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My Husband Put His Mistress on the Deed,So I Destroyed Him Novel Cover

My Husband Put His Mistress on the Deed,So I Destroyed Him

After marrying into his wife's family, Morton Finley is taken house shopping. Just as they are about to sign the contract, he suddenly stops her to make a shocking request. He wants to add Sapphire Parsons, a new hire he brought into the company, to the property deed. Seeing through his audacity, his wife refuses to play along, countering his ridiculous surprise with an immediate demand for divorce.
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Chapter 1

After Morton Finley married into my family, I took him house shopping. We were about to sign the contract when he suddenly stopped me.

"Babe, don't you think Sapphire is pitiful?"

Sapphire Parsons was a new hire he'd brought on after taking over the company.

I nodded without thinking and looked at him. "Sure. Pitiful. And?"

"Let's give her a surprise! We can add her name to the property deed. What do you say?"

I raised an eyebrow. "That's not entirely out of the question. How about we add your name to a divorce certificate while we're at it?"

——

Silence.

"I was just joking. Do you have to blow everything out of proportion?"

"Sapphire comes from nothing. She's a girl out here on her own, trying to make it. You're not exactly strapped for cash. Would it kill you to show a little compassion?"

I watched Morton rush to Sapphire's defense, and something cold settled in my chest.

His favoritism toward Sapphire went far beyond this.

When her family fell into debt, he hadn't hesitated to embezzle company funds to bail them out, never mind that the books were already stretched thin. Afterward, he blamed me for being heartless.

Then there was the partnership I'd painstakingly arranged for him. Because Sapphire mentioned she didn't like the client, he flipped the table at the signing dinner and killed the deal on the spot.

Ever since Sapphire joined the company, every team project bonus somehow ended up in her pocket. Late-night meal deliveries during overtime? The entire office got nothing while Sapphire received gourmet takeout he personally ordered.

Yet he seemed to forget that the food he ate, the roof over his head, the car he drove, the company in his hands—all of it came from me.

He had married into my family. He wasn't some high-and-mighty Mr. Finley.

Every last one of these offenses, I'd seen. I just couldn't be bothered to fight him over them.

But today, he'd pushed his luck too far. He wanted to put another woman's name on a house I was paying for in full.

I looked away from that self-righteous, two-faced expression of his, picked up the pen, and crossed Morton Finley's name off the contract.

His pupils contracted. He grabbed my wrist. "What the hell are you doing?!"

I shook his hand off, my voice perfectly level. "Buying a house. Putting it in my own name. Is there a problem?"

"What about me?!" His voice climbed several notches. "You said you'd put both our names on it! I've been a live-in husband all this time. This is the only security I have. You can't just cross my name out like that!"

I lifted my gaze and let it cut right through him. "Morton Finley. So you do remember you're a live-in husband."

He went rigid.

"I gave you respect. I gave you status. I gave you a platform. Not so you could take what's mine and use it to win over another woman."

A cold smile touched my lips. "I'll chalk today up to a lapse in judgment. If there's a next time, we'll be filing for divorce."

After the paperwork was finalized, I didn't bother with Morton. I took the property deed that belonged to me and drove to the villa.

The moment my car pulled up to the front gate, I frowned.

Women's clothes hung drying in the courtyard. Someone had clearly been living here for a while.

I pulled out my phone to call the realtor, but before I could, the front door swung open.

Sapphire Parsons strolled out in a pretty little sundress, taking her sweet time. The second she spotted me, her eyes lit up.

"You're here to deliver the deed, right? Mr. Finley really is a man of his word. He gave me the house."

I stood there, caught between disbelief and dark amusement.

I ignored her gloating and walked straight into the villa.

I had no interest in arguing with her. My gaze drifted slowly across the living room.

Matching couple's throw pillows were tossed on the couch. A pair of his-and-hers mugs sat on the coffee table. Even the drying rack on the balcony held pajamas that were obviously a couple's set.

And that dress she was wearing—the longer I looked, the more familiar it became.

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