I hadn’t expected Cassandra to chase after me.

The woman who was usually silent now overflowed with complaints.

“Tristan is my best friend, and you’re jealous of that? What a lunatic!”

“You might as well tie me to your belt like a dog—you’d suspect anyone anyway!”

“Think! I’m pregnant. What could possibly happen between us? If there really was something, would he dare say it out loud?”

Something inside me snapped.

“Yes—you’re nothing. It’s all my fault for being such a loser!” I roared, trembling. “I’ve endured you for too long!”

Every buried grievance rose up, striking me like whips. Only I knew how much this final straw had crushed me.

“Cassandra, when I drank myself half-dead with clients, you went with him to get a haircut. When I lay in a hospital bed after a car accident, you were out playing tennis with him. Every time I needed you, you were with your ‘best friend’—even today!”

My chest heaved, tears streaming.

“He mocked me to my face with those filthy words, and you flirted with him right in front of me. And when I finally broke down and called the police, you didn’t defend me—you screamed I was crazy!”

I wiped my face with shaking hands.

“From that moment on, Cassandra… we’re finished.”

Silence.

Then, a soft voice brushed my ear:

“Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.”

I turned—

She wasn’t talking to me. She was wearing headphones, playing games with Tristan through a microphone.

…

Their laughter and shouts echoed from the bedroom all night.

I sat alone on the balcony, Cassandra’s pregnancy test report clenched in my fist, and called the lawyer.

“Hello. Please draft a divorce agreement.”

The next morning, a stabbing stomachache woke me. I staggered through the house until I found her lounging on the sofa, legs crossed, phone in hand.

A notification chimed, and she smiled as if nothing had ever happened.

I called her name again and again before she finally looked up. My pale face seemed to startle her for a moment, but she quickly plastered on a smile, setting her phone aside to press my shoulders lightly.

“You’re not well. Don’t come with me for the prenatal checkup today. Just rest at home.”

Her voice was calm, as if yesterday’s storm had been erased. She always did this—let me drown alone at night, then acted like nothing happened in the morning.

The pain made me clutch her hand, desperate, but her other hand kept typing.

From outside, Tristan’s arrogant voice rang:

“Cassie! Your father’s here—what are you waiting for?”

She immediately pulled free, tossed her phone down, and ran to the door.

I collapsed, knocking the phone over with my elbow.

The screen lit up. A pinned group chat stared back at me: Tristan and His Harem.

I tapped it—and froze.

“Gareth Locke is so pathetic. I told you two weren’t a good match.”

“He drags every party down. Cassie, you should’ve just married Tristan!”

Tristan: ‘It’s my birthday. Don’t bring up that loser. Cassie promised me a cruise ship. I’ll be the man who becomes One Piece!’

“The Knight family’s cruise ship? Cassie, you’re incredible!”

Cassandra: ‘Kneel to your father. This life belongs to you.’

The phone slipped from my hand. My world caved in.

Tristan immediately sent a kneeling emoji.

“Your life belongs to me now. My order: don’t bring your family today!” “Cassie, Tristan feels sorry for your pregnancy. He even prepared essential oils for a back massage~ [smirk][smirk]”

It was like a bucket of ice water dumped over me, chilling me to the bone.

As expected—people can fake kindness, but not reality. When I first tried to fit in, everyone was as sweet as angels. But I was the fool who mistook politeness for sincerity. They were an unbreakable fortress. I was, and would always be, the unwanted outsider.

The cramps tore through me. Shaking, I grabbed my phone, taking screenshots one by one, saving every page.

By the time Cassandra came in to snatch it back, I was curled on the sofa, drenched in sweat. She didn’t even look at me, eager to leave.

“Honey, my best friends are taking me for the prenatal checkup today. You can’t get along with them anyway, so don’t come and ruin the mood.”

I clutched her shirt with trembling hands.

“Can we go another day? My stomach hurts. Can you stay with me… just today?”

It was my last attempt to give her a way out. If she still insisted on leaving, then I didn’t want her anymore.

From outside, Tristan smacked his lips impatiently.

“Hurry up, it’s boiling hot out here!”

Cassandra shoved my hand away, her face full of disgust.

“Why are you pretending? You were fine just now! A grown man pulling such a pathetic trick.”

She pushed me back onto the sofa. My heart sank.

Tristan strolled in, pinching Cassandra’s cheek playfully.

“Don’t be so fierce. Some men are just like that—sensitive, suspicious, always wanting the world to revolve around them. It’s normal, not even a flaw.”

Cassandra snorted, contempt dripping from her voice.

“If he were even a tenth as good as you, I wouldn’t care.”

Her eyes suddenly fell on Tristan’s open zipper. She reached out casually and tugged it up.

“Idiot. Didn’t you notice?”

Tristan let her fuss with it, grinning.

“Gentle! That hurts.”

She pressed it down harder, smirking.

“Where’s it hiding then?”

Their laughter faded as they disappeared down the hall.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Ella Knight.

“I’ll meet you at your cruise ship later.”

“Okay,” she answered. She didn’t know Cassandra at all—but she and I had been childhood sweethearts. Twenty years of friendship, six years of love. I knew better than anyone what true, pure companionship was.

And now, I wanted to see with my own eyes just how rotten this so-called marriage had become.

The sea breeze was heavy with salt. On the deck of the luxury cruise ship, laughter and shrieks echoed.

Behind sunglasses and a mask, I leaned against the railing, watching.

Cassandra wore a bikini, belly already starting to show, seated close beside Tristan in nothing but swim trunks. They played a vulgar game of passing tissues.

Tristan clamped down on the tissue with his teeth, leaving only a corner. Cassandra leaned in again and again, failing to catch it.

“Cassie lost! Time for punishment!” someone howled.

“Confess to someone in public! How about Tristan?” another jeered.

Tristan pulled Cassandra into his arms, grinning.

“Oh, how embarrassing!”

The crowd roared.

“What’s the point of confessing now?” someone shouted. “Tristan, what happened last time? Tell us in detail!”

Tristan puffed up with pride.

“Watch me—straight to the dragon!”

Cassandra blocked him with a playful scolding.

“You’re too rebellious!”

While they were fooling around, Tristan tugged the strap of her swimsuit and let it fly.

The tie came undone in an instant.

Cassandra shrieked, but before anyone could see, Tristan swept her into his arms and barked,

“Turn around! Don’t look!”

The waves crashed as he carefully retied the string, his fingertips lingering across her bare back.

She flushed, breathless. Their eyes met—heat sparking in the air.

And I… I watched from the shadows.

Fully armed, masked, like a rat hiding in the dark, spying on my own wife glowing in the sunlight—pregnant with my child—while another man held her without restraint.

She didn’t resist. She looked like she enjoyed it.

Beside me, Ella shifted angrily, ready to charge out, but I seized her wrist and shook my head.

After a long hesitation, I dialed Cassandra’s number.

From a distance, I saw her screen light up.

She glanced at it, let it ring once, twice—never answering.

Tristan caught sight of the word Husband and scoffed, turning away. “You promised to stay with me. Don’t let him distract you—and don’t distract me. Otherwise, we’re no longer best friends.”

Cassandra smiled, lifted her phone, and let it drop into a glass of water. Raising a brow, she teased,

“Your Majesty, satisfied now?”

Tristan finally nodded. Cassandra leaned in, fingers darting to his side until his laughter filled the sea breeze.

By the time I lowered my phone—the one I had been using to record—my tears had already soaked my mask.

Six years of love. And this is what it came to.

Cassandra… I hope you’re ready for hell.

Later, after they tired of their games, the group sat down. Tristan’s voice drifted toward me with the wind:

“On the night of Cassie’s wedding, I got drunk and joked about marrying whoever came first. She panicked—showed up in her wedding dress and Gareth’s tux.”

Laughter rippled around him.

I froze. That tux—my custom suit. She’d told me it was stained and lost at the cleaners.

Tristan smirked. “We played house, bowing to heaven and earth like when we were kids. I teased that after that, I couldn’t remarry—but I wanted a child. Guess what this fool did?”

Cassandra only smiled, sipping her tea, silent.

Encouraged by the crowd, Tristan beamed. “She took me seriously! She actually dragged me to do embryo culture!”

He nudged her. “Cassie, tell them. Where’s the baby?”

Cassandra tipped back her cup, her eyes dark.

“What’s in my belly right now is Tristan’s IVF child.”

Boom. My mind went blank.

Ella spat curses beside me, but all I could see was Cassandra’s cold, unbothered face.

Every memory twisted like a knife. She had lied about her “infertility,” lied about needing IVF.

I believed her. I trusted her.

I still remember the day the embryo was implanted—how she caressed her stomach, whispering tenderly,

“My dear, Mommy will make sure you and Daddy are the happiest people in the world.”

She wasn’t talking to me. She never was.

Tristan’s voice cut through my haze, laced with mockery:

“Cassie is brilliant. I don’t have to lift a finger, and I still get to be a father. Gareth did all the dirty work.”