My Husband’s Masked Orgy Secret - Chapter 5: Chapter 5
You are reading My Husband’s Masked Orgy Secret, Chapter 5: Chapter 5. Read more chapters of My Husband’s Masked Orgy Secret.
Nathaniel Evans came home at midnight, right on schedule, his steps light as he hummed a cheerful tune—like a man who'd just had the best night of his life.
He must have seen her again.
The ache in my chest was so sharp I could barely breathe. I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to let the tears fall.
Same routine as always—kicking off his shoes, lighting a cigarette, then sliding into bed without so much as a glance in my direction.
He doesn't need me anymore.
Fine. If he wanted to play games, I'd play them better.
The next morning, I emptied half my savings to hire a private investigator, ordering round-the-clock surveillance on Nathaniel.
For days, he behaved like a saint—no suspicious detours, no secret meetups. But I wasn't fooled. I told the investigator to keep watching.
And then, just as I expected, he slipped up.
The investigator's report came in: After work, Nathaniel didn't head home. Instead, he stopped at a mall, bought a mask, changed into some ridiculous costume, and drove straight to the outskirts of the city.
What the hell was he doing?
The investigator had a theory: a masquerade ball.
My stomach twisted. A wild, sickening thought took hold.
Was he meeting Vincent and his crowd again?
A ping from my phone—the investigator had sent a location. The same damn villa we'd been to before.
Ice flooded my veins. I pressed my lips together so hard they hurt.
I had to see this for myself.
The investigator got me a costume, and before I knew it, I was standing outside that blindingly lit villa again, my heart pounding like a drum.
Cars lined the driveway—this wasn't just a small gathering. It was a full-blown party.
Before I stepped inside, the investigator clipped a tiny communicator to my dress. "Just in case," he said.
I took a shaky breath and pushed open the door.
The music hit me first—pulsing, heavy, drowning out all thought. Then the smell—perfume, alcohol, sweat.
Inside the lounge, couples lounged around, chatting, laughing. Everyone was masked, dressed in elaborate costumes, their identities hidden.
A woman in a rockstar outfit sauntered over, flashing me a dazzling smile.
"Madam, you look absolutely divine!"
I was dressed in a vintage cheongsam, my hair pinned up like some elegant socialite from another era. I forced a tight-lipped nod, afraid my voice would give me away.
The outfit drew attention. Men's eyes lingered a little too long, but I ignored them. I had one goal: find Nathaniel.
They kept offering me drinks, but their masks made it impossible to recognize anyone.
Then—sharp applause from the staircase.
Two men descended, dressed like something out of a fever dream. One was a cowboy, muscles on display, oozing confidence. The other? Barely dressed at all—just scraps of fabric and a grass skirt. A caveman.
My eyes darted between them before locking onto the caveman. There was something familiar about him.
The cowboy raised a hand, grinning. "Welcome to the masquerade! Tonight, no names, no rules. Just pleasure."
The crowd erupted in cheers, the music swelling as the energy in the room skyrocketed.
The caveman caught me staring and sauntered over.
"Madam, care for a drink?"
The second he spoke, I knew.
It was Nathaniel.
The man who hadn't spoken to me in weeks.
He must have seen her again.
The ache in my chest was so sharp I could barely breathe. I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to let the tears fall.
Same routine as always—kicking off his shoes, lighting a cigarette, then sliding into bed without so much as a glance in my direction.
He doesn't need me anymore.
Fine. If he wanted to play games, I'd play them better.
The next morning, I emptied half my savings to hire a private investigator, ordering round-the-clock surveillance on Nathaniel.
For days, he behaved like a saint—no suspicious detours, no secret meetups. But I wasn't fooled. I told the investigator to keep watching.
And then, just as I expected, he slipped up.
The investigator's report came in: After work, Nathaniel didn't head home. Instead, he stopped at a mall, bought a mask, changed into some ridiculous costume, and drove straight to the outskirts of the city.
What the hell was he doing?
The investigator had a theory: a masquerade ball.
My stomach twisted. A wild, sickening thought took hold.
Was he meeting Vincent and his crowd again?
A ping from my phone—the investigator had sent a location. The same damn villa we'd been to before.
Ice flooded my veins. I pressed my lips together so hard they hurt.
I had to see this for myself.
The investigator got me a costume, and before I knew it, I was standing outside that blindingly lit villa again, my heart pounding like a drum.
Cars lined the driveway—this wasn't just a small gathering. It was a full-blown party.
Before I stepped inside, the investigator clipped a tiny communicator to my dress. "Just in case," he said.
I took a shaky breath and pushed open the door.
The music hit me first—pulsing, heavy, drowning out all thought. Then the smell—perfume, alcohol, sweat.
Inside the lounge, couples lounged around, chatting, laughing. Everyone was masked, dressed in elaborate costumes, their identities hidden.
A woman in a rockstar outfit sauntered over, flashing me a dazzling smile.
"Madam, you look absolutely divine!"
I was dressed in a vintage cheongsam, my hair pinned up like some elegant socialite from another era. I forced a tight-lipped nod, afraid my voice would give me away.
The outfit drew attention. Men's eyes lingered a little too long, but I ignored them. I had one goal: find Nathaniel.
They kept offering me drinks, but their masks made it impossible to recognize anyone.
Then—sharp applause from the staircase.
Two men descended, dressed like something out of a fever dream. One was a cowboy, muscles on display, oozing confidence. The other? Barely dressed at all—just scraps of fabric and a grass skirt. A caveman.
My eyes darted between them before locking onto the caveman. There was something familiar about him.
The cowboy raised a hand, grinning. "Welcome to the masquerade! Tonight, no names, no rules. Just pleasure."
The crowd erupted in cheers, the music swelling as the energy in the room skyrocketed.
The caveman caught me staring and sauntered over.
"Madam, care for a drink?"
The second he spoke, I knew.
It was Nathaniel.
The man who hadn't spoken to me in weeks.
End of My Husband’s Masked Orgy Secret Chapter 5. Continue reading Chapter 6 or return to My Husband’s Masked Orgy Secret book page.