Husband Chose His Mistress Over Me—Then I Became Owner of Their Dream House скачать в хорошем качестве

Husband Chose His Mistress Over Me—Then I Became Owner of Their Dream House

My husband's mistress smirked as she told me they'd be moving into their dream house together. She didn't know that by sunrise, I'd already set the wheels in motion to become its rightful owner. The text message came at 2:47 AM, jolting me awake from an already restless sleep. The bright screen illuminated our bedroom—no, my bedroom now—as I read the words that would change everything: "Elizabeth, I hope you understand that Robert and I are meant to be together. We're closing on the Victorian mansion next week. The one you always dreamed about. He says you're too practical to appreciate its beauty anyway." My hands trembled as I stared at the message from Veronica, the woman who'd been my interior design client just six months ago. The woman who'd sat in my kitchen, drinking my coffee, admiring my taste, all while plotting to steal my husband of fifteen years. The Victorian mansion. Of course it had to be that house. The historic Marshall property on Maple Grove that Robert and I had dreamed of owning since we first married. We'd drive by it every Sunday, planning renovations, imagining our future children running through its sprawling gardens. "When we make it big," he'd always say, squeezing my hand. "This will be our forever home." I'd been the one who found the investment opportunities that had grown Robert's small inheritance into a real estate empire. I'd spent countless nights researching properties, analyzing market trends, and building relationships with the right people. All while he played the charismatic face of our success, charming clients and taking credit for my financial strategies. But that house—that magnificent Victorian with its intricate woodwork and secret passages—had always been our shared dream. Now he planned to live there with her.