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

### Chapter 4

No reply ever came through on my phone.

At the same time, a syrupy, tearful voice drifted over from nearby.

"Babe, this stupid plane is the worst! I'm never flying again! I'm so mad I could cry..."

"What happened? Who upset my baby? Tell me."

The tenderness soaking through that male voice made me look up involuntarily.

On Eve's screen, I saw the husband who'd told me he was working overtime, lounging against a leather sofa.

The Patek Philippe on his wrist, the one I'd always assumed was a knockoff, caught the light of a five-star hotel suite and threw back a cold, unmistakable gleam.

Eve wept like a willow in the rain, the picture of wounded innocence.

"There was this hideous psycho on the plane who had the nerve to bully me! Babe, you have to make her pay!"

The way Dominic looked at her was drenched in devotion so thick it could drown.

"Don't cry, baby. When you cry, it breaks my heart."

"I can't just swallow it! Look, that tramp ruined my hair. I paid thirty thousand dollars for this blowout!"

A flash of genuine pain crossed Dominic's eyes. His voice turned even more indulgent.

"Sweetheart, you know that emerald necklace that belonged to Marie Antoinette? The one you've been eyeing? I'll have someone bid on it for you right now."

Eve's tears stopped on a dime. She pouted, already melting into a coy smile.

"Really? That piece starts at eight figures, you know. You're too good to me." She sniffled prettily. "Fine. Since you love me this much, I guess I won't stoop to her level."

"Mm," Dominic said. "A trashy woman like that isn't worth my baby's anger. Be good. I told that plain little housewife I'd be on a business trip for a week, so you and our son better keep me company for my birthday this time."

The moment suspicion became certainty, every last scrap of denial crumbled to ash.

Eve squeezed her generous cleavage together, her voice dripping like warm taffy.

"So how do you want me to keep you company?"

Dominic let out a low laugh. Something raw and urgent surfaced in his gaze.

"I want you... to not leave that hotel bed for three straight days."

It was a side of him I had never seen. Nothing like the mechanical, going-through-the-motions man who lay beside me in our bed.

"Oh, stop! You're so bad! Our son can hear you!"

Eve scolded him, but every inch of her body language was an invitation.

My stomach turned. Not from anger. From something deeper, a disappointment so heavy it seeped into my bloodstream.

After a few more exchanges, Eve blew a string of exaggerated kisses at the screen and hung up.

My phone buzzed twice.

Dominic had replied.

"Babe, quit joking around. How can a marriage certificate be fake?"

"What's wrong, bad mood? I'll make it up to you when I get back from my trip. Look what I got you."

I looked at the photo he sent.

I laughed.

His mistress shed a few crocodile tears and earned a legendary piece of jewelry worth eight figures at auction.

And me? I got a sponge with a "buy one, get one free" sticker from the grocery store.

"You work so hard around the house. This one doesn't need soap, and it lasts forever. It'll keep your hands from getting rough when you do the dishes."

Before, I would have called him thoughtful. Considerate.

Now I saw it with brutal clarity. In his eyes, I was nothing more than a maid.

And the way he'd referred to me just moments ago, that disgusted tone, like he was talking about garbage.

What a monster.

The plane finally landed. I dragged my aching knees forward, ready to find Dominic and lay everything bare.

I barely made it out of the jetway before two uniformed officers stepped into my path.

"Are you Christine Simmons? You'll need to come with us."

"Why?"

The one with the thick mustache answered. "A Miss Sullivan filed a police report. She says you assaulted her and her son."

My fists clenched at my sides, fury coiling tight.

"That woman hit me too. Why aren't you arresting her?"