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My Billionaire Husband Faked Being Poor , So I Let Him Keep His Mistress Novel Cover

My Billionaire Husband Faked Being Poor , So I Let Him Keep His Mistress

After losing her son to illness, a grieving wife works herself to the bone to help her husband, Dominic Ashford, pay off massive debts. Hoping to surprise him on his birthday trip, she boards a flight only to sit next to his wealthy mistress. As the mistress boasts about her secret billionaire lover and his heir, the wife recognizes her own handmade clothes on the woman's child, unraveling a web of betrayal and lies.
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Chapter 2

### Chapter 2

"Impressive," I said. "The kid's already that big, and he's still hiding it from his wife."

"Well, can you blame him? The woman's an idiot. I heard she works three jobs just to pay off debt." Eve crossed her long, pale legs. "Even then, she barely makes anything. She thinks her husband's using the money to pay down what they owe, but actually..."

I froze.

She flashed a sly smile, then picked up her phone, tapped the screen, and held it in front of my face.

"All that money? I spent it on dog food for our little Dudu!"

A snow-white poodle filled the screen.

"See? When a man stops loving you, you're worth less than his mistress's dog."

Half a dozen servants surrounded the poodle, grooming its coat, blow-drying its fur, chasing after it with plates of plump, fatty salmon, as though they were attending to royalty.

Something lodged deep in my chest and climbed into my throat. I couldn't speak.

To save money for my son's medical bills, I had never once eaten breakfast. Dinner was a few bites of cold bread. I was dizzy with hunger more often than not.

Even a dog lived better than I did.

Eve was on a roll.

"This trip to Harbor City, he knows I hate noise, so he booked out the entire floor of the hotel."

"Meanwhile that idiot wife is sitting in her little slum apartment waiting for him to come home. Waiting for nothing! Six days a week he's 'working overtime,' and the whole time we're at the villa, having the time of our lives."

I lowered my gaze.

"Why does he treat her like that?"

"Are you slow? What man doesn't want someone young and gorgeous?" She thrust out her chest and winked at me. "If you were a man, could you stand sleeping next to some washed-up hag who looked like you? Let alone spending money on her."

I said nothing.

She looked me up and down.

"Hey, come in for a treatment. I'll give you fifty percent off."

She pulled a glittering gold business card from her Chanel bag.

"What's this?"

"For my birthday this year, he secretly spent a fortune building a cosmetic surgery clinic in Harbor City, just for me. A gift. You know what he said? He said my beauty was his pride."

"He's absolutely crazy about me."

She was right about one thing. I stared at her, drenched in love and money. She'd had a child and still looked young and stunning. Crimson lips, killer figure, not a single fine line at the corners of her eyes.

And me? Hollowed out from overtime shifts, my face gaunt and sallow, my lips cracked and peeling, my eyes dull and empty.

"When's your birthday?" I asked.

"April first." Something crossed her mind, and she broke into a radiant smile. "Best birthday I ever had."

She pressed the card into my hand.

"Seriously, you should take better care of yourself."

"Your bone structure's not bad. Fix yourself up a little and maybe you can hold on to your man. Trust me."

April first. Six months ago.

A day I would never forget.

My fifth wedding anniversary with Dominic.

That day, I worked late as usual. It was pouring, and I couldn't bring myself to spend the money on a cab, so I walked home in the rain and came down with a fever.

I couldn't bring myself to go to the hospital, either. Dominic sent me a hundred dollars and told me to see a doctor.

I bought the cheapest fever reducers I could find.

With what was left, I put together something that almost resembled a candlelit dinner.

I waited until the food went stone cold before Dominic finally called. His voice was heavy with guilt.

"I'm sorry, babe. The company sprung a last-minute business trip on me. I need the money for our son's treatment, so I had to say yes."

That night, the hospital issued another critical condition notice for our son.

I called Dominic ninety-nine times. Sent ninety-nine messages. Every single one vanished into silence.

The next morning, he called back, dark circles carved deep under his eyes. He said he'd been up all night and had only just seen my messages.

I didn't doubt him for a second.

But the truth was, he had flown to Harbor City to spend a fortune celebrating his mistress's birthday.

I stared at the photos on Eve's phone, unable to look away.

So that night, he'd booked out the most exclusive luxury shopping strip in Harbor City and swept through every store for her.

On the hilltop, he'd set off fireworks that lit up the entire city.

Then they'd gone back to a seven-star hotel and spent the rest of the night together.

The dark circles under his eyes hadn't come from working overtime. They'd come from a night of pleasure.

He was still wrapped in her arms.

And our son was gone.

When Dominic got the news, he rushed back immediately. He collapsed in front of our son's portrait and wept like a broken man.

"If Daddy hadn't been on that business trip, he would've been there. He would've seen you one last time! Daddy's worthless. Daddy failed you!"

I even comforted him.

"It's okay. You did it for our son, for this family. He wouldn't blame you."

But the truth was, it wasn't that he couldn't make it back. He chose not to.

"You know, he actually wanted to come home that night."

I looked up. "Then why didn't he? Just to stay with you?"

"Ha." Eve laughed softly and leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper by my ear.

"I told him, 'The kid's not going to make it anyway. Just wait for it to die. The wife will blame herself for not taking better care of it, and she'll feel like she owes you. So even if she finds out about us, you've got the perfect excuse: you were so heartbroken over losing the child that you looked for comfort somewhere else. What right would she have to blame you?'"

Every muscle in my body trembled. I fought to hold still.

"Besides, with that little brat gone, my son inherits everything."

"The wife's already wrecked her body working three jobs. Ruined her womb. No looks, no figure, can't even pop out another kid. What's she got to compete with me?"

Eve swung her legs idly and took a delicate sip of champagne.

I stared at her, unblinking.

"Aren't you afraid of karma?"

"Karma?" Eve threw her head back and howled with laughter, as if she'd just heard the funniest joke in the world.

"Oh, sweetie, you don't even know. His marriage certificate with that woman? It's fake."

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