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Chapter 3

Scarlet was bathing when I reached home at night.

Although she had tried to clean up, I could pick up the scent of pheromones released in the air after mating. Still, I held back my disgust and quietly removed the storage card from the camera I had set up, and quietly slipped it into my pocket.

“You’re late. What’s wrong?” Scarlet asked as she stood at the door and dried her hair with a towel. The droplets of water over her shoulders were especially enticing.

“That massage chair was an imported model, so it took some time to teach your father how to use it,” I answered with a smile.

“Did they like it?”

“Your dad did say that it was quite comfortable.”

“Want to take a bath and come to bed?” she asked then, batting her eyelids with mischief—a signal for some hanky-panky.

She had just brought a bastard home in the afternoon, and now she wanted to fuck me too?

My stomach churned and I almost puked.

“Not tonight, darling. I still have a slide deck to finish for tomorrow’s meeting,” I said in refusal, putting up an apologetic look.

“Hmph.” She snorted as she turned into the washroom to get her laundry, and her tone was poutish as she played up her charm.

But even if she knew that I could never resist that, she was going to be disappointed today—when a piece of turd drops onto my plate, I would rather starve to death than to eat from the plate ever again.

Nonetheless, I sweet-talked her before I locked myself in the room, and thereafter, I copied the files in the memory card into my computer. Lighting myself a cigarette, I watched the video coldly.

In the years of our marriage, Scarlet had always been businesslike when we did the deed. She had never seemed sentimental whenever it was over, and would immediately push me away to take a bath.

I had always thought that she was a woman of virtue who has low tolerance.

Now, it was obvious that I was being exceeding stupid.

I watched as she did everything I thought she was incapable of in that video, and then there was that seductive look when they were done. A coldness crept within my heart, and suddenly the air in the room seemed to smell suffocating. I coughed a few times before lighting myself another cigarette.

In the sealed room where smoke swirled, I carved a tombstone for my own marriage.

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