Running Away From My Treacherous WifeChapter 1
"Wade, look at the news!"
My mother-in-law's sharp voice startled me so much that my game controller slipped from my hands.
I quickly grabbed my phone and checked the trending headlines on Instagram.
[New York socialite Rianne Scott splurges on a luxury yacht for Finn Cooper, sparking rumors of a high-profile romance.]
Rianne was my wife, and I was her live-in husband.
When we got married, she had promised that even though I was moving into her family, she would stay loyal.
But after we tied the knot, scandal after scandal surfaced about her. Every time, she brushed them off as mere publicity stunts, scolding me for being overly sensitive.
I loved her—loved her enough to give up my career for her, and enough to sever ties with my own family.
But in the end, she still spent a fortune on some young actor.
I let out a bitter laugh, ready to close my phone—until another headline caught my eye.
"You should check the news too," I deadpanned as I turned to my mother-in-law, my expression was filled with sympathy.
Allison, my mother-in-law, who was three years younger than me, picked up her phone. Immediately, her expression darkened.
[New York business tycoon Lincoln Scott spotted watching the sunrise in the Maldives with his new lover.]
Lincoln was my father-in-law.
Allison and I exchanged glances.
We had both reached the same conclusion.
——
"I'm done being a second option!"
I gritted my teeth and shut off my phone.
Before, no matter how many rumors swirled around Rianne, they had always been fleeting. This time, however, she had actually gifted Finn a yacht.
It was obvious—this wasn’t just a game anymore.
And then, I saw Finn's latest Instagram post.
He had uploaded a photo.
Rianne was sitting on a plush bed. Even though it was only her back, I recognized her immediately. That alluring curve of her waist was unmistakable.
His caption? [No regrets in this lifetime.]
I was about to comment when Allison grabbed my hand.
"If you start a fight now, do you think Rianne will let you walk away unscathed?" She frowned, her delicate brows knitting together.
Allison was Rianne’s stepmother, the young trophy wife Lincoln had married four years ago.
Even though she was three years younger than me, she was far more cunning.
I looked at her blankly. "Mom, what are you suggesting?"
Addressing her as "Mom" always felt weird.