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My Wife's Secondhand Habit Exposed Her Affair Novel Cover

My Wife's Secondhand Habit Exposed Her Affair

Iris Lockwood gifts her husband a filthy, secondhand air conditioner for his birthday, claiming they must save for a future penthouse. When the machine sprays toxic powder, their son Flynn suffers a life-threatening allergic reaction. Iris abandons them for a work emergency, but a mysterious phone call leads her husband to the city's wealthiest residence. There, he finds Iris with a young lover, realizing his humble life was a lie. Now, his long-suppressed, dangerous persona begins to resurface.
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Chapter 4

"Are you sure you haven't made a mistake? We just had a secondhand air conditioner installed at our place earlier," I explained, confused.

"No, I'm sure I haven't made a mistake. It's written clearly on the order. Ms. Lockwood paid for it in full. The address is Suite 801, the penthouse apartment in Tower A of Quantum Heights," the deliveryman responded.

"It's boiling out here, and this high-end unit is ridiculously heavy. Please just get her to come back and open the door!"

The penthouse apartment in Tower A of Quantum Heights. The moment I heard that address, I stiffened. That was the most expensive luxury residential area in the city. Back when we got married, it was also the place Iris had solemnly promised to give me.

Yet again, I hailed a cab and rushed to Quantum Heights. When I reached the top floor of Tower A, the deliveryman was leaning against a massive air conditioner shipping crate, smoking a cigarette. I hid behind the stairwell door, staring intently at the elevator.

Before long, the passenger elevator chimed as the doors slid open. I held my breath, but the person who stepped out was a fashionably dressed young woman.

After greeting the deliveryman, she walked straight to the door and unlocked it. With a beep, the door swung open.

Looking at the back of the unfamiliar woman, my frayed nerves instantly relaxed. Leaning against the cold wall, I let out a bitter chuckle. "Dylan, oh Dylan, what the hell is wrong with you?" I mused.

A penthouse in Quantum Heights would easily cost three million dollars. Iris was just a department director with an annual salary of 45 thousand dollars. She hadn't even paid off the mortgage on our cramped, dilapidated old apartment. How could she possibly afford a place here?

It had to be someone with the same name, or perhaps a system glitch had simply mixed up the phone numbers.

Recalling the blunder at Echelon Grand Hotel just moments ago, I figured I had probably been under too much stress lately. Not only had I nearly ruined Iris' career, but now I had also run off to this luxury residential area to indulge in paranoia.

In a heartbeat, a wave of intense guilt engulfed me. I turned around and was ready to push open the fire door and leave.

At that exact moment, a familiar voice sounded behind me. "Hey, sorry to keep you waiting." I whipped my head around.

At some point, the elevator doors had opened, and Iris walked out arm in arm with a well-dressed young man. Her other hand was full of luxury brand shopping bags.

The man pecked Iris on the cheek. "Thank you for going shopping with me earlier, Iris, and for buying me all these expensive gifts. I love you!"

Looking at him tenderly, she responded gently, "If you want, I'll buy the entire mall for you! That lunatic showed up at the hotel earlier. Luckily, I was quick on my feet and told him off before he could ruin my shopping trip with my baby."

The deliveryman spotted them and hurried over. "Ms. Lockwood, you're finally back! The air conditioner…"

"Sorry for the trouble. Please help me move it in and install it. I'll pay double the rush fee. I can't let my baby suffer in this heat, after all." Iris generously pulled out several 100-dollar bills and stuffed them into the man's hand.

The young man, whose name was Tristan Greene, laid eyes on the brand new air conditioner, and his eyes lit up. "You're the best, Iris! Oh, by the way, did you take my old unit back with you?"

Iris smiled and nodded. "I did. It's already in use."

"Iris, your deadbeat husband didn't suspect anything, did he? I poured half a bottle of extra-strong itching powder into the air vents. It didn't drive him insane, did it?"

Iris dotingly booped his nose. Her tone dripped with contempt for me when she sneered, "He's an idiot; he hasn't got a clue. He really thought I'd gotten my hands on something almost brand new and was crouching there, cleaning it bit by bit, putting up with the pain in his back."

"Serves him right!" Tristan snorted. "It's his fault for hogging the position of your legal husband and refusing to step aside! I want him to use my hand-me-down trash and suffer from it. Let's see how long he can hold out!"

"Alright, alright. As long as you're happy, babe, you can toy with him however you want."

The couple laughed as they walked into the dream home that should've been mine.

The door slammed shut with a heavy thud. I stood in the dimly lit stairwell, feeling as though I had plummeted into an ice pit.

How dare they? They cheated on me, humiliated me, and plotted against me behind my back! Did they think I couldn't do anything to them?

After several deep breaths, I suppressed the murderous urge rising within me and pulled out my phone.

"Ms. Lovelace, your department director, Iris Lockwood, is currently cuddling with your lover in your fully paid penthouse at Suite 801, Tower A in Quantum Heights. They're enjoying the air conditioning right now. If you don't hurry, your little lapdog might be devoured by someone else."

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