My Husband’s Masked Orgy Secret - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
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Fear twisted like a knife in my gut.
The look in his eyes chilled me to the bone—a kind of terror I'd never experienced.
Clutching the tattered remains of my composure, I shook my head, silently begging my husband with desperate eyes.
But Nathaniel's face was all reckless hunger, reason long forgotten.
"Please... don't," I whispered, my voice cracking.
Part of me was relieved to finally see him take charge—but not like this. This went against everything I believed in.
For the first time, defiance flared inside me.
"Let's just go," I insisted, my hands shaking as I adjusted my torn dress, trying to cover the ruined fabric. With forced politeness, I dipped my head toward our hosts.
"My apologies for the disruption."
The words landed like a hammer. Nathaniel's expression darkened—humiliation twisting into something colder. The fire in his eyes died, replaced by icy contempt.
He stood abruptly, jaw clenched, all earlier passion snuffed out.
Avoiding his glare, I balled my fists and walked away.
Vincent, ever the diplomat, managed a strained smile despite his obvious displeasure.
"No harm done. These things happen."
As we left, Sophia called after us, her gaze lingering just a little too long on Nathaniel.
"You must visit again soon!"
Too wrapped up in Nathaniel's stormy silence, I missed the sly curve of her smile.
But he answered smoothly, "Count on it."
The ride home was unbearable. Nathaniel sat rigid, radiating fury, his jaw set like a thundercloud about to burst.
I stole nervous glances, swallowing my words before they could escape.
This was the first time I'd ever refused him. Regret clawed at me—but so did betrayal.
Was this the man who'd sworn to cherish me? Who'd promised forever?
We arrived in suffocating silence. He vanished into the bedroom without a word.
Recognizing the warning signs of a cold war, I retreated to the guest room.
Sleep never came. The night played on loop in my mind, each memory sharper than the last.
I knew Nathaniel was just as trapped in this standoff—but something about this felt different.
Days passed without reconciliation. He moved through the house like a ghost, avoiding me completely.
The man who'd once adored me now acted like I didn't exist.
Heartache drove me to my oldest friend's doorstep.
"Lillian, do all men change after marriage?" The words spilled out between shaky sips of tea.
Lillian Granger had never liked Nathaniel. Hearing my misery only confirmed her suspicions.
"Men's promises are worthless," she scoffed. "Marriage is a rigged game where women always lose."
A lifelong bachelor, Lillian had dodged society's expectations for years.
But I couldn't accept it. "It's too soon. He wouldn't just... become a different person."
"Unless something—or someone—tempted him," she countered.
Her words planted doubt. Nathaniel had been distant lately. Late nights. Unexplained absences.
When I mentioned it, Lillian slammed her cup down.
"He's cheating! The signs are textbook!"
The pain hit like a blade between the ribs.
"No," I whispered. "He wouldn't."
Lillian's pitying look cut deeper. "Cynthia... do you really know him at all?"
The question struck like a slap.
As I sat frozen, she sighed. "Men always want the next shiny thing."
Her warning echoed in my skull, relentless.
Days later, staring at our hollow home, I wondered—had Nathaniel betrayed me?
Once trust cracks, the fractures only spread.
Yet pride kept me from confronting him. If he was lying, he'd never admit it.
I needed proof.
Under the guise of cleaning, I turned the house upside down.
Nathaniel left little behind—until I checked the bathroom.
There, hidden in plain sight, was the truth.
The look in his eyes chilled me to the bone—a kind of terror I'd never experienced.
Clutching the tattered remains of my composure, I shook my head, silently begging my husband with desperate eyes.
But Nathaniel's face was all reckless hunger, reason long forgotten.
"Please... don't," I whispered, my voice cracking.
Part of me was relieved to finally see him take charge—but not like this. This went against everything I believed in.
For the first time, defiance flared inside me.
"Let's just go," I insisted, my hands shaking as I adjusted my torn dress, trying to cover the ruined fabric. With forced politeness, I dipped my head toward our hosts.
"My apologies for the disruption."
The words landed like a hammer. Nathaniel's expression darkened—humiliation twisting into something colder. The fire in his eyes died, replaced by icy contempt.
He stood abruptly, jaw clenched, all earlier passion snuffed out.
Avoiding his glare, I balled my fists and walked away.
Vincent, ever the diplomat, managed a strained smile despite his obvious displeasure.
"No harm done. These things happen."
As we left, Sophia called after us, her gaze lingering just a little too long on Nathaniel.
"You must visit again soon!"
Too wrapped up in Nathaniel's stormy silence, I missed the sly curve of her smile.
But he answered smoothly, "Count on it."
The ride home was unbearable. Nathaniel sat rigid, radiating fury, his jaw set like a thundercloud about to burst.
I stole nervous glances, swallowing my words before they could escape.
This was the first time I'd ever refused him. Regret clawed at me—but so did betrayal.
Was this the man who'd sworn to cherish me? Who'd promised forever?
We arrived in suffocating silence. He vanished into the bedroom without a word.
Recognizing the warning signs of a cold war, I retreated to the guest room.
Sleep never came. The night played on loop in my mind, each memory sharper than the last.
I knew Nathaniel was just as trapped in this standoff—but something about this felt different.
Days passed without reconciliation. He moved through the house like a ghost, avoiding me completely.
The man who'd once adored me now acted like I didn't exist.
Heartache drove me to my oldest friend's doorstep.
"Lillian, do all men change after marriage?" The words spilled out between shaky sips of tea.
Lillian Granger had never liked Nathaniel. Hearing my misery only confirmed her suspicions.
"Men's promises are worthless," she scoffed. "Marriage is a rigged game where women always lose."
A lifelong bachelor, Lillian had dodged society's expectations for years.
But I couldn't accept it. "It's too soon. He wouldn't just... become a different person."
"Unless something—or someone—tempted him," she countered.
Her words planted doubt. Nathaniel had been distant lately. Late nights. Unexplained absences.
When I mentioned it, Lillian slammed her cup down.
"He's cheating! The signs are textbook!"
The pain hit like a blade between the ribs.
"No," I whispered. "He wouldn't."
Lillian's pitying look cut deeper. "Cynthia... do you really know him at all?"
The question struck like a slap.
As I sat frozen, she sighed. "Men always want the next shiny thing."
Her warning echoed in my skull, relentless.
Days later, staring at our hollow home, I wondered—had Nathaniel betrayed me?
Once trust cracks, the fractures only spread.
Yet pride kept me from confronting him. If he was lying, he'd never admit it.
I needed proof.
Under the guise of cleaning, I turned the house upside down.
Nathaniel left little behind—until I checked the bathroom.
There, hidden in plain sight, was the truth.
End of My Husband’s Masked Orgy Secret Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to My Husband’s Masked Orgy Secret book page.