When My Husband Sold Me to His Mistress

Upon seeing those two messages, I was at a loss for words.

I immediately grabbed my phone and went to find Calvin Rodriguez, who was video chatting in an inappropriate state with Daisy Williams.

Ignoring his flushed face and the disarray around him, I directly placed the two texts in front of him.

After reading them, Calvin sheepishly looked away.

However, he quickly started making excuses for himself and Daisy:

"Daisy is young; she loves to joke around. You took it too seriously, didn't you?"

"The suggestion that you should dance at the gala was just a way to get you to back off from Daisy. The other message was just playful banter between us."

"You're my wife—how could I ever suggest anything like that involving you?"

"Pregnant women often get overly worried; it's late. You should go back to your room and rest. I would feel terrible if you got exhausted."

His dismissive and insincere words twisted a knife in my heart.

For the last three years, I had been his wife, carrying his children.

Yet all he seemed to think about was Daisy Williams.

Clenching my fists tightly, I became numb to any physical pain.

As I was about to turn and leave, Calvin suddenly called out to me:

"I've prepared something special at tomorrow night's gala just for you."

Hearing this, I instinctively shook my head and declined:

"I'm not going. Take Daisy with you."

At this, Calvin's expression immediately darkened:

"Why are you making a scene now? If I bring Daisy, you'll get jealous over nothing."

"I know yesterday was tough for you. Tomorrow, just choose whatever you want at the gala. Think of it as my apology to you."

"You're different from Daisy. Daisy is focused on her career, while you don't work. You stay at home like a couch potato. Think about how your baby feels if you're not occupied."

Suddenly, I felt utterly ridiculous and pathetic.

Before marrying Calvin, I had a career of my own.

But after we married, he insisted I stay home so I wouldn't overwork myself.

Yet now, I am seen as nothing more than a useless freeloader.

Seeing me silent, with my head down, Calvin's patience ran thin.

"You must come with me tomorrow. That's final. I have things to do, so go back and rest."

The next day, it seemed he was worried I'd back out, as he kept an eye on me the entire day.

Only when I obediently got into the car with him did he finally relax.

While he wasn't paying attention, I discreetly sent a text to Lea Rodriguez.

As soon as the car stopped at the gala's entrance, Daisy Williams, who had been waiting, came over.

She looked at my belly with a mocking smile and remarked:

"I heard you're six months pregnant, but your belly doesn't look that big! No wonder everyone still compliments your figure!"

The next moment, someone chimed in:

"Our Calvin is always generous, willing to share his treats with his buddies. We've never seen a pregnant woman dance a jig. Why don't you give us a show?"

Laughter erupted around us.

Many, there for the spectacle, eagerly joined in.

Some even began eyeing me inappropriately.

Shame washed over me once more.

I frowned, my expression firm:

"Have you all had your fun?"

Only then did Calvin step in to smooth things over:

"Honey, they're just messing with you. Surely you're not upset?"

Seeing my face remain unchanged, Daisy raised her glass and approached me:

"It's my fault for speaking out of turn. I toast you as an apology."

Though her words were apologetic, her eyes held a malicious glint.

Realizing they intended to use me as part of some game, I suddenly understood.

The drink must be spiked.

I pushed the glass away, coolly replying:

"I'm pregnant. I can't drink."