The night I catch my husband cheating is the night I stop pretending.
I don’t cry. I don’t scream. I don’t get mad, I get even.
So I bring home another man. A stranger with wicked eyes and a smile sharp enough to carve me open. I let him have me in the house I share with a liar.
A moment of weakness? Maybe. A moment of revenge? Definitely.
But he saw me, the darkness, the hunger, the parts my husband hated—and he wanted more
Related Product
Contrary to popular belief, Lorem Ipsum is not simply random text.