My Sales Champion Wife's Secrets - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

First off, my wife Lillian looked absolutely stunning—irresistible, really. Second, I had to know if she'd been lying to me.
Afterward, I leaned back against the headboard, catching my breath.
Lillian curled up against me, her almond-shaped eyes narrowing in a playful glare. "I don't like you anymore," she huffed, lips pursed. "You have zero idea how to be gentle."
I smirked. "Whose bright idea was it to ambush me like that? If anything, I think it just made things hotter."
"Jerk!"
She swatted my chest, then added, "Oh, by the way, my company's got some event this weekend. I might be gone all day."
"What kind of event?" I asked, keeping my tone casual.
"Just some developer's property booking promo. Don't stress about it. I might not answer my phone, so don't blow it up, okay?"
"Where's it at?"
"Some hotel. Vienna Grand, I think."
Boom.
My brain short-circuited.
Vienna Grand Hotel. Masquerade Ball Night.
Wasn't that exactly what Damian had warned me about? A twisted event where men and women went at it in the open, and female agents were treated like merchandise up for grabs.
This couldn't just be a coincidence anymore.
White-hot fury surged through me. I wanted to grab her and demand the truth right then—but she'd already dozed off mid-sentence.
After a tense pause, I decided not to wake her. Instead, I quietly unlocked her phone with Face ID.
I combed through everything—contacts, messages, work chats. All of it looked clean. Her new contacts were just potential clients, conversations strictly professional.
Her work group had a pinned announcement:
Sunday, 7 PM. Property Booking Event at Vienna Grand Hotel, first floor.
Below were pricing tables for different units, followed by the manager's rah-rah speech about sales tactics.
Everything seemed legit. And if I remembered right, Damian had mentioned the third floor.
Maybe it really was just a coincidence. Maybe I was losing it.
Guilt gnawed at me as I thought about how hard Lillian had been working this past month—running herself ragged with clients, trying to ease my burdens.
I shouldn't have doubted her.
The next day, I wrapped up my delivery shifts early and decided to surprise her by picking her up from work.
I waited outside the real estate office, scanning the crowd. No sign of her.
Finally, I walked in.
A female agent in a skin-tight uniform swooped in, flashing a megawatt smile. "Looking for a property, sir? Let me show you around—we've got the best listings in town!"
She looped her arm through mine, pressing her chest against me.
Since when did real estate agents get this hands-on?
"Sorry, actually here to see Lillian Laurent. Is she in?"
The woman's smile flickered. "Oh, her? Probably out showing properties." She leaned in, lowering her voice. "But if you've got friends looking to buy, send them my way, yeah? I'll make it worth your while."
She winked. I had no clue what that meant, but I nodded vaguely before bolting.
So much for the surprise.
I called Lillian. "Where you at, honey?"
Her voice was hushed. "At Sophie's place. She asked me to teach her yoga. Why?"
"Nothing. Just come home soon."
I kept my next move to myself.
Sophia had moved into a new townhouse earlier this year. I knew the address. Hopping on my bike, I headed straight there.
The front door was unlocked, lights on inside. A faint buzzing sound drifted from upstairs—probably their workout still going.
I crept up, finding the living room empty. The bedroom door was slightly ajar.
Grinning, I got ready to scare them.
Then I kicked the door open.
The second it swung wide, my blood turned to ice.