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17kNovel > When Your Cheating Husband's Dream Become Your Divorce Evidence > Cheating 85

Cheating 85

    Chapter <b>1 </b>


    Three years into our marriage, mypany hit financial trouble and needed a three–billion–dor loan from the bank.


    When I submitted the asset verification to the bank, I asked my husband to get our property deed.


    My husband, River, who’d always bent over backwards for me, suddenly started hemming and hawing.


    “Things are crazy at work right now. Once I wrap this up, I’ll personally deliver the deed to the bank. Don’t stress about it, babe<b>–</b>I’ve got this handled.”


    Despite my constant nagging, he still wouldn’t produce the property deed.


    With no other options and thepany’s financial pressure mounting, I took our marriage certificate to the County Recorder’s Office and applied for a recement deed, iming the original was lost.


    When I held that recement deed in my hands, I finally understood what had been eating at me about my husband’s weird behavior! <ffc> N?w ?ovel chapt?rs are published on Find_Novel(.</ffc>


    It clearly stated:


    Property Owner: River Reed.


    Spouse: Vivian Reed.


    Vivian Reed?


    Who the hell is this<b>?? </b>


    Walking out of the County Recorder’s Office, I kept staring at the recement deed in my hands, almost convinced the clerk had screwed something up.


    My husband River Reed and I had dated for two years, been married for three, and our rtionship had always been rock


    solid.


    He was what everyone called the perfect doting husband–would’ve moved heaven and earth to spoil me rotten.


    But now, here was another woman’s name on our property deed.


    After we got married, I’d handed over most of mypany’s operations to River, and he’d thrown himself into itpletely, often working until the crack of dawn to grow the business.


    So <b>he </b>could get better rest, I’d bought this ce near the office two years ago, just so he wouldn’t have to shuttle back and forth between work and home when things got hectic.


    But now, that stranger’s name on the property deed hit me like a freight train.


    Lost in thought, my phone buzzed–River calling.


    “Hey babe, you home? I’m heading back now. We need to talk about this whole house situation.”


    Nice time.


    I slipped the property deed into my purse and headed straight home.


    When I got there, River was parked on the couch.


    Seeing me walk in, he jumped up and took my coat, hanging it on the rack with practiced ease.


    Smooth as silk, gentle as always–exactly like every single day for the past three years.


    I looked down, dodging the intensity in his eyes.


    “You said you wanted to talk about the house? The bank’s breathing down my neck–did you get the property deed?<b>” </b>


    Guilt shed across River’s eyes.


    “Maya, I talked to my folks about this whole thing. You know how they are–small–town people who don’t get what ‘asset verification‘ even means. All they know is we’re taking out a loan, and they’re scared we won’t be able to pay it back and the


    bank will snatch the house.”


    “Look, we’ve got plenty of other assets, right? What if we just leave this house out of it? Give my parents some peace of mind, you know?”


    Watching River’s guilty yet hopeful expression, disappointment crashed over me.


    Three years of marriage, and he still couldn’t be straight with me.


    I was about to tear his lies apart and demand to know who the hell that extra name belonged to when his phone rang.


    “Yeah, okay, don’t panic. I’m on my way.”


    Hanging up, River turned to me with furrowed brows.


    “That was the office–important client just showed up. You know how it is, thepany’s hanging by a thread right now. I gotta bounce.”


    “Maya, sweetie, I’ll probably be pulling an all–nighter. I’ll just crash at the office. Take care of yourself tonight, okay?”


    Without another nce my way, River grabbed his jacket off the couch and bolted out the door.


    Watching his retreating figure, my heart sank deeper.


    My gut told me he definitely wasn’t heading to the office.


    I dialed our project manager’s number and heard his confused voice through the speaker.


    “Nah, important clients always book appointments in advance. No one mentioned any clienting in today.”


    My suspicions confirmed, I hung up and drove straight to that house near the office.


    The moment I stepped inside, I froze in ce, my feet refusing to budge another inch.


    The house was spotless–the ceramic tiles in the living room gleamed so brightly they were almost reflective, the nts and flowers were meticulously maintained, and even the carpets looked pristine and brand new.


    Tears started streaming down my face instantly.


    After three years of marriage, how could I not know River inside and out?


    He treated me like a queen, was totally on top ofpany business.


    But when it came to daily life?


    Complete disaster.


    The guy couldn’t even keep track of his socks–they’d be scattered all over the ce.


    So… this wasn’t the home of such a man living alone.


    Every corner of the house was screaming at me wildly–an invisible “mistress of the house” was here.
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