In the middle of the night, my smurf account gets added into a group chat called "lucky draw group".

The rule of the group chat is rather weird. Whoever gets their hands on the lucky draw that's titled "lucky winner" must reveal their deepest and most shocking secret.

I intend to watch the entire drama at first. But that's when a female user named Evie Sachs suddenly posts in the group chat.

"My husband has always thought that he's the children's actual father. The truth is, he's not."

Everyone in the group chat is quick to spam the chat with laughing emojis.

"Miss, you can't just come up with a story that far-fetched without any logic!"

"That's a really ridiculous story! Do you seriously take for all men to be idiots?"

"We demand photos as proof!"

Evie uploads a few photos of her sleeping with other men as well as the dates of her children's birth.

The moment I glance at the birthdays, my hand goes slack, causing the milk bottle to fall to the floor.

My daughters actually share the same birthdays as Evie's children!

My body went rigid, and it felt as if every drop of blood in me had rushed straight to my head.

That was impossible.

But those really were my two daughters' birthdays. I couldn't have remembered them wrong. My mind went completely blank, and for a second, even my breathing hitched.

The hot water I was using to make formula spilled onto my feet, but I stood there as if I couldn't feel anything.

I stared at those hotel room photos and zoomed in on them as much as I could.

I recognized the wallpaper, the bedside lamp, and even the room's layout. It was the same hotel chain that my wife, Evelyn Sachs, and I had often gone to before we were married.

Even through the blur, I could still make out the shape of her hairstyle.

It looked so much like her that a chill ran down my spine.

"This can't be real…" I murmured.

The next second, "Evie Sachs" sent another message, her tone light and shameless.

"Men are all the same, aren't they? They don't care whether the kids look like them. They only care whether they're having a good time."

The group chat instantly exploded.

"Girl, you're the boldest slut I've ever seen!"

"You don't get it. This is what makes her so real. The contrast is insane."

"Send a photo of you two or something from the scene. Drop the link!"

"Is there a video? I want to see what your husband looks like after getting cheated on."

My fingers shook, and all the color drained from my face.

Those people were laughing and asking for photos. At that moment, I wanted to break through the screen and tear every single one of them apart.

I kept my eyes fixed on that woman's profile picture. It showed only half of a woman's face. She was still posting, as if she were showing off.

"My husband has been raising both kids as his own this whole time. You have no idea how happy he is."

The people in the group went wild once more.

"Damn, girl! You're crazy!"

"Your husband got tricked into raising another man's kids. He's so pathetic."

"Girl, I understand exactly how you feel because I'm a bitch, too."

She took her time and sent out a few more screenshots. They were all hotel check-in records, and the dates were exactly nine months apart from the dates of birth on my daughters' birth certificates.

"Every time he went on a business trip, I met up with my first love. He didn't know a thing about the pregnancies, the births, or my postpartum recovery."

I watched as line after line of text scrolled past in the group chat. Every comment was like a blade, cutting into my heart over and over again.

"Is it true? Neither of my daughters is related to me?"

My throat tightened, and even getting the words out felt difficult. My hand was trembling so badly that I could barely hold the formula.

Then, Evie posted the final blow.

"My husband is actually in the middle of making baby milk and doing night feedings right now. Haha! Men really are pathetic."

At that moment, something in my head exploded.

I shot to my feet so abruptly that I knocked over the coffee table. Broken glass sliced into my foot, but I didn't feel any pain.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

Evelyn's voice came from the bedroom, but I couldn't be bothered to answer her.

The members of the group chat were still laughing, and Evelyn was still putting on a show, but I knew this wasn't a joke.

After I finished feeding the kids, I swallowed the nausea in my throat and made an excuse to wash the bottle so I could slip out of the bedroom.

I clicked into Evie's profile.

She hadn't shown her full face, but her background picture was a balcony shot. In the corner, there was a cartoon bear rug, and along the edge of it was a faint red wine stain.

My breath caught in my throat.

I had just bought that rug last month, and the pothos beside her foot was the same one I had repotted three days ago. That was my balcony.

My grip loosened, and my phone nearly slipped out of my hand.

I stared at the screen, my eyes fixed on that photo, as my heartbeat spiraled out of control. My lips trembled, my throat tightened, and my vision began to darken.

Just as I was about to tap her profile picture and send her a private message, another notification popped up.

"The kids get to call him Dad, and that should be his honor. He doesn't need to know whether they're his biological children or not."

It was still Evie, her tone light, as if everything she said were perfectly reasonable.

The group chat exploded once more.

"She's fearless!"

"I love a crazy married woman like you. Send a full-body shot."

"Give us the details and the whole story! We need a recording of this!"

I stared at the screen as the corner of my mouth twitched.

No one thought this was wrong, and no one felt ashamed. They were excited, like a pack of starving coyotes tearing into a piece of bloody meat, and I was the man who was being flayed alive without even realizing it.

My fingers shook as I prepared to type.

Just then, she sent another message.

"But it's fine. Soon, I'll be able to run away with the children's real father and live happily ever after. After all, that sucker is about to die."

For a split second, the words didn't register. When it finally clicked that the sucker was me, it felt as if my brain had been struck by a bolt of lightning.

She wanted me dead? She and that man were waiting for me to die so they could run off together?

I clenched my teeth so hard that my vision went red.

This wasn't just infidelity anymore. This was her practically announcing my murder.

Yet, the people in the group chat were still laughing.

"Oh, my God, this is insane! I love this plot."

"Girl, you have to live-stream it when you inherit everything."

"Damn! It's one thing to cuck the guy, but killing him is brutal…"

I stood frozen in the kitchen, my body ice-cold, while my brain felt like it was on fire. I tried to calm myself down and kept repeating under my breath, "Stay calm. Let's not jump to conclusions."

But the more I tried to steady myself, the more chaotic my thoughts became.

A while ago, Evelyn suddenly told me that she wanted to take out a life insurance plan for me, saying it was about "family responsibility."

Back then, I even thought she was being considerate, so I signed the papers without reading them.

Now that I thought about it again, I realized they were critical illness and accidental death policies, and Evelyn was listed as the sole beneficiary.

My head buzzed.

Recently, she had suddenly become obsessed with fitness. She went on morning runs, worked on her abs, and posted healthy meals every day.

She used to get winded just climbing stairs, and she wouldn't even touch detox tea. Now, she showed off her figure, filmed videos, and checked in at the gym more punctually than I showed up to work.

She adored our daughters and would choose outfits and buy tons of snacks for them. But whenever the girls called me "Dad" in front of outsiders, her face would darken.

"Don't call him 'Dad' when we're out and about," she said.

I was confused back then, but she smiled and brushed it off. Only now did I feel a chill run down my spine.

Her smile hadn't been the same as before for a long time. The way she smiled at me now was like an actress going by a script.

My throat was parched, my breathing heavy.

I started frantically digging through the drawers until I found the girls' hair ties. I pulled a few strands of hair from them and carefully put them into a sealed plastic bag.

I had to test them. Even if there was only a shred of possibility, I had to find out the truth.

I had just hidden the hair when the bedroom door suddenly opened.

Evelyn walked into the living room with her usual smile and went to get some water.

As she tipped the jug, she said casually, "Thanks for taking care of everything, honey. I love you. I've got a surprise planned for our anniversary next week. You have to be there this time, okay?"

I froze.

Our anniversary? A surprise?

I sneered inwardly. I couldn't believe she still had the nerve to bring that up. Still, I wanted to see what trick she was planning to pull.

…

For the next few days, I barely slept, my eyes glued to that group chat. Evelyn was far too active in the chat, popping up almost every two hours like clockwork.

Every time she came online, she posted a picture. They were graphic and provocative. The variety of locations was terrifying.

She posted photos of hotel sheets, mirror reflections, bathtub bubbles, outdoor benches, and the back seat of a car.

One image after another appeared on the screen.

Sometimes, she posted her legs. Sometimes, it was her back. Sometimes, nearly the entire lower half of her body was in the frame.

Although her face was obscured in every photo, I knew her too well. I could recognize her figure, her lines, and the mole on her lower back even with my eyes closed.

Below the posts, the comments from the group chat members were relentless and crude.

"Baby, can I meet you tonight?"

"I haven't been able to forget that sexy waist of yours for three days."

"Send a voice message. I want to hear your voice."

"Damn, you're perfect! This is exciting."

I stared at the screen, my teeth grinding together as my knuckles turned white.

Those animals treated her like a plaything, and she was enjoying it.

My blood boiled. I wanted nothing more than to rip that entire group out by the roots.

Meanwhile, Evelyn was like an actress who played her role to perfection. One moment she was lying next to me, calling me "honey", and the next she was on the screen, enticing other men.

She lived a double life, wild and unrestrained.

…

Three days later, I received the paternity test results.

My hands trembled as I flipped through the pages one by one. When I saw the conclusion printed on the final line, I slowly let out a long breath.

I didn't make a fuss. I only felt as if the boulder that had been pressing against my chest had finally been lifted.

Just as I was about to confront her, my phone suddenly rang.

It was Evelyn.

I tried my best to keep my voice calm as I answered the call, "Hello?"

A soft chuckle came from the other end. "Honey, I'm having dinner with my friends tonight, so I'll be home a little late."

I stared at the ceiling, unable to utter a word.

Evelyn's tone was light and completely devoid of guilt.

I forced myself to ask, "Why does your voice sound so strange?"

She paused for a moment, then laughed and brushed it off. "It's nothing. The office is cold, and the air-conditioning got to me."

I didn't respond.

She didn't press me either. After a few more perfunctory remarks, she hung up.

I stared at the disconnected call and sneered.

According to her phone location, she was clearly heading in the opposite direction from her office. She couldn't even be bothered to make the lie convincing.

She was certain I wouldn't check, certain I'd believe her, and certain I'd keep playing the role of a supportive fool.

And sure enough, I had believed her for all these years.

But things were different now.

I was the one who knew the truth. If I struck first, she had no one to blame but herself.

I dialed a number and said, "Michael, I need a favor."

…

On the day of our anniversary, Evelyn got up early. She did her makeup, styled her hair, tried on clothes, and even sprayed on perfume.

I sat on the edge of the bed and watched as she checked herself in the mirror, a single thought running through my mind.

She should just stop because her act wasn't the least bit convincing.

"How do I look?" she asked, glancing back at me with a wink. "I booked us a resort in the mountains. The view is beautiful, the food is good, and the atmosphere is perfect. You're going to love it."

I nodded with a fake smile and kept playing dumb.

We drove halfway up the mountain to a resort tucked deep in the woods.

The servers looked as if they had rehearsed everything in advance. They greeted us, led the way, and opened the private room with movements so smooth they seemed almost mechanical.

The table Evelyn had chosen was lavishly set with lobster, steak, red wine, and even roses arranged into the shape of a heart.

"To our anniversary," she said, raising her glass to me with a smile.

Smiling, I raised mine but didn't let the glasses touch.

Evelyn didn't seem to mind. She took a sip on her own and began pouring her heart out about how grateful she was.

"You really are the perfect husband. You hand over your entire paycheck, take care of all the chores, and you're so devoted to the kids. You know, all my friends say they're so jealous I married such a good man."

I listened without saying a word.

She kept smiling, piling food onto my plate with an over-the-top eagerness. Meanwhile, I just knocked back my wine, glass after glass, until the alcohol seared my throat.

She kept talking, almost as if she were performing for an audience.

"You've worked so hard these past few years, and I've always remembered that."

I continued to stay silent, and I hadn't even picked up my utensils.

Evelyn's smile slowly began to fade.

At last, her face darkened, and she slammed her palm against the table with a loud crack.

"I've been sitting here, forcing myself to compliment you, and you're just sitting there with that pathetic look on your face. Who the hell do you think you're looking at?"