Chapter 1

To help his childhood sweetheart who desperately needed money for cancer treatment, my husband volunteered to pay ten million dollars for her virginity.

I was about to object, but he shut me down with a lecture.

"Vivian has always been so proud and strong-willed. If we just gave her money outright, she'd see it as charity and it would hurt her self-esteem."

"Can't you have a little compassion? Are you really going to be jealous over something this trivial?"

I said nothing, just smiled and nodded in agreement.

He had no idea.

As an infectious disease specialist, I had already spotted the warning signs.

She didn't have cancer.

She was in the late stages of AIDS.

When Adrian came home, it was already past midnight.

He casually removed his shirt, inadvertently revealing the scratch marks on his back.

I froze in place, unable to speak for a long moment.

He was the first to break the silence: "It was Vivian's first time. It's normal for her to react intensely."

I clenched my fists.

Unable to hold back, I couldn't help but ask: "Did you at least use protection?"

He shook his head indifferently: "Vivian took medication beforehand. Stop worrying about nothing."

At those words, my tightly wound heart sank completely.

Just then, Adrian's phone rang.

It was Vivian calling, her voice tearful: "Adrian, I'm suddenly bleeding a lot. I'm so scared..."

Hearing this, he immediately panicked.

He rushed to reassure her: "Don't be afraid, I'm coming right now. I'll be there in ten minutes!"

Despite feeling utterly devastated, I still couldn't help myself. I reached out to stop him.

I was going to tell him about Vivian's true condition.

But he shook me off with an annoyed expression: "I already told you, I'm only doing this to help Vivian. If there was really something between us, would I have even let you know about it?"

He glared at me, quickly changed his clothes, and headed for the door.

Before leaving, he turned back and tossed out: "Wash my clothes and underwear. They got blood on them. They'll be harder to clean if you leave them too long."

The door slammed shut.

After Adrian left, I stared blankly at our wedding photo on the wall.

All these years, I'd been by his side as he built his business from nothing.

From a rental room smaller than ten square meters to a luxurious penthouse in the city center.

I knew every hardship we'd endured along the way, each one etched in my heart.

Adrian had been, by most measures, a decent husband.

After his startup earned its first big profit, the first thing he did was give me the wedding ceremony I'd never had.

He even had a ring custom-made for me.

The diamond on the ring wasn't large, and it had a tiny flaw.

Despite that, I'd always treasured it.

But this very man—the "good husband" everyone admired—had done the thing that hurt me most.

Without any protection, the infection rate after high-risk sexual activity was virtually one hundred percent.

Though I was furious, I ultimately couldn't bear it.

He still had seventy-two hours.

If he took post-exposure prophylaxis in time, he could still effectively avoid infection.

I was about to call him to remind him.

But just then, a new post appeared in my feed.

It was from Vivian, just posted: "I thought married men were supposed to be restrained. Turns out someone showed me zero mercy."

The photo showed her neck and shoulders covered in bite marks.

It seemed like a complaint, but it was really a brag about how intense things had been between her and Adrian.

More than that, what caught my eye first was the ring on her finger—glaringly bright.

The ring was almost identical in style to mine.

Except the diamond was larger, more flawless.

My heart trembled. I found the serial number engraved inside my wedding ring and called the brand's customer service.

After checking, the representative politely informed me: "Mr. Harris did previously order a diamond ring from our brand, but the first batch had defects, so we remade it for him later."

She paused. "Ms. Sullivan, we're very sorry for any inconvenience. Is there anything else you're unhappy with?"

I forced down my emotions and softly denied it, then hung up.

So this wedding ring had been custom-made for Vivian all along.

What I received was nothing more than a defective product.

In that moment, I felt like someone was strangling me.

It hurt. I couldn't breathe.

I had loved the wrong man. But at least I could cut my losses now.