My Hot Wife's Double Life - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
You are reading My Hot Wife's Double Life, Chapter 4: Chapter 4. Read more chapters of My Hot Wife's Double Life.
Thank God. Those two real estate agents were attractive and dressed to impress, but at least they weren't my wife, Emily Laurent, or Sophia Valentine.
What a relief.
"I'll pass. Have fun."
I wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of entertaining Lucas Roscente. The guy was a walking stereotype—a trust-fund playboy who never missed a chance to brag.
Back when my factory still had ties to his family, I'd humored him a few times, tagging along to bars for the sake of networking.
"Don't be such a buzzkill. Get over here," Lucas insisted. "Yeah, your factory tanked, but give it time. I'll hook you up with some big clients—rebuilding won't be a problem. Come on!"
I hadn't planned on going, but the offer was hard to ignore.
Lucas was all talk, sure, but he had the connections to back it up.
In business, hard work and luck only got you so far. The real game-changer? Knowing the right people.
After a moment's hesitation, I caved, rushed home to change, and headed over.
Just like in the video, the two agents weren't hard on the eyes—flawless makeup, smooth skin, and tight tank tops that left little to the imagination.
Small talk revealed they were both married.
The late-night "snack" didn't last long.
While settling the bill, Lucas muttered, "Don't say I never do anything for you. The one with the big eyes is mine. Take the other one straight to a hotel."
"Isn't that pushing it?" I hesitated.
Lucas shot me a look. "What's your deal? I was aiming for a threesome, but they weren't into it. Consider this a favor. Relax—they're practically begging for it."
With a smirk, he slung an arm around the big-eyed agent and led her to his BMW.
The other woman turned to me. "You didn't drive?"
"I don't have a car anymore."
The admission stung. After the factory collapsed, I'd sold mine just to pay the workers.
Her face fell. "Oh. No big deal. There's a cheap motel nearby."
I was floored. I'd come hoping for business leads, not… this.
I didn't want to betray Emily, but the agent was relentless, dragging me into a grimy motel down the alley.
Inside, she started stripping without ceremony. "You'll need to wear protection. So, how do you like it?"
"Hold on. Let's just talk," I said. "Do real estate agents usually offer… extras?"
She paused, still in her lingerie, and flopped onto the bed with a laugh. "Oh, come on. Don't play dumb. Times are tough—nobody buys unless we throw in a little incentive."
"Does your husband know?" I asked carefully.
She scoffed. "What's he gonna do? He's useless. Between the car payments and the mortgage, if I don't close a deal this month, we're screwed. The bank's breathing down our necks. We're all just trying to survive."
Her expression darkened.
Somehow, her words felt like a punch to the gut.
If my factory hadn't gone under, Emily wouldn't have had to become a real estate agent.
Wait—did that mean she might be doing the same?
What a relief.
"I'll pass. Have fun."
I wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of entertaining Lucas Roscente. The guy was a walking stereotype—a trust-fund playboy who never missed a chance to brag.
Back when my factory still had ties to his family, I'd humored him a few times, tagging along to bars for the sake of networking.
"Don't be such a buzzkill. Get over here," Lucas insisted. "Yeah, your factory tanked, but give it time. I'll hook you up with some big clients—rebuilding won't be a problem. Come on!"
I hadn't planned on going, but the offer was hard to ignore.
Lucas was all talk, sure, but he had the connections to back it up.
In business, hard work and luck only got you so far. The real game-changer? Knowing the right people.
After a moment's hesitation, I caved, rushed home to change, and headed over.
Just like in the video, the two agents weren't hard on the eyes—flawless makeup, smooth skin, and tight tank tops that left little to the imagination.
Small talk revealed they were both married.
The late-night "snack" didn't last long.
While settling the bill, Lucas muttered, "Don't say I never do anything for you. The one with the big eyes is mine. Take the other one straight to a hotel."
"Isn't that pushing it?" I hesitated.
Lucas shot me a look. "What's your deal? I was aiming for a threesome, but they weren't into it. Consider this a favor. Relax—they're practically begging for it."
With a smirk, he slung an arm around the big-eyed agent and led her to his BMW.
The other woman turned to me. "You didn't drive?"
"I don't have a car anymore."
The admission stung. After the factory collapsed, I'd sold mine just to pay the workers.
Her face fell. "Oh. No big deal. There's a cheap motel nearby."
I was floored. I'd come hoping for business leads, not… this.
I didn't want to betray Emily, but the agent was relentless, dragging me into a grimy motel down the alley.
Inside, she started stripping without ceremony. "You'll need to wear protection. So, how do you like it?"
"Hold on. Let's just talk," I said. "Do real estate agents usually offer… extras?"
She paused, still in her lingerie, and flopped onto the bed with a laugh. "Oh, come on. Don't play dumb. Times are tough—nobody buys unless we throw in a little incentive."
"Does your husband know?" I asked carefully.
She scoffed. "What's he gonna do? He's useless. Between the car payments and the mortgage, if I don't close a deal this month, we're screwed. The bank's breathing down our necks. We're all just trying to survive."
Her expression darkened.
Somehow, her words felt like a punch to the gut.
If my factory hadn't gone under, Emily wouldn't have had to become a real estate agent.
Wait—did that mean she might be doing the same?
End of My Hot Wife's Double Life Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to My Hot Wife's Double Life book page.