He Donated to Her, I Divorced Him

When I woke, I was gasping for breath, staring blankly at the ceiling. Today was my third wedding anniversary with Thiago. I had started preparing a day early. I bought red roses and arranged them in crystal vases, cooked steak, and searched through every closet until I found the seductive little lingerie he used to love most. The thought of the scenes that kept haunting my dreams made heat crawl up my face and my heart pound faster. I took a deep breath and forced down the restless desire rising inside me. Ever since Naomi moved in after Samuel's death, grief had hung over the house, and Thiago had not touched me in a year. My fingers tightened around the soft faux-fur tail attached to the outfit, and despite myself, a fragile thread of anticipation bloomed in my chest. The clock had already struck eleven. Thiago was usually home by ten sharp. I had come back early that day because I wanted to surprise him. Suddenly, a scream tore through the quiet house. "Mrs. Lambert! Fire! Naomi's room is on fire! I was in the garden, and I saw smoke pouring out of her window!" The housekeeper rushed into my bedroom, sweat covering her forehead. Naomi was Samuel's wife, my sister-in-law. After Samuel died in the line of duty, she had been living in our home. At first, we hadn't been close. Everything changed after she accidentally heard me moaning in my sleep. She didn't avoid me afterward. Instead, she understood me. She comforted me, reached out to me first, helped soothe the loneliness I was too ashamed to admit, and apologized again and again for the strain her presence had placed on my marriage. Over time, the distance between us disappeared, and we became as close as sisters. Even when Thiago let her stay in our home after Samuel's death, I never complained. All I wanted was for the three of us to live peacefully under the same roof. Yet yesterday, I had dreamed of Thiago again. In that dream, he was making love to me, but halfway through, the woman in his arms became Naomi. I woke with a violent start. Since Naomi was supposed to be away that day, I planned to spend our anniversary properly with my husband. I never expected her room to catch fire. "That room should be empty," I said, forcing myself to stay calm. "Nobody panic! Grab the extinguishers and follow me!" I led several servants toward the second floor. The bedroom door was ajar, thick smoke rolling through the gap. I pushed the door open with one hand. Inside the smoke-filled room, two naked bodies were tangled together. The man gripped the woman's waist and slammed into her with brutal force, the veins at his temples bulging. Her soft, broken moans broke apart with every thrust, and her hands clawed desperately at his back. My first thought was that some reckless servant had dared to use the master bedroom for an affair. Then the smoke shifted in the air, and I saw the man's face. Thiago's profile was flushed with lust. His eyes were glazed, unfocused, while his hips drove harder and harder into the woman beneath him. His lips pressed against her collarbone and trailed lower, sucking greedily at her n*****s as if he couldn't get enough. "Ah... Slow... Slow down..." The woman beneath him threw her head back. Her face was flushed, her mouth open as she panted, and her messy hair clung to her cheeks with sweat. Then I saw the woman I had trusted more than almost anyone. It was Naomi. I went completely still in the doorway. A violent buzzing exploded inside my head until the entire world narrowed into one sharp, piercing ring. "Thiago?" His name scraped out of my throat, and the taste of blood rose in my mouth. The man on the bed finally lifted his eyes and glanced at my pale, helpless expression. But he didn't stop. Instead, he smiled faintly, cruelly. "Tell me the truth, Naomi. Don't I f**k you better than my brother ever did?" Naomi's eyes were blank with pleasure. Saliva kept spilling from the corners of her mouth as she moaned uncontrollably. Her legs were spread wide, and her body still strained eagerly to meet him. "Ah... Yes... Right there... Deeper... Yes, Thiago. Tell me... Do you like f*****g me more, or Liliana?" I stared at them, my eyes burning, my mind refusing to accept what I was seeing. Thiago, the man who had refused to touch me for so long, smiled with naked obsession. "You, I'd rather f**k you every damn time." Rage and disgust slammed into me at the same time, burning so fiercely that my whole body shook. I rushed forward without thinking. A flame leapt from the curtains and flashed toward my face! Scorching pain exploded across my hands and chest. Tears and sweat mixed on my face, and the pain nearly knocked my legs out from under me. "Mrs. Lambert!" The housekeeper, who had no idea what I had seen, grabbed me from behind and dragged me out with all her strength. The door slammed shut behind her. "The doorway's blocked by flames! We can't get back in! We have to wait for the fire department, Mrs. Lambert!" Dazed, I let her help me downstairs and lower me onto the sofa. My entire body wouldn't stop trembling. The firefighters arrived and put out the fire. I grabbed one firefighter by the sleeve, my eyes bloodshot. "What about the people inside? Are they dead?" The firefighter looked confused and answered honestly. "Ma'am, we didn't find anyone inside. The fire was mostly contained by the time we arrived. It looks like a charging cable shorted out." He frowned, his voice softening with concern. "But you have serious burns. We need to get you to a hospital." As he spoke, he stepped forward and reached for my hand. At that moment, a cold, commanding voice came from behind me. "I've got my wife." Thiago walked over with a smile and wrapped an arm around my waist, as if the scene I had just witnessed between him and Naomi had been nothing more than an illusion. I clenched my hands. Even so, I still caught the thick musk of s*x clinging to his body. The unmistakable scent of s*x.