My CEO husband went crazy throwing money around after he got drunk.

The bed and table were both covered in cash, weighted down with liquor bottles.

I thought it was funny, so I recorded a video and posted it online. The comments exploded.

[This is literally how they set up tables at high-end hostess clubs. Your husband's a regular.]

[And you're laughing? Girl, your husband is obviously a seasoned john.]

[Get tested ASAP, collect evidence, and lock down the finances NOW!]

I stared at the screen, frozen.

I searched through all of Tyler's things but couldn't find a single clue.

Until he rolled over, instinctively pulled me close, and mumbled.

"Babe, why are your boobs so small? You should get work done like the other girls."

——

I went rigid. The world fell silent—nothing but the sound of Tyler Gilbert's breathing in my ear.

The next second, his eyes snapped open.

Meeting my red-rimmed gaze, guilt flickered across his face. He stammered.

"Baby... did I just... say something weird?"

I lied without thinking, shaking my head.

Tyler let out a breath and pulled me tight.

Breathing in his familiar scent, my voice cracked.

"Tyler, have you ever done anything to betray me?"

His arms tightened around me.

"How could I?"

"I love you the most. Only you."

Then soft snoring filled the silence.

I smiled bitterly as tears streamed down my face.

Three days later, when Tyler went out drinking with the guys as usual, I followed him for the first time.

In the dim private room of an upscale club, a row of girls stood waiting—delicate faces, slim figures, perfect curves.

Tyler sat dead center. Cigarette smoke obscured his face; I couldn't read his expression.

His buddies pressed cash under liquor bottles, signaling the girls to drink.

The setup was identical to what Tyler had done at home.

Exactly the same.

My nails dug into my palms.

The smoke cleared. Tyler's lips curled as he watched the girls drain bottle after bottle.

Liquid spilled down, soaking through fabric, the round curves beneath faintly visible.

His eyes held nothing but raw hunger.

I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to watch any more of this disgusting scene.

Tyler really had cheated.

My heart clenched in spasms. Tears wouldn't stop falling.

I caught my reflection in the glass and saw an idiot staring back.

An idiot Tyler had played for five full years.

Five years together.

He was a titan in the business world—powerful, untouchable.

Everyone said I was lucky. That being loved exclusively by a man like Tyler Gilbert was a blessing.

I believed them.

But tonight, reality shattered everything.

All those words praising my luck now felt like blades through my chest.

I couldn't breathe.

A familiar voice came from behind me.

"Sis... sister-in-law?"

Tyler's childhood friend approached, guilt written all over his face.

"Sister-in-law, why are you here?"

He noticed my tears and looked away, unable to meet my eyes.

The noisy room went dead silent.

The girls glanced between me and Tyler, confused.

I smiled bitterly and turned to my husband.

"Wish you have fun."

After that, I covered my face and ran off.

I don't understand why I would say something like that to Tyler, and I understand even less why I would instinctively run away.

Clearly, the one who did something wrong was him.

But the one who fled in a panic was me.

Tyler caught up in just a few steps. He gripped my wrist tight, pulling me into his arms.

"Emily! Listen to me!"

"It's not what you think!"

I was already crying so hard I couldn't control myself, my words coming out broken.

"If it's not like that, then what is it?! I saw you with my own eyes, all over another woman—how are you going to explain that!"

I tried to shake off his hand, but he only held tighter, until red marks appeared on my wrist.

"It was those guys who wanted to come have some fun. I was just keeping them company."

"You know who I am—don't you?"

The more he spoke, the more worked up he got, veins bulging on his forehead.

"Emily, believe me!"

But I laughed out loud.

And as I laughed, tears fell again.

It was precisely because I used to know what kind of person Tyler was—and now I'd discovered he'd become this—that I found it unbelievable.

He reached out and wiped the tears from my face, softening his voice.

"Emily, I swear to you, I have never slept with any other woman."

"In my heart, there will forever only be you."

I turned my face away, biting my lip hard.

"So you admit you've had other borderline behavior with other women, is that it?"

My whole body trembled. I fought to restrain emotions already on the verge of collapse.

Word by word, I said it.

"Tyler, you think that as long as it didn't go to the last step, it doesn't count as cheating."

"Is that right?"

He froze.

His mouth opened and closed, but he couldn't manage a single complete sentence.

I forced a bitter smile, enduring the pain in my heart as I wanted to say, "Let's get a divorce."

But those three words were stuck in my throat. No matter what, I couldn't say them.

I couldn't cut off five years of feelings in an instant. I couldn't be like other people, saying I'd leave and then just leaving.

Tyler stepped forward and hugged me tight, his tears falling onto my cheeks.

"Emily, I was wrong. I really was wrong!"

"I'll never do this again. Can you forgive me this one time?!"

I didn't push him away. I let him hold me, standing there blankly.

I felt the familiar warmth of his body, but at this moment, it felt unbelievably foreign.

And disgusting.

He kept swearing oaths.

Swearing he had never fallen for any other woman, never slept with any other woman.

"Emily, I promise I won't even do this kind of thing again! I promise that from now on, there won't be a second woman around me besides you!"

He said it decisively, his tone sincere.

I looked at him in a daze, not knowing what to say.

Until my phone screen flashed with a text from an unknown number.

Inside were several intimate photos of Tyler and a woman in bed.

With a caption.

"Your husband is really good in bed."

"Mr. Gilbert is truly top-tier. Really great in bed."

Tyler was close enough to see the photos too.

I lifted my head, and tears instantly fell.

I could no longer hold back the collapse inside me. I slapped him hard across the face.

"Disgusting!"

He narrowed his eyes at the photos, then his eyes went wide.

"This is fake! It has to be photoshopped! Or AI!"

"Someone is definitely trying to set me up! Believe me!"

I looked at the timestamp on the photo. A month ago.

That night, Tyler came home late, reeking of alcohol. He said he'd passed out in an empty room at the club for three hours.

Turns out he'd passed out in another woman's bed.

I exhaled slowly, completely drained.

"The time and place are right there. What's left to argue?"

"Tyler, no one is setting you up."

"Stop lying to me."

But he grabbed my wrist and wouldn't let go.

"There has to be some misunderstanding! I'll explain everything!"

He called Quinn Gilbert, his assistant, and ordered him to find the woman in the photo within thirty minutes.

Maybe some part of me still trusted Tyler. Or maybe I was just lying to myself.

Either way, I followed him back into the private room.

The beautiful women were gone. Only Tyler's inner circle remained, their faces grim.

The moment he pulled me inside, they all started talking over each other.

"There has to be a misunderstanding. You have to believe Tyler."

"He's so devoted—he won't even hire female secretaries. No way he'd betray you."

"Remember when his grandma refused to approve your marriage? Tyler locked himself in his study and threatened to die if he couldn't marry you."

I didn't speak. Just stared at the tips of my shoes.

Back then, Tyler had locked himself away for five days. No food. No water.

Only after Samantha Gilbert, his grandmother, finally agreed did he come out.

He'd lost so much weight he barely looked human.

I cried and called him stupid.

But he held me tight and whispered, "If I can't marry you, there's no point in living."

Neither of us could've imagined it then.

That a few years later, he'd do something this disgusting.

The door swung open.

The woman was even prettier in person.

The instant she saw me, she dropped to her knees.

"Ma'am! Please—give Tyler to me! I'm begging you!"

Tears slid down my cheeks again.

I stood there, numb, as she clutched at my clothes.

Tyler rushed over and yanked her away. He towered over her, eyes blazing.

"Who the hell are you?! Why are you doing this?! Why are you trying to ruin me?!"

But she only cried harder.

"You're refusing to take responsibility?! That night, you told me you were divorcing your wife!"

"You said you loved me most! You said you'd marry me and make me Mrs. Gilbert!"

"Bullshit!"

Tyler completely lost it. His usual composure shattered.

"I was drunk, but not that drunk! I never said any of that! And I sure as hell didn't sleep with you!"

"Who sent you?! Who's trying to destroy my family?!"

The woman laughed through her tears—wild, unhinged.

"Everything you said, everything you did—why won't you admit it?!"

"I'm pregnant with your child. If you don't believe me, we'll do a DNA test. Then we'll see whose story falls apart."