My husband used my private live stream to support his mistress.

To avoid arousing his suspicion, I quickly walked out of the bathroom.

I wrapped myself up tightly in the quilt, and the Bluetooth headphones beside me were still revealing all kinds of bad things.

I don't know how I managed to make it to the end of the live stream.

Outside the window, the first light of dawn has already appeared, and my world has collapsed.

Everything just now is lingering in my mind.

I pretended to be fast asleep and heard Jack Ryan tipsy back to bed.

He put his hand around my waist, which was my most reassuring position.

Now it makes me so sick that I want to throw up.

After dawn, Jack Ryan kissed me on the forehead:

"I have an important meeting today and I'll be back later."

I forced a smile: "OK, be careful on the way."

As soon as he left, I rushed to the study.

Searching the live streaming software hidden in the deepest part, password records allowed me to log in directly to his account.

I trembled as I clicked on the history, each one stinging my eyes.

[Late-night Live: Bathing Perks for My Wife]

[The whole process of my wife trying on Qingqu underwear]

[Video of a Secret Your Wife Didn't Know]

I clicked on the membership section, and the membership price list popped up immediately:

The membership is divided into several tiers: regular membership at 99 yuan per month, VIP membership at 999 yuan per month, and premium VIP membership at 9,999 yuan per month.

And the number of members is actually over a thousand.

At that moment, I suddenly understood what he meant by "starting a business."

It turned out that he was using me for color live streaming.

Thinking of everything I gave up for him, my vision went black.

To support his business venture, I quit my job as a designer.

To take care of his feelings, I gave up all social activities.

I sold off all my savings so that he could make a comeback.

Trembling, I clicked on the private message section, and a user named "Jack's Baby" appeared frequently.

In the chat records, they talked about me without restraint:

"Jack, did the ATM transfer money to you today?"

"It just arrived and she thought I was preparing for a new company."

"Pretty silly, by the way, the baby is so well-behaved today, maybe a little princess."

Baby?

Just as I was thinking, a message popped up on my phone:

"Hey, are you the heroine of the late-night live stream?"

My heart almost stopped beating.

I immediately closed all the pages and blocked this person's number. By then, cold sweat had soaked through my back.

In the afternoon, I went out early and hid at the entrance of my neighborhood to wait for Jack Ryan.

He showed up soon, dressed in a suit and looking very energetic.

How could he look like a dispirited businessman after going bankrupt?

I followed him far away, through three streets, to an upscale restaurant.

Through the glass I saw Jack Ryan embracing a young woman.

The woman was dressed in a sophisticated maternity gown, with a prominent bulge in her abdomen.

They looked intimate, and Jack Ryan's hand touched her belly from time to time.

It was a tender look I had never seen before.

I felt so weak that I clung to the wall and didn't fall down.

That "Jack's Baby" was found.

And she was pregnant with Jack Ryan's child.

I, suppressing the urge to go up and tear them apart, sat quietly near their table.

The verdant plants were enough to cover my body.

"I've picked a house. I'll pay the down payment when the ATM transfers some money over."

Jack Ryan held the woman's hand.

The woman pouted and complained, "When will you be able to get rid of her?" My belly is getting bigger and bigger."

He kept kissing the back of her hand:

"Baby, hold on for at most two more months, and when I finish some finishing work, I can send her away."

"Oh? What are you going to do?"