My Undercover Wife and Her Secret Lover

While carrying out an undercover mission, my wife discovered that a male hostage had been poisoned. To save him, she sacrificed herself, "battling" alongside him for three days and three nights.

But the toxin in his body was never fully purged. Every time it flared up, she would rush to his side at once to help neutralize it—completely ignoring me, her husband, as if I didn't exist.

And yet, when she learned that I had gone missing, she broke down completely.

While on a mission, the male hostage was drugged. My wife, working undercover, used her own body to purge the poison from his system.

They "fought it out" for three days and three nights.

When the mission ended and she returned, her cheeks were flushed, her clothes in disarray, her chest left completely exposed. She looked at me with guilt written all over her face.

"On the way back, I was bitten by a snake. I almost died. Nick saved me by sucking the venom out.

"Later, he was drugged. To repay him for saving my life, I had no choice but to give myself to him to help him detox."

To soothe me, she snatched the lit cigarette from my hand and pressed it against her own arm, burning a scar into her skin.

After that, every time Nick Vaughn's poison flared up, she would rush to his side without hesitation. The scars on her arm only grew more numerous.

More than half a year later, she knelt in front of me, clutching a pregnancy test report, crying as she begged.

"The countless cigarette burns on my body… consider them my compensation to you. But Nick's mother has been diagnosed—she only has about a year left. Her final wish is to see her grandson born. I have to fulfill that wish.

"As for the child, once he's born, I'll have him call you his second father. When he grows up, he'll take care of us both and show us filial respect."

I clenched my fists and replied flatly, "Whatever you say."

But as I turned away, I dialed an overseas number.

"I accept your terms. Within three days, I'll get a divorce."

…

After hanging up, I booked a flight abroad.

Just then, Tasha Hale returned with a group of people. Seeing my indifferent expression, her face tightened with displeasure.

"Thomas, where are your manners? My friends came to celebrate my pregnancy, and this attitude of yours is really killing the mood."

I clenched my hands so tightly my nails nearly dug into my flesh. A wave of humiliation surged through me.

My wife was carrying another man's child, and I was supposed to be happy about it?

What a cruel joke.

Noticing my dissatisfaction, Tasha let go of Nick's hand and sat down beside me.

Lowering her head, she gently stroked her belly.

"Thomas, I know you mind this child, but you will always be my husband. That will never change."

She tentatively reached for my hand, but I instinctively pulled away.

Her best friend, Emily Grisham, couldn't stand it and rushed over.

"Thomas, ever since you quit your job, you've been loafing around at home all day. Tasha risks her life to support this family—doesn't that count for something?

"Besides, she only helped Nick detox out of gratitude. The pregnancy was an accident. You keep saying you love her—real love means accepting everything about her. Do you even understand that?"

As her accusations rang in my ears, the wound in my abdomen began to throb faintly.

Once, during a mission, Tasha was injured. I gave her one of my kidneys, but she never knew. After the surgery, my health was severely weakened, and I had no choice but to resign and recover at home.

I cooked for her, cared for her. She once told me that after completing one final mission, she would come home, stay with me, have several children, and we would live a happy family life together.

But I never imagined that what I would be waiting for… was her entangled with another man night after night, even carrying his child.

Suppressing the pain in my heart, I said, "Tasha, let's get a divorce."

After saying that, I turned and walked out, unwilling to let anyone see the tears welling in my eyes.

I had just reached the garden when Tasha ran out and called after me.

"Thomas, it's so late. Where are you going? It's dangerous outside. I'm worried."

She stepped up behind me and draped a scarf around my neck.

"It's getting cold. Keep warm. If you start coughing, I'll worry."

During one mission, I had jumped into an icy river to save her, leaving me with a lasting illness—whenever I caught a chill, I would cough up blood.

She carefully wrapped the scarf around me, even leaving a lipstick mark on it like a token of love.

But her next words chilled my heart all over again.

"Thomas, there's something I want to discuss with you. Nick's condition is getting worse, and his mother's illness has been relapsing lately. I need to keep him by my side and take good care of him."

She took out a card and handed it to me.

"There's money in here. I'll book you the best hotel, and the rest is for your daily expenses. Just bear with it for now. Once I give birth, I'll bring you back immediately, okay?"

So her sudden concern… was just to coax me into moving out, to make Nick happy. She allowed another man to take over my place, leaving me—the rightful master of this home—homeless. What a joke.

I didn't take the card. I only nodded.

"I understand. I'll move out tomorrow."

Nick also came out, watching her from a distance, his face full of concern.

Tasha forced the card into my hand.

"I'll have the driver arrange the best hotel for you right away. Stay there in peace. If you need anything, contact me anytime."

I watched as she turned without hesitation and walked toward him. Hand in hand, they went back inside together.

It felt as if I had fallen into an ice cellar, a bitter cold spreading endlessly through my chest.