I Caught My Husband With His Mistress

At three in the morning, Sophia Palmer stood by the window, listening to the wind wailing and watching the rain pouring down outside. Three hours ago, she had called him, saying she needed him to come back urgently. All she received was his cold laughter before he hung up abruptly.

Sophia had long known her husband, Dillon Palmer, didn't love her. Five years ago, she had fallen for him when he saved her life. Two years later, she saved an elderly man, only to find out he was Dillon’s grandfather. Using that debt of gratitude, she coerced Dillon into marrying her. Everyone said a woman from an ordinary family marrying into wealth was a stroke of luck. But who could see the bitterness behind her fortune?

In three years of marriage, she seldom saw him. She had grown used to facing a cold house and a husband as absent as if he were a ghost, constantly away on business trips. But today was different. Her father was gravely ill and required a significant sum for treatment. With no other option, Sophia texted Dillon again, hoping he would make time for her.

Clutching her phone, she fell asleep as she waited endlessly. She didn't know how much time had passed when a cold hand suddenly touched her waist, waking her with a jolt. In the brief flash of lightning, she saw Dillon’s handsome face. "You’re back," she said, excitement washing away her sleepiness. But touching his wet, cold clothes, she shuddered, "Dry off first."

Before she could express her concern about him catching a cold, Dillon grabbed her wrist tightly. "Is this what you called me back for? You must be pretty desperate. How do you cope when I'm gone?" His voice was filled with biting sarcasm and bitter accusations.

"I'm not…" she began, but Dillon didn't let her continue. He pressed his cold finger against her lips, a smirk of impatience and disdain playing at the corners of his mouth. "Stop wasting time. Let's get this over with."

He moved on her with the aggression of a predator, indifferent to her discomfort. She used to endure these moments, valuing them for their intimacy, rare as it was with Dillon. But this time, the pain was too much, and her abdomen hurt terribly.

"It hurts!" Her tear-filled eyes were so captivating that, for a moment, they tugged at his heart. But he reminded himself that it was all an act, much like three years ago when she drugged him and faked a pregnancy to trap him into marriage, her eyes equally captivating back then, though her tactics were thoroughly detestable.

"Pathetic," Dillon muttered, pulling away. There was no denying the allure of the woman on the bed, enticingly perfect. Yet that body now curled slightly, as if in pain. Normally, he might have stayed longer, but tonight he found no enjoyment in it.

If Sophia had summoned him to put on a sympathy-seeking performance, she was beyond help, foolish to the core.

As the pain in her abdomen subsided, Sophia noticed Dillon was already adjusting his tie, preparing to leave, without even sparing her a glance. He probably thought she was feigning. The misunderstanding about the fake pregnancy three years ago had branded her as a manipulator in his eyes, and no amount of explanation could change that.

Sophia gritted her teeth against the pain, reaching across the bed to tug at Dillon’s sleeve. "Could you spare a few minutes? I really need your help." When Dillon shook her hand off, ready to leave, she quickly wrapped the blanket around herself and blocked the doorway. "Just a moment, please."

"Talk," he said, his cold voice laced with impatience. Sophia knew this was already a concession from him.

"Could you lend me half a million? I really need it. I’ll pay it back with interest, I promise," she pleaded. Her stepmother had called earlier with news that her father, recently hospitalized, had been diagnosed with cancer. The treatment would be expensive.

Dillon curled his lip, "Finally dropping the charade? The pain was just the warm-up, and hitting me up for money is the main event now."

His icy finger tilted her chin, a sneer on his face. "Sophia, do you really think you're all that? Half a million, huh? If you had named this price three years ago, I might have paid without batting an eye. But now, you’re just a worthless freebie, no different from a blow-up doll."

Sophia's eyes reddened with frustration, "I’m just asking for a loan. I’m willing to pay interest. Dillon, please help me."

"Help you? Like how you helped me explain things to Megan?" he taunted, bringing up their past.

"You showed up with others and a pregnancy test report, driving Megan overseas." Sophia shook her head, "That's not true. I went alone to explain. I have no idea why Anna showed up."

Three years ago, after a drugged encounter with Dillon, even as he clung to her, calling another woman’s name, she didn't mind. But when Megan found out, Dillon had asked Sophia to clarify things.

Though it hurt to see Dillon eager to distance himself from her, she had agreed. However, as she was explaining, Anna, a mutual friend, showed up unexpectedly and shoved the test report at Megan. Despite her attempts to explain, Megan wouldn't listen and left the country days later.

A scornful sound escaped Dillon. Sophia knew he didn't believe her. She had repeated this explanation countless times over the years, all in vain. Still, she clung to the hope that one day, he would believe her.

"Fine, let’s say it was all my fault." Her voice was tinged with resignation. "What will it take for you to lend me the money?"

To Dillon, half a million dollars was peanuts, about the cost of a watch. He was simply being vindictive.

Sophia's eyes were filled with emotion, almost imploring, with an undercurrent of innocence—a trait that was dangerously misleading, as he’d learned three years ago. But now, he was immune.

"Three years, and your act is unraveling already?" Dillon’s thumb brushed over her lips, the gesture both intimate and mocking.