wanting to be a father and urged him to have one of his own.

I never imagined that I was the fool all along. Jack was already a father, not to one, but to three children.

This time, I didn't let things slide. With a frown, I snapped, "Do you think it's acceptable to make jokes like this? Do you even know what proper conduct and moral principles are? If you want to be a dad, then go find yourself a wife…"

Stop spending all your time lusting after someone else's.

It was the first time I'd lost my temper in front of Jack. He looked genuinely startled.

But before I could finish speaking, Tara slammed the pot of soup onto the floor with a loud bang.

Her voice was firm and unyielding. "Ryder, can you leave your work frustrations at the office? No one here is required to put up with your bad mood."

With that, she led Jack and the three children into the playroom.

Turning to me, she threw out one final line, "Until you acknowledge your wrongdoing and apologize, you have no right to speak to us."

Just a door away, their laughter and joyful voices spilled out. It almost felt like they were a real family.

Outside, cups and plates lay strewn across the floor. The lone figure reflected in the window looked utterly pitiful.

Every argument ended the same way. I had pampered Tara far too much. Only when I bent over backward to appease her would she grudgingly forgive me.

But what had I really gained all these years? Tara didn't just betray me repeatedly—she had three children that weren't mine and carried on her affair in our house.

I hadn't yet decided what I would do. Little did I know, they had already made the choice for me.

One evening, I forgot to drink the warm milk Tara had given me and quietly poured it down the bathroom drain.

That same night, Jack entered Tara's room.

After a while, I decided to check the security footage. With her hand pressed to her mouth, Tara started gagging.

When I returned home that night, she spoke sharply, "Henry's asking for a little sister again. I'll be in your room tonight."

My entire body trembled with rage. I knew Tara was pregnant. Once again, she was scheming to have her child with Jack legally registered under my name.

When she was carrying their third child, Morgan Kessler, she had acted exactly the same.

Once it was over, she had pushed me off the bed and forbade me from coming near her.

Did she really think I would fall for that trick a second time?

I wiped my mouth with a napkin. "It's fine. We already have enough children."

For the sake of her unborn baby, I had expected Tara to humble herself and try to appease me.

But having grown used to bossing me around, it seemed impossible that she and Jack would ever show me the slightest respect.

Still, I never could have imagined they'd go so far as to drug my soup.

As Tara lunged to rip my clothes off, Jack stood silently by the bed.