My Wife's Livestream Scandal - Chapter 11: Chapter 11
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Vivian Lowell's face contorted with rage as she shot me a venomous glare. "So, Ethan Roland, you knew all along and just set me up, huh? Fine! I cheated. Big deal. Don't act like I don't know my rights. Adultery's just a moral slap on the wrist—legally, I still get half of everything. The car, the house, the money—it's mine. And if you think I'm signing anything that screws me over, think again!"
I smirked, ice in my voice. "Then don't sign. I'll drag this out until you beg. Try seeing another man, and I'll make sure you regret it. Bruises? Domestic disputes? Cops won't lift a finger. And these little photos and videos? Oh, they'll make the rounds—your family, friends, coworkers… especially your brother's bosses. Think he'll keep his job after that?"
"You—you're disgusting!" Vivian gasped, her face draining of color.
I leaned in, my grin sharp as a knife. "Not half as disgusting as you. You had the nerve to screw around, and now you're playing victim? A live show for the world to see—how classy. Oh, and let's not forget Marco Valentino. I've got every dirty second saved. Prostitution's illegal, sweetheart. How's that for leverage?"
I'd planned this moment perfectly, leaving her no escape. If I didn't win now, I didn't deserve to.
Predictably, her mother's loyalty crumbled the second her son's future was threatened. "Just sign the papers!" she hissed at Vivian.
Cornered, Vivian had no choice. The divorce went through, her signature slashed across the page like a surrender.
As for Marco? He took his beating like the coward he was and slithered away, tail between his legs.
Outside the courthouse, Vivian spun on me, eyes blazing. "Don't flatter yourself, Ethan. Divorcing me is your loss. You think anyone else will want you? Meanwhile, I'll remarry in a heartbeat. Marco's ten times the man you'll ever be!"
I chuckled darkly. "Perfect. A trashy whore for a worthless dog. Here's hoping your next ###Chapter ends under a truck."
Her face purpled with fury—then she swayed and hit the pavement.
I didn't look back.
Some people don't deserve mercy.
If murder weren't illegal, I'd have buried them both months ago. But reckless rage only lands you in prison, leaving scum like them to thrive. The news is full of idiots who learned that too late.
I wasn't one of them. Revenge would come—just not the way they expected.
True to form, Vivian and Marco wasted no time. They picked up right where they left off—this time on a massage table at the hospital, like animals.
From my screen, I watched their pathetic performance before tapping a key. A ghostly wail pierced the room.
"AH! What the hell?!" Marco flailed, yanking up his pants.
"It's Ethan!" Vivian snarled, snatching her phone. The eerie sound looped, unshakeable. No matter how she swiped or smashed it, the haunting continued.
Fuming, she chucked the phone against the wall. A new one replaced it—but she should've known better.
Days later, they booked another hotel, clueless that history was about to repeat.
I smirked, ice in my voice. "Then don't sign. I'll drag this out until you beg. Try seeing another man, and I'll make sure you regret it. Bruises? Domestic disputes? Cops won't lift a finger. And these little photos and videos? Oh, they'll make the rounds—your family, friends, coworkers… especially your brother's bosses. Think he'll keep his job after that?"
"You—you're disgusting!" Vivian gasped, her face draining of color.
I leaned in, my grin sharp as a knife. "Not half as disgusting as you. You had the nerve to screw around, and now you're playing victim? A live show for the world to see—how classy. Oh, and let's not forget Marco Valentino. I've got every dirty second saved. Prostitution's illegal, sweetheart. How's that for leverage?"
I'd planned this moment perfectly, leaving her no escape. If I didn't win now, I didn't deserve to.
Predictably, her mother's loyalty crumbled the second her son's future was threatened. "Just sign the papers!" she hissed at Vivian.
Cornered, Vivian had no choice. The divorce went through, her signature slashed across the page like a surrender.
As for Marco? He took his beating like the coward he was and slithered away, tail between his legs.
Outside the courthouse, Vivian spun on me, eyes blazing. "Don't flatter yourself, Ethan. Divorcing me is your loss. You think anyone else will want you? Meanwhile, I'll remarry in a heartbeat. Marco's ten times the man you'll ever be!"
I chuckled darkly. "Perfect. A trashy whore for a worthless dog. Here's hoping your next ###Chapter ends under a truck."
Her face purpled with fury—then she swayed and hit the pavement.
I didn't look back.
Some people don't deserve mercy.
If murder weren't illegal, I'd have buried them both months ago. But reckless rage only lands you in prison, leaving scum like them to thrive. The news is full of idiots who learned that too late.
I wasn't one of them. Revenge would come—just not the way they expected.
True to form, Vivian and Marco wasted no time. They picked up right where they left off—this time on a massage table at the hospital, like animals.
From my screen, I watched their pathetic performance before tapping a key. A ghostly wail pierced the room.
"AH! What the hell?!" Marco flailed, yanking up his pants.
"It's Ethan!" Vivian snarled, snatching her phone. The eerie sound looped, unshakeable. No matter how she swiped or smashed it, the haunting continued.
Fuming, she chucked the phone against the wall. A new one replaced it—but she should've known better.
Days later, they booked another hotel, clueless that history was about to repeat.
End of My Wife's Livestream Scandal Chapter 11. Continue reading Chapter 12 or return to My Wife's Livestream Scandal book page.