My Billion-Dollar Bet on My Cheating Wife

The next morning, Vanessa took Dylan out to the mall.

The moment the front door clicked shut, the entire mansion fell into a dead, suffocating silence.

I stood in the entryway, waiting until I was sure her car had driven away before I hurried back upstairs, where my suitcase was packed and ready to go.

I placed the divorce agreement I had printed in advance right in the center of the dining table, then set my wedding ring on top of the first page.

Then, I popped the SIM card out of my phone and tossed both the card and the phone onto the nightstand.

Lugging my suitcase downstairs, I slipped into a pair of comfortable sneakers and walked right out the front door.

Our housekeeper, Sharon Brooks, stood at the end of the hallway, watching me leave, a helpless look in her eyes.

I gave her a slight, polite nod.

"I'm leaving. There's something for her on the dining table. Make sure she gets it when she comes back," I instructed.

On the way to the airport, I lowered the taxi window.

By noon, Vanessa pushed open the door, her arms piled high with shopping bags. Her first instinct was to head to the dining room.

The table was set with freshly prepared food, and right in the middle sat a plate of fish and chips—my favorite.

The lazy, casual smile on her face gradually faded.

"Where is he?" asked Vanessa.

Sharon handed her the divorce agreement and the ring from the dining table, and Vanessa snatched the papers out of her hand.

With a cold, dismissive scoff, she tossed the papers back onto the table.

"Oh, so he wants to play this game again?"

She pulled out her phone and dialed my number.

My phone was off.

And even when she called again, it was still off.

Realizing something was off, Dylan crept closer, his voice laced with caution. "Vanessa, do you think Mason might actually mean it this time?"

Vanessa ignored him entirely, her voice cold as she turned to the butler.

"Run a check on his credit cards right now. Find out which hotel he's checked into, and then freeze every single one of his accounts!"

She bent down, scooped up the wedding band, and squeezed it so hard that her knuckles turned white.

"Look at you, getting brave enough to dodge my calls. Fine, Mason. Let's see how long you can keep up this stubborn little act when you're left without a single penny to your name."

A thick, heavy stack of bank statements slammed violently onto the coffee table as Evelyn strode into the living room.

"Mom? What are you doing here?" asked Vanessa. "I bet Mason ran straight to you to cry and complain, didn't he? That's just how he is. Don't worry. The second his pockets run dry, he'll come crawling right back to me."

Evelyn stood rooted to her spot, staring coldly at her own daughter.

"Run dry?" she scoffed.

"Just three hours ago, I transferred the final payment into his personal bank account. Counting the previous six payments, the total comes to 700 million dollars. Not only that, but I also arranged for a private jet to take him abroad."

Vanessa's expression stiffened.

"What are you talking about? He doesn't care about the petty allowance you threw at him."

Evelyn walked over to the coffee table and began flipping through the bank statements one by one, spreading them out for Vanessa to see.

Every single statement was stamped with the date, a specific dollar amount, and a note attached to the transfer.

"Payment for the first affair. 100 million dollars.

"Payment for the second affair. 100 million dollars."

The third affair had its own transfer, too, and the payments continued all the way to the seventh and most recent one.

Dylan was so frightened that he shrank into the corner of the room.

Meanwhile, Vanessa kept her eyes glued to the bank statements. "T-This is impossible…"

Evelyn's voice was stone-cold.

"Did you honestly think he put up with you bringing those pathetic little flings into his home time after time because he was hopelessly in love with you? Stop flattering yourself, Vanessa.

"Six months ago, I made a bet with him. I bet that deep down, you were still a responsible wife, and sooner or later, you would come back to your senses. But look at you. You made me lose spectacularly.

"Vanessa, in his eyes, you stopped being a partner worth relying on the very first time you brought another man home."

Vanessa's lips trembled despite herself.

Evelyn bent over, picked up the ring that had fallen to the floor, and placed it right next to the seven bank statements.

"To him, you were just a bet."