Chapter 1

Valentine's night, I bought a sexy dress, put on exquisite makeup, and went to the bar to meet my husband.

But I accidentally overheard his buddies asking him:

"Wyatt, we pretend to be you and take turns holding hands and kissing your wife—she really won't notice?"

Wyatt blew out a smoke ring, unconcerned:

"She has face blindness. She won't notice."

"But let's be clear upfront—play around all you want, but don't sleep with her. I don't do secondhand."

For the past three years, the people dating me, holding my hand, and kissing me were never Wyatt.

Of course I knew.

I also knew that for three years, the man who gripped my waist and tangled with me passionately every night wasn't Wyatt either.

That man was waiting for me at home right now.

My phone rang just as Preston carried me out of the bathroom.

His sweaty, damp chest pressed against my back as he pinned me against the floor-to-ceiling window, one hand gripping my chin to demand another kiss.

Preston's stamina was astonishing.

No matter how many times we'd been together, I still couldn't quite handle his tireless demands.

I used the gap while catching my breath to poke his waist as a reminder:

"Phone."

Only then did he pick up his phone and glance at it, cursing under his breath.

He quickly flipped the phone face down, then gently lowered his head to kiss my earlobe.

"Baby, I need to take this call."

Preston went out to the balcony.

I silently threw on a robe and went downstairs, opened the car door, and got in.

Through the car's Bluetooth connected to Wyatt's phone, his cold voice came through:

"Switch with me tomorrow."

Preston laughed carelessly:

"What, only three years and you already can't bear to part with her?"

Wyatt paused, apparently downing a drink, his voice somewhat heavy:

"Not really. My grandfather's birthday is tomorrow, I need to bring her. And just reminding you—it's Lucas's turn on Friday."

As soon as he finished speaking, a burst of laughter erupted:

"Damn, Wyatt, you're way too generous! You just got married and you're already lending your wife out to your buddies to play with?"

Wyatt blew out a smoke ring, unconcerned:

"Blind box game, fair and square. She's just Gianna—I can afford to lose her."

"But let's be clear upfront—play around all you want, but don't sleep with her. I don't do secondhand."

Someone clicked their tongue.

"What's there to worry about? Who'd even want her?"

"Though Gianna does have a nice body. Wyatt sent a photo in the group chat before of her right after her shower—it was pretty hot. None of you five were even a little tempted?"

"I was pretty tempted."

Preston's voice suddenly cut in.

Wyatt's side suddenly went quiet, the atmosphere turning strangely tense, making my spine crawl.

"Playing around is fine, but I'm not becoming a homewrecker."

Preston said:

"Though sleeping with her would actually work out—isn't her birthday coming up in a few days? Weren't you planning to reveal everything then?"

The blaring music on the other end drowned out Preston's voice.

But I could still hear Vivian laughing by his ear.

Vivian was Wyatt's first love.

I'd followed Wyatt around since childhood, watching him and Vivian go from acquaintances to lovers.

But Wyatt's grandfather, Mr. Anker, didn't like her, declaring that if Wyatt continued with her, he'd revoke his inheritance rights.

Only then did Wyatt agree to the arranged marriage with me.

After nursing a crush for eighteen years, I'd finally achieved my dream, only to discover it was nothing but a game for these wealthy young masters.

Vivian laughed in agreement:

"Right, Wyatt? Her birthday's in a few days—you guys should give her a big gift and tell her the truth."

"From the day you got married, you've all been taking turns playing with her... Now that I think about it, Gianna's kind of like a bus—anyone can ride."

"Shut up."

Wyatt and Preston's rebukes came simultaneously, and the other end of the line fell into silence again.