Billionaire's Second Chance: Winning Her Back

"Ah, Christopher, take it easy."

In the video, a man and a woman are all over each other. The guy's back is to the camera, and he's frantically stripping off his suit and shirt, lifting the woman and pinning her against the wall. The woman, with long hair, shows half of her face, her eyes glazed and teary, her red nails trailing down the man's bare back.

I stare at the anonymous video, focusing on the suit jacket discarded by the male lead.

It was the same jacket I had helped Christopher Valence put on that morning, the tie I had knotted for him.

The news headline, "Christopher Spends a Fortune to Make His Wife Happy," tops the charts, with everyone praising Christopher for his devotion to his wife.

On our third anniversary, Christopher bought me a diamond necklace I'd been eyeing for ages and promised me a big surprise.

What gift would he bring home tonight?

I sat at the dining table all night, my legs going numb, feeling like a dead fish nailed to the chair. But Christopher never came home.

The next morning, a black Bugatti pulled into the driveway.

Donna Blake, our housekeeper, glanced out the window and said, "It's Mr. Valence's car."

I kept my face blank. "Serve breakfast."

But it wasn't Christopher who walked in. It was a woman I barely knew.

Evelyn Valence, Christopher's so-called sister and the woman from the video.

"Sorry, Hope. Christopher was with me last night. I told him to come home to you, but he insisted on staying with me."

Evelyn played with her hair, showing off the diamond necklace pinned to her chest, then looked at me with fake innocence. "Hope, you know how close we are. You don't mind, right?"

I felt sick to my stomach. She's sleeping with my husband, flaunting it, and has the nerve to ask if I mind?

"Of course not, you're his sister after all." I pulled out my phone and played the video. "Speaking of which, I watched a porn last night. The actress looked a lot like you!"

Evelyn's face darkened, and I couldn't help but laugh. "Evelyn, when did you start doing porn? You should've told us; I'd have spread the word for you."

"Shut up, Hope Royston!" Evelyn shrieked, her usually composed face twisted in anger.

"I know Christopher being with me bothers you, but all you can do is talk." She pulled out some papers from her new LV bag and shoved them in my face. "In love, the one not loved is the mistress. Christopher and I have known each other since we were kids. If you hadn't butted in, we'd have kids by now."

"Divorce him. I'll give you a million dollars." Evelyn handed me a card.

The divorce papers demanded I leave with nothing but the million dollars.

I toyed with Evelyn's card, then burst out laughing. "Mrs. Valence's title is worth just a million? Evelyn, are you broke and looking for a rich guy? And who are you to say this to me?"

Evelyn snorted. "Hope, Christopher's too kind to tell you himself. Don't be ungrateful. Sign the papers now, and you can leave with some dignity."

I stepped back, tore the divorce papers into pieces, and tossed them in the air like confetti, watching them fall on Evelyn's stunned face.

"Let Christopher tell me himself."

Christopher had always treated me well. We didn't marry for love, but until today, I never doubted his loyalty.

Everyone said Christopher loved me, so what was all this?

"I want him to say it to my face. The mistress's words don't count." I repeated firmly.

Evelyn finally snapped out of it, angrily stomping her high heels and raising her hand to slap me. I caught her arm and slapped her instead.

Evelyn screamed, "Hope! How dare you hit me!"

I rubbed my wrist, feeling satisfied. "Do I need an appointment to hit you?"

As Evelyn lunged at me again, trying to grab my hair, footsteps echoed from the doorway. A pair of long legs stood in the archway of the living room.

"What are you two doing?"