My Husband's Other Wives

I was in the middle of applying a caviar face mask when the mansion's front doors were suddenly shoved open.

Two women from the countryside barged in one after the other, each carrying several worn woven bags.

With loud thuds, they dropped their dusty luggage right onto my rug.

The older woman looked me up and down before muttering, "City people are so ridiculous. What kind of junk are you smearing all over your face in broad daylight?

"I've heard you people are obsessed with that milk tea stuff. It's sweet enough to rot your teeth."

Then she pointed at me and barked, "Hey, quit just staring at us. Go buy each of us a milk tea. Full sugar, with extra boba."

The whole thing happened so suddenly that I was too stunned to react. I even forgot to peel off my face mask.

While I was still frozen in shock, something suddenly started rustling inside one of their woven bags. The next second, a hen burst out, flapping its wings wildly.

The chicken hopped around for a moment before dropping a steaming pile of poop onto my custom-made designer couch.

Then it took off racing around the living room, scattering feathers and dust everywhere.

That was the last straw.

I pointed at the two women, my voice shaking with rage. "Who are you? What are you doing in my house? Get out!"

Martha Wilson showed no sign of remorse. Instead, she planted her hands on her hips, spat on the floor in my direction, and sneered. "Shut your mouth, you bitch. From now on, we're Ryan's first and second wives. And you think you can throw us out?"

I was dumbfounded.

The first and second wives?

My first thought was that these two had escaped from a psychiatric hospital.

"Walter? Walter!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. "Where is everybody?"

The butler, Walter, came rushing in as fast as he could.

The moment he saw feathers all over the living room, the pile of chicken poop on the couch, and the two country shrews standing there with their hands on their hips, he froze.

I was shaking with anger as I pointed a finger at him. "Walter, what is wrong with security? How did they let people like this walk right into my house?"

Walter flinched and quickly bowed his head. "I'm very sorry, Ms. Harper. Jake was on gate duty today. He's new and probably doesn't know the rules yet."

I was not interested in hearing excuses. "Get them out of here. Both of them and that chicken. Throw them out. Now."

Walter immediately motioned for two servants to help.

But just as they reached for the still-flapping hen, the two women shrieked. "Don't you dare touch it!"

The younger woman, Linda, threw herself in front of the hen and glared viciously at the servants.

"Do you even know who we are? We're carrying Ryan's kids. We're the mothers of the Carter family's future heirs!

"This hen came all the way from our hometown. It's our lucky hen, and it's precious. Nobody's laying a finger on it. We're keeping it here, and it's going to eat the best food every single day."

Then the two women lunged at Walter like wild animals, clawing and scratching at him.

Walter was already in his sixties. There was no way he could withstand the assault.

Fortunately, two male servants reacted quickly and managed to pull the women away from him.

Only then did I notice the rounded bellies hidden beneath their oversized padded jackets.

My mind went blank.

My first thought was that my husband, Ryan Carter, had cheated on me. And somehow, he had picked not one, but two women like this.

My hands trembled with rage as I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. "Ryan, you have ten minutes. Get your ass home. Now."