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After Being Beaten by My Wife's Boyfriend Novel Cover

After Being Beaten by My Wife's Boyfriend

A wealthy husband is mistaken for a homewrecker by his wife's secret lover after a brief flirtation. Armed with a self-righteous mob, the boyfriend trashes his estate to punish his supposed immorality. Looking at millions of dollars in ruined luxury antiques, the billionaire decides he has had enough of funding his wife's toy boy. He contacts his lawyers to draft a ruthless divorce that leaves her penniless, while forcing the intruders to pay for every single cent of the destruction.
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Chapter 1

Just for exchanging a few flirtatious words with my wife, I was mistaken for a homewrecker by her "boyfriend."

He barged into my house with a group of self-proclaimed "Guardians of Morality," dedicated to punishing immoral men.

"What? You have the guts to seduce a woman but can't admit it?"

"From the moment you became a homewrecker, you should have expected this day would come!"

"Men should abide by morality too. We, the Guardians of Morality, are here to punish you scumbag!"

The group shouted curses while wrecking my house in a fury.

Looking at the mess, I calmly sent a message to the lawyer of my company.

[Draft a divorce agreement in line with the prenuptial agreement, and make sure Daisy leaves with nothing.]

[Also, have them compensate for the damage to my luxury goods and priceless antiques worth millions.]

Using my money to support a toy boy was outrageous!

——

I had just finished a video conference with some board members when I stumbled upon an outdoor livestream.

The screen showed a group of people parading down the street with a banner reading: [Guardians of Morality: Punishing Homewreckers.]

They were fervently shouting into their headsets and interacting with the viewers.

"Everyone, please follow and like. The host will soon broadcast a live punishment of a homewrecker. This is more exciting than catching a female one!"

As they walked, they reached the entrance of a residential complex.

I was taken aback—it was my complex.

The comments section was buzzing.

[No way, this homewrecker lives in my neighborhood? Disgusting!]

[I heard the more upscale the complex, the more homewreckers there are.]

[I hate men who become homewreckers the most. They're useless and morally corrupt. Hurry up, I can't wait to see them catch this guy!]

As the viewership soared, the host, filled with excitement, urged everyone to follow and like.

He even promised to rush to the homewrecker's house once they hit a hundred thousand followers.

I usually have no interest in such streams and was about to swipe away when I recognized someone on the screen.

My wife's new assistant, Webster Leopold.

After we got married, my wife said she didn't want to rely on me financially and wanted to establish her own career.

I funded her ventures in luxury stores, beauty salons, yoga studios, and so on.

All of them failed.

Yet, she was undeterred, claiming she wanted to start a business and become a CEO. So, I gave her a subsidiary to manage.

It was more to keep her occupied and entertained.

To show her loyalty, she would always have me review the resumes of any male employees she hired.

That's why I remembered Webster Leopold.

At this moment, Webster appeared on camera, his eyes brimming with tears of indignation and sorrow, appealing to the audience.

"My girlfriend and I have always had a great relationship, but this shameless scumbag keeps sending disgusting messages to her and threatening me, saying if I don't break up with her, he'll get her pregnant and make me a laughingstock."

[Are there still such shameless men these days?]

Webster's righteous anger resonated with the viewers, who were equally outraged, vowing to help him bring down this despicable homewrecker.

I couldn't believe it. What a small world, to stumble upon such drama involving my own employee.

I exited the livestream and then called my wife.

"Honey, is your assistant Webster not at work today?"

"He took the day off. Why?"

"It seems he's in some trouble. Maybe you should check in with him and see if there's anything we can do to help. After all, he's one of our employees, and we can't let outsiders bully him."

After hanging up, the doorbell rang.

As soon as I opened the door, someone push pushed me back.

A group of people streamed in.

"Look, everyone, here's the homewrecker we're punishing today."

"Living in such a luxurious house alone, obviously, he got it by conning women."

Barely standing, several phones were thrust into my face.

Insults filled the air.

I looked up—weren't these the Guardians of Morality from the livestream?

How did they end up at my place?

I started to explain, "You must be mistaken..."

Before I could finish, Webster suddenly punched me in the face.

"You filthy scum! How dare you live off my girlfriend's money like this?"

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