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My Wife Paid Ten Million for Her Lover’s AIDS Novel Cover

My Wife Paid Ten Million for Her Lover’s AIDS

Sofia Griffin proposes paying ten million dollars for her secretary’s virginity, claiming the funds are for his cancer treatment. When her husband objects, she rebukes him for his lack of compassion and petty jealousy. He chooses to stay silent, but not because he agrees. As an infectious disease specialist, he has already identified the truth behind the secretary's symptoms. It isn't cancer at all; the man is actually dying from the final stages of AIDS.
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Chapter 2

I forced down my emotions and denied it softly before hanging up.

So that wedding ring was custom-made for Christopher from the very beginning.

The one I received was nothing more than a flawed reject.

In that moment, it felt like someone clamped a hand around my throat. It felt painful and suffocating.

Just as despair threatened to swallow me whole, Sofia suddenly called.

Her voice was frantic.

"Honey, Chris is covered in red rashes, and his lymph nodes are swollen. What's going on? You're a doctor. Should he go get checked?"

Listening to her description, I became even more certain.

After being infected, Christopher did not take medication to control the virus at all.

Judging by his current symptoms, this was not just late-stage AIDS.

He had likely contracted other infectious diseases as well. Syphilis, for example.

On the other end, Sofia kept pressing, "Honey, say something! Give me a straight answer!"

I clenched my teeth, then replied calmly, "It's probably just common complications. He'll be fine after a few days' rest."

Then I hung up.

Outside, the night was thick and silent.

I put on gloves and carefully gathered Sofia's clothes. Then I stepped onto the balcony and burned them all to ashes.

I knew very well her infection was only a matter of time.

Living under the same roof, one careless moment and I could be next.

For now, the only thing I could do was to keep my distance without alerting her.

Early the next morning, I packed my bags and left in a hurry.

Only then did I message Sofia, claiming I had to travel out of province for work and would not be back for half a month.

After settling into a hotel, I opened a surveillance app on my phone, one I never used before.

A few months ago, the neighborhood upgraded its security system. The maintenance staff installed cameras in every home.

Sofia was not around at the time, and I was too busy to tell her.

Within moments, the app connected to the bedroom feed.

What I saw made my blood run cold.

I had been gone for less than half a day, and Sofia already brought Christopher home.

He was standing there now, a towel slung around his waist, fresh from the shower.

In his hand was my razor.

"Sophie, your husband's razor is really something. It's great for shaving, and even better for."

He grinned wickedly as he spoke, dropping the towel in front of her.

My blood surged instantly.

That razor was worth thousands, and he used it like that!

Sofia flushed, biting her finger with a coy smile. "Chris, you're such a bad boy!"

The next second, Christopher lunged forward.

"Sophie, didn't you say your husband was boring and stiff? You told me to be a little rough with you. What's wrong now? You don't like it anymore?"

As the two of them tumbled onto the bed, I shut the app immediately.

If I kept watching, I felt like the disease would crawl through the screen and infect me too.

Half a month passed in the blink of an eye.

I took preventive medication in advance, put on a mask, and forced myself to return home.

I thought that since I warned Sofia, she would at least have the decency to send Christopher away first.

But the moment I pushed the door open, he was still there, lounging on the sofa, wearing my personal sleepwear.

And what enraged me even more was the blanket my mother hand-knitted for me before she died, the one I barely even used.

He was wiping his feet with it!

I swallowed my anger and turned to Sofia.

"Sofia, you brought an outsider into our home to live here. Shouldn't you at least have discussed it with me?"

Before she could respond, another voice came from the kitchen.

"This house was bought by my daughter. She can let whoever she wants stay. Who are you to interfere?"

I froze.

Only then did I realize my mother-in-law, Karen Mason, was there too.

She shot me an impatient look and stepped protectively in front of Christopher.

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