Chapter 2

I frowned as I tightened my grip on my phone.

"What are you looking at, darling?" Sean asked. "You looked really engrossed in it."

I looked up to see Sean looking at me. Only then did I realize that the car had stopped in front of a hotel. I quickly locked the phone, saying, "Nothing much. I was just aimlessly scrolling through my phone because I was bored."

"It's getting late," Sean mentioned with a smile. "You'll strain your eyes if you look at your phone in the dark. Let's get out of the car. Since we've arrived at the hotel, we can rest."

I breathed a sigh of relief as I drank in his familiar and gentle expression. Sean had treated me well ever since we got together. He was a thoughtful and caring man, so it made sense that he would take care of the woman we picked up, unwilling to abandon her to fend for herself in the wilderness.

I smiled, replying, "Okay, but I might be a little dizzy—"

The woman interrupted me before I could finish my sentence. "Sir, my feet hurt a lot. I can't walk up the stairs," she whined after getting out of the car.

Sean immediately picked her up. "I'll carry you."

The smile on my face stiffened. He didn't spare a single glance back at me as he turned, cradling the woman in his arms. I could feel my heart throbbing painfully in my chest as I watched his retreating back.

I saw the receptionists manning the front desk smile at Sean and the woman as I stepped through the front doors, dragging our heavy suitcases with me.

"Are you here for your honeymoon? How sweet!"

Shockingly, neither Sean nor the woman corrected the receptionist.

Sean hummed in response and cradled the woman. "We'd like to reserve a room under Felicity Lincoln and Sean Clifford."

I was stunned by his words. So, the poor backpacker's name was Felicity Lincoln. However, I was 100% sure that Felicity hadn't mentioned her name at all during the car ride. How did he know her name?

I hadn't recovered from the nauseous feeling brought about by my motion sickness yet and was nearly overwhelmed with the urge to throw up.

"Miss, are you together with this couple? Are you their caretaker? I can reserve a standard room for you."

Powering through the uncomfortable feeling in my chest, I looked at the receptionists and answered, "I want a luxury suite."

"Many of our standard rooms are still available, miss. You don't need to reserve a luxury suite," one of the receptionists replied.

"She's right," the other receptionist added. "Most of our guests go for the standard rooms, especially if they're just caretakers."

My temper exploded as I took in the way she looked at me, her eyes filled with disdain. I placed the suitcases on the floor and stepped forward. "I'm only going to say this one more time. I want the luxury suite—the same type that those two people reserved earlier. Do you understand what I'm saying? Or should I call your manager and repeat myself to them?"

The receptionists were stunned and didn't dare say another word. They hastily processed the reservation and handed the keycard to me.

I stared at them without moving a muscle as I accepted the keycard. "Also, I'm the actual wife of that man just now."

I was filled with rage as I headed toward my suite, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Just then, I received a notification that thread had been updated again.

"I'm staying in the same room as my mistress."

The person had also attached a photo with the message. I felt my heart plummet into my gut as I stared at the photo. It showed a hotel—the very same hotel that Sean, the woman, and I had just checked into.

The new update received countless replies in a matter of seconds.

"Oh my God. You're amazing."

"How on earth did you pull this off? Isn't your wife even a little bit suspicious?"

"Suspicious?" the person answered. "Even if she suspects that something's amiss, I have my ways to convince her that nothing's wrong. Watch closely. I'm only going to teach you my ways once."

He then sent a photo of a message he had prepared beforehand.

"I won't be returning to our room tonight. We should take responsibility for her till the end since we decided to pick her up in the first place, right?"

"Nice work!"

"That's ingenious! Can you take me on as your apprentice? I want to learn from you!"

…

Disgust churned in my stomach as I scrolled through the comments that were expressing their admiration. A few seconds later, I received a message on my phone.

"Darling, Felicity has nyctophobia. I won't be returning to our room tonight. We should take responsibility for her till the end since we decided to pick her up in the first place, right?"