My Sales Champion Wife's Secrets - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
You are reading My Sales Champion Wife's Secrets, Chapter 4: Chapter 4. Read more chapters of My Sales Champion Wife's Secrets.
Thank God those two real estate agents were easy on the eyes—dressed to impress, curves on full display—but at least they weren't my wife, Lillian Laurent, or Sophia Valentine.
Small mercies.
"I'll pass. You enjoy yourself."
I had zero interest in entertaining Damian Roscente. The guy was a walking stereotype—a trust-fund playboy who couldn't go five minutes without bragging about his latest conquests.
The only reason I'd ever put up with him before was business. Our factory had ties to his family's empire, so I'd gritted my teeth through a few bar-hopping "networking" sessions.
"Quit dragging your feet and get over here," Damian barked through the phone. "Yeah, your factory tanked, but so what? Give it time. I'll throw some big clients your way—you'll be back on top before you know it. Now hurry up!"
I hadn't planned on going, but the offer was hard to ignore.
Damian was all talk, sure, but he had the connections to back it up. In this world, hard work only got you so far. A well-placed ally? That was the real game-changer.
After a beat of hesitation, I caved. Rushed home, threw on something decent, and headed out.
Just like in the video, the agents were undeniably attractive—flawless makeup, smooth skin, tank tops clinging to every curve.
A few drinks in, I found out they were both married.
The "late-night snack" wrapped up fast.
While settling the tab, Damian nudged me. "Don't say I never do anything for you. The one with the doe eyes? Mine. The other one's all yours—take her straight to a hotel."
"Isn't this… messed up?" I muttered.
He rolled his eyes. "What's your damage? I was shooting for a threesome, but they weren't down. So congrats, you're the backup winner. Relax—they're desperate for my business."
With a smirk, he slung an arm around the doe-eyed agent and strutted to his BMW like he owned the sidewalk.
The remaining woman turned to me. "You didn't drive?"
"Don't have a car."
The admission burned. After the factory collapse, I'd sold everything just to pay the workers.
She sighed. "Great. Well, there's a cheap motel around the corner."
I was floored. I'd come here hoping for client leads, not… this.
Betraying Lillian was the last thing I wanted, but the agent wasn't taking no for an answer, dragging me into some dingy alleyway motel.
The second the door clicked shut, she started peeling off her clothes. "So, condoms, obviously. What's your vibe?"
"Whoa—hold on. Can we just talk? Do real estate agents usually… go this far for a sale?"
Pausing mid-strip, she flopped onto the bed in her lingerie and let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, honey. It's survival out there. Market's brutal—sometimes you gotta grease the wheels to close a deal."
"Does your husband know?" I asked carefully.
She snorted. "What's he gonna do? The man's a pushover. If I didn't do this, how else would we keep the lights on? One bad month, and the bank's knocking. We're all just trying to stay afloat."
Her face darkened.
Her words cut deeper than she probably meant them to. Was that a dig at me?
If my factory hadn't gone under, Lillian wouldn't have had to become a real estate agent in the first place.
And now, staring at this woman, I couldn't help but wonder…
Was Lillian doing the same?
Small mercies.
"I'll pass. You enjoy yourself."
I had zero interest in entertaining Damian Roscente. The guy was a walking stereotype—a trust-fund playboy who couldn't go five minutes without bragging about his latest conquests.
The only reason I'd ever put up with him before was business. Our factory had ties to his family's empire, so I'd gritted my teeth through a few bar-hopping "networking" sessions.
"Quit dragging your feet and get over here," Damian barked through the phone. "Yeah, your factory tanked, but so what? Give it time. I'll throw some big clients your way—you'll be back on top before you know it. Now hurry up!"
I hadn't planned on going, but the offer was hard to ignore.
Damian was all talk, sure, but he had the connections to back it up. In this world, hard work only got you so far. A well-placed ally? That was the real game-changer.
After a beat of hesitation, I caved. Rushed home, threw on something decent, and headed out.
Just like in the video, the agents were undeniably attractive—flawless makeup, smooth skin, tank tops clinging to every curve.
A few drinks in, I found out they were both married.
The "late-night snack" wrapped up fast.
While settling the tab, Damian nudged me. "Don't say I never do anything for you. The one with the doe eyes? Mine. The other one's all yours—take her straight to a hotel."
"Isn't this… messed up?" I muttered.
He rolled his eyes. "What's your damage? I was shooting for a threesome, but they weren't down. So congrats, you're the backup winner. Relax—they're desperate for my business."
With a smirk, he slung an arm around the doe-eyed agent and strutted to his BMW like he owned the sidewalk.
The remaining woman turned to me. "You didn't drive?"
"Don't have a car."
The admission burned. After the factory collapse, I'd sold everything just to pay the workers.
She sighed. "Great. Well, there's a cheap motel around the corner."
I was floored. I'd come here hoping for client leads, not… this.
Betraying Lillian was the last thing I wanted, but the agent wasn't taking no for an answer, dragging me into some dingy alleyway motel.
The second the door clicked shut, she started peeling off her clothes. "So, condoms, obviously. What's your vibe?"
"Whoa—hold on. Can we just talk? Do real estate agents usually… go this far for a sale?"
Pausing mid-strip, she flopped onto the bed in her lingerie and let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, honey. It's survival out there. Market's brutal—sometimes you gotta grease the wheels to close a deal."
"Does your husband know?" I asked carefully.
She snorted. "What's he gonna do? The man's a pushover. If I didn't do this, how else would we keep the lights on? One bad month, and the bank's knocking. We're all just trying to stay afloat."
Her face darkened.
Her words cut deeper than she probably meant them to. Was that a dig at me?
If my factory hadn't gone under, Lillian wouldn't have had to become a real estate agent in the first place.
And now, staring at this woman, I couldn't help but wonder…
Was Lillian doing the same?
End of My Sales Champion Wife's Secrets Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to My Sales Champion Wife's Secrets book page.