Revenge on Cheating Spouse

At that moment, my body shook uncontrollably. Almost on impulse, I stood up, ready to storm into the pavilion and put an end to the whole scene. But before I could take a step, the other guests crowded in, blocking my way.

He looked at me with a sneer and teased, "What's the rush, Mrs. Grant? Aren't you curious to see if your husband will stay true to his values?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but then I caught sight of Gregory inside the pavilion. His hand was already resting lightly on Lena's bodice. Lena was in a Victorian-style dress today, the snug fit highlighting her voluptuous figure, and Gregory's hand seemed to blend seamlessly with the silhouette.

Against all reason, I saw it all too clearly: Lena's flushed face, her trembling body, and Gregory's hand, alternating between grasping and releasing, were painfully evident. It felt as though a heavy stone was crushing my chest, making it hard to breathe.

Even with my eyes closed, I could still hear Lena's heavy breathing interspersed with soft, flirtatious murmurs. These were accompanied by jeers and taunts from the onlookers.

I don't know how long it went on, but it felt like an agonizing eternity to me. When Lena finally emerged, her dress was slightly tousled, and there was a faint trace of coffee glistening at her lips. Gregory, on the other hand, seemed unaffected, even attempting to take my hand with brazen audacity.

I stepped aside, avoiding his touch. Gregory immediately complained, "Eleanora, stop overreacting!"

"We were just alone for an hour, nothing happened!"

Nothing happened? Did he really think I was so naive?

I was about to fire back when the host jumped in, trying to ease the tension, "Okay, okay, next up, Mrs. Grant, it's your turn."

But Gregory blocked my path, declining the host's invitation for me. "Let's skip it. My wife is more traditional. She wouldn't enjoy this sort of game."

Looking at Gregory's back, I felt no gratitude, only a bitter amusement. He had been so eager to chase after Lena just moments ago, and now suddenly I was too traditional?

Did he really believe that after such a humiliation, I would stay at his side forever? Anger and bitterness churned within me as I boldly stepped forward, maneuvering around Gregory.

"I'll join."

Under Gregory's startled gaze, I confidently drew a pavilion number for myself. Number five.

The crowd exchanged uncertain glances, but no one stepped forward to claim the number. Gregory seemed relieved, placing a hand on my shoulder with a smile, "Come on, Eleanora, what's gotten into you?"

"Don't I know you better than anyone? Before we got married, you wouldn't even let me stay over. How could you possibly join a game like this? If you're just trying to make me jealous, it's childish. See, there's no one—"

"It's mine."

Before Gregory could finish his sentence, a stranger's voice emerged from the far end of the group. The crowd parted to let him through. Gregory was considered attractive by most standards, but seeing this man's face, I couldn't help but gasp.

In my younger days, I was quite taken with graphic novels, and he looked like a hero who had stepped straight out of one. The man looked at me with a hint of amusement in his eyes and spoke softly, "I’m staying in pavilion number five. So, would you care to join me?"