My Fiancée's Secret Lover

The second the call ended, Harper hurriedly pushed open the bedroom door.

"Adrian, did I do something wrong? Why did you sell the self-portraits I painted for you?" Her voice trembled, and hurt filled her expression.

Her gaze fell on the several paintings she had bought back over the past few days.

I didn't respond. I simply watched her in silence.

Every time Harper cheated on me, she painted a self-portrait for me with her own hands. Including the one she had painted three days ago on our wedding anniversary, which still hadn't been framed, there were 13 paintings in total.

I let out a quiet laugh.

I used to treasure those paintings more than anything. I thought they were Harper's way of expressing her love for me. After all, she was one of the world's most acclaimed painters.

But now I finally knew the truth. They were nothing more than a way for her to ease the guilt she felt after cheating on me.

"I just thought they were getting a little old."

I kept my expression perfectly composed, but Harper's brows remained tightly furrowed. She threw herself into my arms. "Adrian, are you really okay?"

When I nodded, Harper finally breathed a sigh of relief and spoke tenderly. "Adrian, don't worry. No matter how much the world changes, I'll always love you just the way I do now."

I listened to those ridiculous words and calmly curled my lips into a faint smile without answering.

Harper didn't press the subject. Instead, she tied an apron around her waist.

Just like that, she went back to being the devoted fiancée who commanded attention wherever she went yet came home and happily cooked for her fiancé.

But before the first dish could even hit the pan, her phone started ringing.

I watched her move around the kitchen and deliberately raised my voice. "Harper, someone's calling you."

"Can you get it for me?" she answered without hesitation.

I raised an eyebrow, glanced at the caller ID labeled "Assistant," and swiped to answer.

The moment the call connected, an unfamiliar man's voice came through the phone. "Babe, I miss you so much. When are you coming to see me?"

At the same time, Harper rushed out of the kitchen with a spatula still in her hand.

She seemed to realize her reaction had been far too frantic because she quickly gave me an uneasy smile. "I just wanted to see if it was something important from the studio."

I watched her scramble to cover herself and calmly handed her the phone. "The call had just connected. He hadn't said anything yet."

She snatched the phone from me. The moment she saw the caller ID, the panic and guilt on her face became even more obvious.

She quickly hung up. "Adrian, you really didn't hear anything?"

I shook my head. "If you're busy with work, I'll just grab something to eat myself. Go ahead and take care of it."

Those words were exactly what she wanted to hear.

Harper nodded and stepped forward to hug me. "Something came up at the studio. I'll take care of it and come right back. Eat without me."

I didn't expose her lie.

She hadn't even heard what the caller wanted, yet she already knew something had come up at the studio.

I looked at her and nodded again.

The moment the door closed behind her, rain began pouring down without warning.

A new message appeared on my phone.

[Mr. Parsons, even though you're getting married, Harper will still rush out into a downpour just because I asked her to come see me, leaving you all alone at home.]

At that moment, my heart finally died.

Harper's choice had already given me the answer. She had shown me exactly what was in her heart.

I stood, opened my contacts, typed a message, and sent it.

[Seven days from now, help me fake my death and disappear. I've already decided how I'm going to die.]

Seven days from now would be my wedding day. It would also be the day I left for good.