My Hot Wife's Double Life - Chapter 6: Chapter 6
You are reading My Hot Wife's Double Life, Chapter 6: Chapter 6. Read more chapters of My Hot Wife's Double Life.
A naked woman knelt beside him, hips swaying with wild abandon. The sight made my blood boil.
Thank God it wasn't my wife, Emily Laurent, or her friend Sophia Valentine.
Of course not. Emily was way too innocent for that kind of scene.
They were probably just… working out. Yeah, a total coincidence.
Relief washed over me, and I fired back a teasing text: "Lucas, have your fun, but don't let some pissed-off husband catch you. I'm not bailing you out."
"Screw you," Lucas Roscente shot back, laughing. "I'm buying their damn house. Besides, most of these real estate agents have deadbeat husbands anyway."
When it came to women, Lucas was a legend. In all the years I'd known him, the guy had probably slept with hundreds—maybe even thousands.
And never the same woman twice.
"This is nothing," he added with a smirk. "Listen, I've got your back. There's a huge property launch at the Vienna Marriott this weekend. I'll get you in. Time to expand your horizons."
I frowned. "Why would I go? I'm not house hunting."
"You're able. It's not about the property. There's a masquerade ball at night. Those female agents? Dressed to kill. You can do whatever you want. Get it now?"
"I don't have to buy anything?"
"The owner's a buddy. Bringing you in is no big deal. And trust me—you need to come. I'll introduce you to some heavy hitters. Land a few contracts, and your factory's back in business."
That got me.
The masquerade ball meant nothing. Those connections? Game-changing.
After my factory went under, I'd paid off every worker—but the bank still owned me over $800K.
Delivering takeout for the next decade wouldn't cover that. The only way out was to bring the factory back to life.
Swallowing my excitement, I replied, "Thanks, Lucas. I'm in."
"Save the gratitude. I'll add you to the group chat. Bunch of loaded guys in there—they drop opportunities. But keep it quiet. You're my plus-one. If you leak anything, it's my ass."
A QR code flashed on my screen.
Group name: Vienna Masquerade Night.
After the admin approved me, the chat exploded.
"Here's Grand Realty's top seller—Evelyn Xu. Pretty face, but too skinny. Meh."
Someone had posted a video.
Another "top performer."
The footage was… intense. The woman was undeniably gorgeous—sleek, model-like.
The guy filming her was a potbellied slob, hands roaming like he owned her. His gut practically blocked the camera.
Watching it felt like seeing a rare orchid crushed under a hog's hoof.
Money really did buy anything. No matter how ugly, some women would still throw themselves at you.
"That's nothing. Check this out—a legit goddess. Rumor is she's got a smoking-hot friend too."
Another video popped up.
I clicked, ready to enjoy the show—but something felt off.
The longer I watched, the more familiar this "goddess" looked.
Thank God it wasn't my wife, Emily Laurent, or her friend Sophia Valentine.
Of course not. Emily was way too innocent for that kind of scene.
They were probably just… working out. Yeah, a total coincidence.
Relief washed over me, and I fired back a teasing text: "Lucas, have your fun, but don't let some pissed-off husband catch you. I'm not bailing you out."
"Screw you," Lucas Roscente shot back, laughing. "I'm buying their damn house. Besides, most of these real estate agents have deadbeat husbands anyway."
When it came to women, Lucas was a legend. In all the years I'd known him, the guy had probably slept with hundreds—maybe even thousands.
And never the same woman twice.
"This is nothing," he added with a smirk. "Listen, I've got your back. There's a huge property launch at the Vienna Marriott this weekend. I'll get you in. Time to expand your horizons."
I frowned. "Why would I go? I'm not house hunting."
"You're able. It's not about the property. There's a masquerade ball at night. Those female agents? Dressed to kill. You can do whatever you want. Get it now?"
"I don't have to buy anything?"
"The owner's a buddy. Bringing you in is no big deal. And trust me—you need to come. I'll introduce you to some heavy hitters. Land a few contracts, and your factory's back in business."
That got me.
The masquerade ball meant nothing. Those connections? Game-changing.
After my factory went under, I'd paid off every worker—but the bank still owned me over $800K.
Delivering takeout for the next decade wouldn't cover that. The only way out was to bring the factory back to life.
Swallowing my excitement, I replied, "Thanks, Lucas. I'm in."
"Save the gratitude. I'll add you to the group chat. Bunch of loaded guys in there—they drop opportunities. But keep it quiet. You're my plus-one. If you leak anything, it's my ass."
A QR code flashed on my screen.
Group name: Vienna Masquerade Night.
After the admin approved me, the chat exploded.
"Here's Grand Realty's top seller—Evelyn Xu. Pretty face, but too skinny. Meh."
Someone had posted a video.
Another "top performer."
The footage was… intense. The woman was undeniably gorgeous—sleek, model-like.
The guy filming her was a potbellied slob, hands roaming like he owned her. His gut practically blocked the camera.
Watching it felt like seeing a rare orchid crushed under a hog's hoof.
Money really did buy anything. No matter how ugly, some women would still throw themselves at you.
"That's nothing. Check this out—a legit goddess. Rumor is she's got a smoking-hot friend too."
Another video popped up.
I clicked, ready to enjoy the show—but something felt off.
The longer I watched, the more familiar this "goddess" looked.
End of My Hot Wife's Double Life Chapter 6. Continue reading Chapter 7 or return to My Hot Wife's Double Life book page.