Cheating Wife's Double Life

I swung my phone camera directly toward the man's face, ensuring every viewer saw his sneering expression.

"Everyone, meet the man who claims to be Ashley's true love. Right now, he's demanding that my dad and I get on our knees for him."

The live chat erupted—outrage swiftly morphing into mockery.

[Kneel? Is he insane? He wants our top-streamer Nick and his dad to kneel?]

[This is ridiculous. Who does this nobody think he is? Ashley probably keeps him around as a clown for when she's bored.]

My father-in-law spoke with grim authority. "Young man, borrowed authority vanishes the moment the wind changes direction."

The insult struck a nerve. The man's face flushed a blotchy, furious red. He snatched up another bottle. "You old fossil! You think living a long life gives you the right to lecture me?"

I shoved my father-in-law behind me instinctively.

A sickening, bone-jarring thud echoed as the bottle smashed into my back. Cold liquor soaked through my shirt as shards of glass bit deep into my skin. A choked grunt escaped my lips, and my legs buckled, sending me crashing to my knees.

"Nick!" my father-in-law cried out, his voice thick with terror.

The man pointed at me and barked at the circling security guards, "What are you idiots staring at? Seize him! And tie up the old man too!"

The black-suited guards closed in, their faces impassive and menacing.

My father-in-law fumbled frantically with his phone, his fingers shaking as he hit the speed dial and put it on speaker. The line rang, and just before it was about to disconnect, Ashley's impatient voice cut through the air, underscored by laughter and a man's low chuckle in the background.

"Dad? What is it? I'm in the middle of something important."

"Ashley, we're at your new bar. Nick was protecting me—he's been hit with a bottle. He's bleeding badly!" My father-in-law's voice wavered with panic.

Her reply was flat. "Dad, what are you even doing over there? I'm at an important business dinner. I can't just leave. Take Nick to the hospital first. Let Brian McNeely handle the situation. Send me all the medical bills; I'll cover everything. I'll come by later to check on you."

Then she hung up. The line went dead.

Brian McNeely—so that was his name.

My father-in-law's hand trembled so violently that he nearly dropped the phone.

"Did you hear that? Ashley doesn't care about you at all!" Brian crowed, his voice dripping with triumphant arrogance. "Security! Throw these beggars out onto the street!"

The guards surged forward again, emboldened.

"You heard the boss," one of them said, his tone attempting justification. "She's busy."

"But if any of you lays a hand on us now," I declared, pulling my father-in-law firmly behind me and forcing my voice into a warning, "this livestream will broadcast every second of it. Let this scene go public, and we'll see how many customers your precious bar has left by tomorrow."