My Wife's Livestream Scandal - Chapter 6: Chapter 6
You are reading My Wife's Livestream Scandal, Chapter 6: Chapter 6. Read more chapters of My Wife's Livestream Scandal.
"You seriously don't know what you did? Here—take a look at the X-ray yourself!"
The doctor's voice was razor-sharp as he flung the results at me.
One glance, and my face burned—humiliation and fury twisting inside me.
There, clear as day on the scan, was a thick metal rod lodged deep in my wife's intestines.
The shape left no room for doubt.
Vivian Lowell—my wife—had been playing with that thing in broad daylight.
And she'd played her way straight into the ER, nearly dying in the process.
Who the hell had she been playing with?
Was this why she'd been freezing me out of our bed?
Rage coiled like a snake in my chest as I locked eyes with the doctor. "Was she alone when they found her?"
The doctor caught the venom in my tone and hesitated. "No clue. The EMTs brought her in. Go settle the bill downstairs. She lost a ton of blood—still under anesthesia. Could be hours before she wakes up."
I snatched the payment slip and stormed out, my mind a hurricane of betrayal.
No wonder Emily Langley had bolted. Who'd want to be tied to this kind of disgrace?
But the real question clawing at me—had Vivian been solo, or was there someone else in the room?
After paying, I marched back to her ward. Still unconscious.
I grabbed her phone, pressed it to her slack face, and unlocked it.
Time to dig up the truth she'd buried.
"Baby, you okay?"
"Fuck, online shopping's a scam. My bad—slipped."
"Hit me up when you wake up."
The messages detonated in my skull.
So. She wasn't alone.
My breath turned jagged. My legs buckled, strength bleeding out of me.
Gritting my teeth, I collapsed onto the hospital stairwell and chain-smoked two cigarettes, forcing my hands to stop shaking. Then, with numb fingers, I scrolled through Vivian's chats with this bastard.
Going commando at work. Quickies in public. Roleplay. The massage table in the office breakroom…
Every line was filth.
They'd tried every sick fantasy—today's "toy" had just gone sideways.
Each vulgar word carved into me like a knife.
The pain was unbearable.
And the rage—
I never knew Vivian had this in her.
To my face, she was ice—calling me worthless, a failure who couldn't give her the life she wanted.
Yet behind my back? She'd groveled for another man like an animal in heat—getting off on the betrayal, on the degradation.
A cheap, disgusting whore.
I couldn't breathe. I killed the screen and stared blankly out the window, suddenly numb to everything.
Time blurred. Cigarette butts piled at my feet. My mouth tasted like ash, but the weight in my chest never lifted.
"Family of Bed 43! Patient's awake—return immediately!"
The nurse's voice crackled over the intercom, repeating until it finally cut through the fog.
By the time I shoved into the room, Vivian was frantically digging under her pillow—
Searching for her phone.
The doctor's voice was razor-sharp as he flung the results at me.
One glance, and my face burned—humiliation and fury twisting inside me.
There, clear as day on the scan, was a thick metal rod lodged deep in my wife's intestines.
The shape left no room for doubt.
Vivian Lowell—my wife—had been playing with that thing in broad daylight.
And she'd played her way straight into the ER, nearly dying in the process.
Who the hell had she been playing with?
Was this why she'd been freezing me out of our bed?
Rage coiled like a snake in my chest as I locked eyes with the doctor. "Was she alone when they found her?"
The doctor caught the venom in my tone and hesitated. "No clue. The EMTs brought her in. Go settle the bill downstairs. She lost a ton of blood—still under anesthesia. Could be hours before she wakes up."
I snatched the payment slip and stormed out, my mind a hurricane of betrayal.
No wonder Emily Langley had bolted. Who'd want to be tied to this kind of disgrace?
But the real question clawing at me—had Vivian been solo, or was there someone else in the room?
After paying, I marched back to her ward. Still unconscious.
I grabbed her phone, pressed it to her slack face, and unlocked it.
Time to dig up the truth she'd buried.
"Baby, you okay?"
"Fuck, online shopping's a scam. My bad—slipped."
"Hit me up when you wake up."
The messages detonated in my skull.
So. She wasn't alone.
My breath turned jagged. My legs buckled, strength bleeding out of me.
Gritting my teeth, I collapsed onto the hospital stairwell and chain-smoked two cigarettes, forcing my hands to stop shaking. Then, with numb fingers, I scrolled through Vivian's chats with this bastard.
Going commando at work. Quickies in public. Roleplay. The massage table in the office breakroom…
Every line was filth.
They'd tried every sick fantasy—today's "toy" had just gone sideways.
Each vulgar word carved into me like a knife.
The pain was unbearable.
And the rage—
I never knew Vivian had this in her.
To my face, she was ice—calling me worthless, a failure who couldn't give her the life she wanted.
Yet behind my back? She'd groveled for another man like an animal in heat—getting off on the betrayal, on the degradation.
A cheap, disgusting whore.
I couldn't breathe. I killed the screen and stared blankly out the window, suddenly numb to everything.
Time blurred. Cigarette butts piled at my feet. My mouth tasted like ash, but the weight in my chest never lifted.
"Family of Bed 43! Patient's awake—return immediately!"
The nurse's voice crackled over the intercom, repeating until it finally cut through the fog.
By the time I shoved into the room, Vivian was frantically digging under her pillow—
Searching for her phone.
End of My Wife's Livestream Scandal Chapter 6. Continue reading Chapter 7 or return to My Wife's Livestream Scandal book page.