Chapter 1

My wife, Seraphina—a woman who commanded respect, a true queenpin in her own right—always insisted on having her "sisters" over for dinner. "That's what makes a family," she'd always say.

Watching me serve a table piled high with food, one of her friends grinned.

"Our Arthur is just *so* perfect, isn't he? Always so attentive, always holding down the fort like a true patriarch."

My expression remained unchanged, but I casually shot back, half-joking.

"Oh? What, is there some stingy 'kept man' out there I don't know about?"

Her friends froze, a flicker of panic in their eyes. But Seraphina just laughed, looping her arm through mine and nuzzling me playfully.

"Don't listen to their nonsense, darling. Besides you, who else in this world could ever be my husband?"

Seeing her act so nonchalant, I smiled.

But as I turned away, I dialed a number.

"Dad, Seraphina Caldwell is cheating. Make sure she rots in a prison cell."

My father on the other end of the line was silent for three seconds.

"Arthur, are you sure? Seraphina, she…"

I pulled the wedding ring from my left hand. The diamond dug into my palm, a painful, biting reminder.

"We've been married for ten years. Every brooch she owns was custom-made for her in Italy by me."

"But the one she's wearing today is a cheap plastic flower. Dad, do you really think I'm mistaken?"

"You know I won't tolerate any disrespect. Send over all the evidence of her smuggling and money laundering over the years. And while you're at it, get me the best lawyer. I want a divorce."

My father's voice hardened with anger. "Alright."

Half an hour later, an encrypted file landed on my phone.

I clicked open the first picture: a fresh-faced boy in a crisp white shirt, his arm around a woman's shoulder, smiling shyly.

On the wrist peeking from his sleeve was a wolf head tattoo, identical to Seraphina's.

Without a moment's hesitation, I drove straight to the company.

Minutes later, a young man with faded, well-worn jeans and dark hair ran out.

I glanced at his work badge: Julian Hayes.

The moment he saw me, his face went white with fear. He instinctively hid his hand behind his back.

But I'd already seen it: a Swiss custom-made watch.

Last year, on my birthday, I received a Swiss credit card statement.

One watch worth three million, one necklace worth fifty thousand.

The necklace was mine.

The watch was on his wrist.

I scoffed, getting straight to the point.

"Mr. Hayes, your wife has similar taste to mine, it seems. Even the custom-made watch designs are identical."

Julian trembled at my words, his lips parting and closing for a full minute before he stammered out.

"It… it's… it's true… maybe all women have similar taste."

His fingers, clutching at the hem of his shirt, were turning white.

"Alright, drop the act."

"You're her 'kept man,' aren't you?"

Seeing me lay it all bare, Julian trembled even harder, a panicked mess.

"Please don't misunderstand, it was just… Ms. Caldwell fainted from low blood sugar again, and I just helped her out once."

"Ms. Caldwell's friends thought I was very attentive, so they were just joking around."

"I'm truly sorry if I caused any misunderstanding."

With that, he even exaggeratedly bowed ninety degrees to me.

He looked like a poor, wronged college student. If I hadn't seen the manipulative ways he'd charmed Seraphina, I might have actually fallen for it.

Half a month ago, he posted a video on social media.

A woman was swiping her card at a car dealership, next to a Porsche.

His caption: [Wanted a new car, and my lady came through with her card.]

At that very moment, I was home, burning up with a fever until I passed out.

I called Seraphina, asking her to take me to the hospital.

She panicked for a split second, but then her voice turned hoarse, as if she was suppressing something.

"Honey, I'll send the housekeeper to take you. I have something urgent here I can't leave."

An hour later, my fever had spiraled into pneumonia, and I was in the ER, fighting for my life.

Meanwhile, he posted a photo lying in the car. The tattoo on the woman's collarbone—my initials—was adorned with suggestive red marks.

Caption: [Not only does my sugar mama treat me right, but she's got a soft touch where it counts.]

When Seraphina finally rushed to the hospital, her shirt buttons were still undone.

She threw herself by my bedside, her eyes red-rimmed.

Back then, I naively thought she was worried about me. But now, I knew it was nothing more than the phantom guilt of a woman fresh from her illicit affair.

A wave of nausea washed over me. This man? This slimy kept man was worth Seraphina betraying me for?

Too disgusted to watch his pitiful act any longer, I turned and walked away.

But just as I got into my car, Seraphina called.

The moment I answered, her voice was frantic.

"Why did you suddenly decide to come to the office?"