For His Mistress, My Husband Made Me Strip on Dark Web

The autumn rain fell in a steady, fine drizzle. Audrey Lane stood beneath a black umbrella outside a rundown apartment building in the old part of the city, her fingertips absently tracing the diamond ring on her ring finger. Her husband had designed it himself, polished it with his own hands, and the raw stone alone had cost a million. Everyone had praised how thoughtful he was toward her. And yet, he had cheated on her—for the second time. She had the photos from the private investigator on her phone: her husband, Marcus Prescott, pushing a wheelchair. The girl in it wore a white dress, her delicate profile so fragile it looked like she might break at the slightest touch. Her name was Megan Shaw. 20 years old. Disabled. She lived with her mother in this cheap, rundown apartment building. This was the fourth year of their remarriage. As the CEO of Prescott Group, Marcus had never been short of scandals. Audrey had mostly turned a blind eye. She had Noah, and she had this outwardly intact family to keep his life stable—that was enough. But this time was different. Her husband had flown overseas three times for this girl. He'd custom-ordered the best wheelchair in the world and posted a photo on social media with the caption: For my most important person. Noah was about to turn four, and Marcus often forgot his own son's birthday—yet he remembered every single detail about a stranger's disability. After learning all of this, Audrey's first thought wasn't jealousy. It was fear. So she decided to meet her husband's mistress. Audrey closed her umbrella and stepped up the stairs through the puddles. The wooden door was slightly ajar. A faint, intermittent cough came from inside. She knocked, and the coughing stopped at once. "Who is it?" The voice was soft, tinged with wariness. "I'm Audrey Lane—Marcus's wife." A few seconds of silence, then the sound of hurried, flustered movement from inside. When the door opened, Marcus's mistress, Megan Shaw, sat in her wheelchair, a faded cashmere scarf draped over her lap. Her face was pale, and her eyes reddened instantly. "Ms. Lane..." She bit her lip, gripping the armrests tightly. "I knew you'd come. Go ahead—yell at me. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have been the other woman..." She tried to push herself up from the wheelchair, but her legs gave way, and she swayed, nearly falling. Audrey reached out and steadied her. Her skin was cold to the touch. The girl's wrists were so thin the bones jutted out, and a faint scent of medicine clung to her. The tiny rental was cluttered—empty pill boxes and half-eaten instant noodles piled in the corner. On the table lay a yellowed medical record and a photo of a middle-aged woman who looked like her mother. Just as Audrey had discovered in her investigation: Megan was a pitiful case. Her father had been an alcoholic who abused her and her mother until he died of alcohol poisoning two years ago. Not long after, her mother had fallen seriously ill. Audrey's heart softened. She had seen too many women throw themselves at Marcus—their eyes full of calculation and ambition. But this girl's eyes held mostly fear, like a cornered animal. "Sit," Audrey said, her voice calm, without anger. "I'm not here to yell at you." Megan froze, then lowered her head as tears fell onto the back of her hand. "I know I shouldn't be with your husband..." Her voice trembled. "But my mother is sick, and she needs money for treatment. Marcus found me. He said if I stayed with him, he'd pay for her care. I had no choice. I wanted to leave, but he wouldn't let me—he said if I tried to run, he'd cut off my mother's treatment." She looked up with pleading eyes. "Ms. Lane, I never wanted to ruin your family. I just wanted to wait until my mother got a little better, and then I was going to slip away quietly... Please, help me." Audrey looked at her and confirmed what she had already suspected. Exactly as she'd thought. This girl was nothing but a tool for Marcus to satisfy his need for control. It reminded her of the early days with him—how he had been the same way, suffocatingly controlling, always saying, "I'm doing this for your own good", while keeping her on a short leash, demanding to know her whereabouts at all times. Back then, she had mistaken it for love—and she had embraced it willingly. Until his first affair. She had filed for divorce, but Marcus had knelt at her door and threatened to kill himself to force her to remarry him. She had still loved him. She couldn't bear to let him die. And so she had trapped herself in this marriage for four more years. The more she resisted his control, the more she refused to report her every move to him, the more distant they had grown. This girl in front of her—his mistress—was in some ways another prisoner of his grip. Audrey couldn't help but want to help her. It felt like freeing herself. So she pulled a check from her bag and placed it on the table. "Ten million." Megan's head shot up, stunned. "That's enough for your mother's treatment and for you to start over abroad." Audrey's voice was steady. "Leave tonight. I'll arrange someone to take you to the airport—you're going to Hesperia. The hospital and accommodation there will be arranged for you. Never come back to Bellmont, and never contact Marcus again." She paused, looking into the girl's stunned eyes, and added: "I'm not forcing you. I'm giving you a way out—and a way out for my family too." "R-really?" Megan's voice shook with disbelief. "You... you don't hate me?" Audrey's lips twitched—she didn't quite manage a smile. Hate her? She would be lying if she said she felt nothing. But more than hating a girl who was equally trapped, she wanted to protect her crumbling home. She wanted to protect Noah. And she hoped no one else would ever be hurt by Marcus again. That was her last, fragile hope. "Don't worry about whether I hate you," Audrey said, pushing the check closer to her. "Just remember: after today, you and Marcus are done. I won't tell anyone where you've gone—not even Marcus. Live your life. Don't come back." Megan stared at her, lips parting, and then she broke down, struggling to get out of her wheelchair to kneel. "Thank you... Ms. Lane... I'll never forget this. I swear." Audrey stepped back from her gratitude, picked up her umbrella, and stood. "Someone will pick you up at eight tonight. Pack your things. Don't forget anything." She said nothing more and walked out of the apartment. The rain was still falling, pattering softly against the umbrella. Audrey stood downstairs and looked up at the lit window. She let out a slow breath. She thought that was the end of it. 10 million to send away a girl who had no way out—to buy a few years of peace at home, to give Noah a complete childhood. She thought it was a fair trade. She was wrong. She had overestimated Marcus's conscience and underestimated his obsession. At ten that night, Audrey had just put Noah to sleep and was sitting by the bedroom window watching the rain when the door was shoved open. Marcus's bodyguard stood in the doorway, expressionless. "Madam, Mr. Prescott requests your presence in the living room." Her heart dropped. She stood and went downstairs. The living room chandelier blazed harshly. Four-year-old Noah was pinned to the sofa by two bodyguards, his small body curled up, his eyes red-rimmed, but he bit his lip hard and refused to cry out. Marcus stood beside the sofa, dressed in a suit, reeking of alcohol and coldness, a baseball bat in his hand. At his feet lay a brand-new silver-gray custom wheelchair. The same one she had seen in the photos. The one he had ordered for Megan. The sight made her blood run cold. The empty wheelchair sat in the middle of the living room like a silent mockery. "Mommy..." Noah's voice trembled when he saw her. Audrey's heart clenched instantly. "Marcus, let him go!" She rushed forward, but the bodyguard blocked her path. Marcus turned slowly to face her. He twirled the baseball bat in his hand, tapping it against the wheelchair armrest with a dull thump. Noah flinched violently. "Audrey," Marcus said, his voice low and simmering with barely contained fury, though a faint smile still curled at the corner of his mouth. "Where's Megan? Hand her over, and I'll pretend this never happened." Audrey clenched her fingers. She had promised Megan she wouldn't tell anyone where she was. And she knew—if she gave Megan up, with Marcus's nature, neither the girl nor her mother would survive it. She steadied herself and kept her voice as calm as she could. "I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't see her." "Don't know?" Marcus laughed, stepping closer, towering over her. "Who went to her apartment this afternoon? I'm giving you a chance, Audrey. Don't make me angry." The bodyguard helpfully displayed a photo—Megan kneeling before Audrey. A chill ran down Audrey's spine. She'd been followed again. When? "I sent her away," Audrey said, her voice shaking. "If you have a problem with it, come at me. Don't hurt Noah." Marcus smiled lightly. "I know how stubborn you are. Even if I hit you, you wouldn't talk. But I also know what you care about most—Noah. So he will bear the consequence of your mistake." Noah's small body trembled violently. Tears spilled from his eyes, but he still bit his lip, refusing to make a sound. "Daddy..." his voice quivered. "Please don't hit me... I'm scared..." Marcus crouched down, placing his large hand over his son's head. His gaze was almost gentle. "Noah," he said, low and calm. "Blame your mother. She's the one who's being cruel—jealous enough to refuse to save you. Daddy has no choice." He stood back up, turning to face Audrey again, speaking as if it were a trivial matter. "Audrey. Say no once, and Noah loses a leg." "You get two chances." Audrey stared at him, her entire body shaking. She couldn't believe it. This was the man she had loved for over a decade. The same man who had held newborn Noah in his arms with red-rimmed eyes and whispered, "I'll make sure he never has a worry in his life." Now he was using his own son's legs to force her to give up a girl she had promised to protect. "Marcus," her voice trembled, "he's your own son! Have you lost your mind?" "Didn't you say he and I were the people you loved most in this world?" "I'm not crazy," he said, his eyes dark as a frozen lake. "I love you both. But I worry about Megan. She's out there, all alone. Noah is my son—even if he loses his legs, I can take care of him for the rest of his life. But Megan can't survive without me." Absurd. Utterly absurd. Audrey felt her blood turn to ice. She had pitied that girl that afternoon. She had bent over backward for this family. She had believed he still had some shred of decency as a father. None of it was real. "I'll ask you one last time," Marcus's voice dropped. "Where is she?" Audrey bit her lip and turned her face away. She couldn't say. She had promised Megan. She wouldn't push another girl into this fire. Marcus looked at her stubborn profile and smiled. He raised his hand, gently covering Noah's eyes, then handed the bat to the bodyguard beside him. "Don't be scared, Noah," he said softly, as if soothing a child about to sleep. "It'll be over soon. Even if you're crippled, Daddy will take care of you forever." Then he looked at Audrey and started counting. "One." Noah's tears seeped through the gaps between his fingers. His small body trembled like a leaf in the wind. "Two." "Daddy..." Noah sobbed, "you're not really going to hit me, are you...?" Marcus didn't answer. "Three." "Four." The numbers fell one by one, like hammers against Audrey's heart. Her fragile hope shattered bit by bit. He was serious. He would really break his own son's legs for that woman. "Nine." Noah finally broke into sobs. "Daddy!" Marcus didn't stop. The bat was raised high, the chandelier light glinting coldly off its metal surface. "Ten—" "I'll tell you—!" Audrey lunged forward. She threw herself over her son, shielding him with her own back. Marcus's eyes widened—he opened his mouth to call out—but the bodyguard's swing had already come down. A dull, heavy c***k exploded beside her ear. Crack! Agony ripped through her spine and spread to every limb. She opened her mouth—and spat out a mouthful of blood. In that instant, she saw Marcus's expression. A flicker of panic crossed his face. He reached out instinctively, as if to catch her. But his hand stopped midair. Only half a step away from her—yet it felt like a world apart. Audrey looked at that suspended hand—and suddenly, she laughed. The pain in her back was nothing compared to the death of hope in her heart. She had given ground again and again—keeping promises, protecting others, preserving this family. And what did she get in return? A man who threatened his son's legs to break her. A man who hesitated to even reach out and catch her. "Megan..." Audrey gasped through the blood, each word rasping and ragged, "is at Hesperia Central Hospital." Marcus immediately pulled his hand back. He uncovered Noah's eyes, rose to his feet, and looked down at Audrey as she lay bleeding on the floor. "Take Mrs. Prescott to the hospital." Then he turned away, sounding as casual as though he were leaving for an ordinary day at work. "Audrey, I'll visit you after I bring Megan back." He strode toward the door without another glance. The helicopter's blades were already spinning on the rooftop helipad. Marcus climbed aboard and never looked back. Audrey lay facedown on the floor as blood soaked through the back of her clothes. Noah's heartbroken cries rang in her ears. "Mommy, you're bleeding! Mommy!" She wanted to lift her hand and touch his face, but her arm was too heavy to move. Memories began flashing through her mind. She remembered meeting Marcus when they were 16. In the pouring rain, he had stepped out of a luxury car to rescue a stray dog from the middle of the road. Back then, he had been bright-eyed, handsome, and kind. To Audrey, he had seemed almost angelic. She had fallen for him at first sight, chased after him, and eventually lost herself in their relationship. She had never wanted to get married, but Marcus had made her believe she had found a love worth changing her mind for. In return, he had cheated on her with one of her former schoolmates during the second year of their marriage. Now, he had ordered someone to beat her in front of their son. The Marcus she had loved no longer existed. Her memories blurred as her strength finally gave out, and darkness closed in around her. Her final thought was perfectly clear. 'I'll divorce him, then make him pay.'