My Husband Cried Regret When My ‘Lovers’ Arrived

My grandfather was once a titan in the field of tomb raiding.

Decades ago, he unfortunately perished with several of his closest friends inside an ancient tomb, leaving behind only a single jade ring.

To honor their memory, we, the younger generation, gather every year on Memorial Day, using the jade ring as our token of remembrance.

But this year, the jade ring disappeared—and shockingly, it turned up on my husband Michael Reed’s secretary’s hand.

When I went to Michael to demand an explanation, he accused me of cheating first, calling me unfaithful, then dragged me to my grandfather’s grave where he insulted and beat me.

He even forced me to summon my so-called “lovers.”

What he didn’t know was—the men he asked me to call…

One could ruin him utterly.

One could make him suffer worse than death.

And one… could erase him from this world without a trace.

Another Memorial Day had come.

I missed my grandfather.

Opening my study, I gently touched the mahogany box.

Inside was the jade ring—an heirloom my grandfather and his sworn brothers had risked their lives to bring back from a deadly tomb.

To honor their brotherhood, our fathers agreed that every Memorial Day, the descendants would gather to remember them.

Later, as the elders grew old, the duty passed to us.

I was the only girl among the four families’ descendants.

Careful and mostly homebound, I was entrusted with guarding the ring.

My older cousins all had highly sensitive identities, so our yearly gatherings were always kept extremely discreet.

When I opened the box this year—

I froze.

The velvet slot was empty.

My heart skipped a beat, then raced wildly.

I clearly remembered wiping it clean and placing it back after last year’s ceremony.

How could it be gone?

Forcing myself to stay calm, I searched every corner of the study.

Drawers, shelves, the safe—but nothing.

Cold sweat dampened my hair.

The appointed time was this afternoon.

Without the token, how could I face my cousins?

How could I answer to our grandfathers, who lay at rest underground?

Taking a deep breath, I suddenly remembered the home surveillance system.

I rushed to the computer and pulled up the past few days’ recordings.

For three days, no one but me had entered the study.

Just as I was about to give up, two familiar figures appeared at the doorway.

Michael Reed, and his secretary Olivia Scott.

Olivia, elegantly made up, leaned intimately against Michael.

Her eyes swept across the shelves until they landed on the mahogany box.

She giggled, whispering something to Michael.

Michael, smiling indulgently, opened the box without hesitation.

The jade ring gleamed under the light, and Olivia’s eyes lit up instantly.

She lifted it, admiring it against the light.

The next moment, Michael gently took it and slipped it onto her left thumb.

It fit perfectly.

Olivia wrapped her arms around Michael’s neck and kissed him.

He smiled, responding, and then the two of them entangled themselves on my desk—beside my grandfather’s heirloom.

I felt as if I’d been plunged into an ice cellar, frozen stiff.

The recording kept playing, but my eyes had already blurred.

No wonder Michael had been cold and frequently “on business trips” in recent years.

I never expected he had been betraying me all along—with his secretary.

And worse—he had given away the most precious token of our families, just to please his mistress.

Rage and disgust overwhelmed my reason.

I stormed straight into Michael’s executive office.