Chapter 1

On our wedding anniversary, I received an explicit video from the scholarship student my wife was sponsoring.

"Mr. Reed, does the professor go this wild when she's with you?"

"She is seriously so good!"

I calmly shot back.

"Since when is being a homewrecking side-piece a badge of honor?"

"Should I award you a trophy?"

1

I was trying on a tailored suit when a friend request popped up on my phone.

The profile picture showed a sunny, boyish-looking guy.

I recognized him immediately as Chase Dawson, the underprivileged college student my wife was sponsoring.

Assuming there was an emergency, I accepted the request.

A video instantly landed in my inbox.

In the clip, a shirtless Chase was intimately kissing the woman lying beside him in bed, smirking right at the camera.

The woman in that bed was none other than my wife, Melanie Foster.

Seeing that I didn't immediately reply, Chase grew even bolder with his messages.

"Mr. Reed, does the professor go this wild when she's with you?"

"She feels so damn good!"

Melanie and I had met through a blind date.

Back then, I chose her because of her gentle demeanor and impressive academic background, assuming an educated woman would never lack basic morality.

My mother had opposed the marriage from the start.

Even though Melanie was a tenured university professor with a stable job, her income was modest compared to my family's corporation, and my mother wanted me to marry a socialite from a family of equal standing.

I was the one who insisted on marrying her.

Melanie had said something that deeply touched my heart back then: "I might not be able to offer you high society luxury, but I'll give you everything I have. Who wouldn't want a peaceful, grounded life?"

Yet here we were, just two years into our marriage, and she was cheating on me with her own student.

I tightened my grip on the phone and clicked the screen off, feeling an overwhelming sense of disgust.

I, Nolan Reed, was never a man to cling to what was already broken.

Once a woman soiled herself, I was done with her.

As for Chase's blatant provocation, I had zero intention of swallowing the disrespect.

I picked up my phone and typed back: "Since when is being a homewrecking side-piece a badge of honor?"

"Should I come down to your campus and hand you a trophy?"

Chase didn't reply.

I assumed he was intimidated, but then the doorbell suddenly chimed.

Melanie was home.

Earlier this afternoon, she had promised to pick me up for our anniversary dinner.

Yet the moment I opened the door, I found Melanie supporting a limping Chase right on our porch.