My Professor Husband Cheated With His Student, Then I Married a Billionaire

When I found out that Jack Wayne had been cheating on me with his student, I brought 365 photos, solid evidence of his betrayal, and tore off his mask in front of everyone at his faculty award ceremony. When I handed him the divorce papers, he threatened to kill himself. To keep me, he actually stabbed himself. Before he was even fully taken to the hospital, his mistress stormed up to me. "It's all your fault, you frumpy old hag!" she shouted. "If you cared about him even a little instead of working all the time, would he have done something wrong? She continued, "I've already been generous enough to let you stay as the official wife. What more do you want? Are you trying to destroy everything?" With tears streaming down her face, she claimed she was his true love. I could not help but laugh out loud. True love? Then why did she need hymen repair surgery twenty times in the past year? Jack did not mind her being dirty. I, however, did not want to catch anything. Right in front of them, I calmly took out my phone and made a call. "Does your offer to marry me still stand?" Then I hung up. Jack suddenly sat up in the hospital bed. The bandage on his chest was still stained with faint blood from his self-inflicted wound. "Meg, enough is enough," he said. "I know what this is. You are just trying to get my attention because you feel insecure. Rory is younger than you and more considerate. I understand your jealousy." He paused, then spoke with a tone of moral righteousness. "Don't worry. She will not replace you as Mrs. Wayne. No one is more suitable for that position than you. But this time, you went too far. Because of you, she might even have trouble graduating. I will take care of her until she finishes school. I hope you can understand." I looked at him. Inside, my emotions surged like a storm. Ridiculous. If it were not for basic human decency, I would not even have sent him to the hospital. He was the one who cheated, yet he still acted like a superior passing judgment. I curled my lips but said nothing. Rory Jensen standing beside him blinked with fake innocence and spoke softly, "Professor Wayne, Mrs. Wayne… she's not secretly having an affair and waiting for someone else to marry her, right?" Jack glanced at me. "No. That is just her imagination," he said confidently. "In all these years, aside from me, what other man wanted her?" He smirked slightly, full of contempt. "In the past two years, she has caused scenes before. Every time, she came back. She cannot live without me." My nails dug deeply into my palm. He actually said that out loud. During these two years, I did argue with him before. The first time was when I saw Jack and Rory having lunch together at the school cafeteria. They looked far too intimate. I argued with him that night. He told me not to overthink. He said Rory was the purest girl he had ever met. She was poor and often bullied. He only wanted to help her a little. I believed him. But over the past year, Rory came to my hospital repeatedly for hymen reconstruction surgery. Out of goodwill, I warned him that the girl was not as innocent as she looked. Before I could finish, he cut me off. "Let the kid play around a little. Do not interfere. We just live our own lives," he said. Until one day, I found 365 photos on Jack's computer. One photo for every single day. Traveling together. Smiling together. Acting like a couple. The man who once swore he would never cheat. The man who even said he would die if he cheated. He turned his promise into a complete lie. Looking at their faces now, I felt even a second longer was dirtying my eyes. I turned around and left. I went straight to the luxury shopping street in the city center. I planned to buy a gift for my future husband. When I handed my card over, the cashier looked apologetic. "Sorry, Ms. Tanner. Your card has been frozen due to multiple failed PIN attempts." The PIN changed? But I had just seen a transaction notification earlier. Then my phone buzzed again. A social media notification. I opened it. Rory had just posted a new photo. A transfer receipt for a luxury apartment's down payment. The caption read: "To make it up to me, Professor Wayne paid for my apartment. I am sticking with you for life." I took a breath, then dialed 110. "Hello. I want to report a theft. Someone transferred money out of my bank account without my authorization."