He Gave Me Love but Gave Others His Desire

The young, beautiful girl's face was full of deer-like panic, entirely different from her aggressive demeanor that day.

"Please step aside. I don't have any benefactor. This is all slander." She cried pitifully, but she was cornered and couldn't leave.

The chopping sounds from the kitchen suddenly stopped. Instinctively, I glanced toward it. Matthew was typing rapidly on his phone, his brows furrowed tightly. Even from his profile, his seething anger was evident.

In no time, a dozen bodyguards charged into the scene, aggressive and intimidating. They surrounded Lindsay protectively, as if she were a treasure.

Leading them, a poised yet commanding lawyer said, "Miss Zegler is our young madam. Regarding the online defamation, I will fully pursue legal action on behalf of Mr. Hawk. You reporters spreading baseless slander seem unfit for your profession. I expect to see your resignation announcements by tomorrow."

The domineering display of husbandly protection sent the live-stream viewers into a frenzy: "The CEO's sweet wife, I'm obsessed!"

"She's so lucky! Who can find out who her husband is? He must be a total dreamboat."

The remote slipped from my hand. I thought I had numbed myself over the past few days, but why did my chest still ache so fiercely? My face turned pale in an instant.

The sound of the remote hitting the floor startled Matthew. He rushed over in a panic. Seeing my pallid face, he anxiously asked, "Miranda, are you feeling unwell? I'll take you to the hospital right now."

His expression was sincere and intense, clearly showing how much he adored me. But it didn't stop him from keeping his mistress behind my back.

In my daze, I found it absurd. Could a man truly split his deep affection between two women?

"I'm fine. I just got spooked by a horror movie," I said flatly, calmly pulling his hand away. After my repeated assurances, Matthew finally gave up on taking me to the hospital.

At dinner, the table was filled with dishes I loved. Matthew meticulously peeled shrimp and picked out chicken bones for me, but his frequent texting and the tender look in his eyes when glancing at his phone betrayed his divided attention.

I noticed everything but stayed silent, quietly enjoying the meal. I endured until nighttime when he finally couldn't sit still. Using work as an excuse, he drove off hurriedly, even forgetting his usual habit of kissing my forehead before leaving.

After much hesitation, I decided to follow him. At first, I worried he might notice, but even when I openly trailed behind his car, he remained oblivious. His entire focus was on that goldfinch of his.

The car stopped at a mid-range apartment complex, pulling up in front of a building. I parked in a hidden spot and watched as Lindsay, dressed in a skimpy nightgown, leaped into Matthew's arms, pouting and looking pitifully aggrieved.

Matthew's face was full of indulgence as he gently held her waist, draped his jacket over her shoulders and carried her inside in a princess hold.

The lights on the sixth floor turned on and I saw their suggestive silhouettes through the window.

In the living room, Matthew couldn't wait to press Lindsay against the glass. Their shadows overlapped intimately. The thought of Matthew being with her for six months, then coming back to touch me with his filthy hands …

"Ugh …" I retched violently in the car. Disgust, I felt pure, unrelenting disgust.

I closed my eyes, but the image of their entwined bodies clung to my mind like a nightmare, impossible to shake.

My face felt damp. I instinctively reached up to touch it and realized my tears had long begun to fall.