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My Husband Chose His Young Mistress, So I Married a Younger Man
Novelix
new
Completed
Claire Bennett spent three years proving she loved billionaire Ethan Hale, not his money. Every time he froze her out, she returned his “emotional compensation” untouched—until he asked for a temporary divorce to comfort his pregnant mistress. This time, Claire took the money, signed the papers, and walked into the arms of Noah Carter, a younger man with secrets of his own. Ethan is certain she will come crawling back. But as scandals erupt, loyalties shatter, and Noah’s true identity is revealed, Claire discovers that leaving the wrong man may be the only way to find the right one.
Chapters (3)
第1章
Every time Ethan Hale gave me the silent treatment, he'd wire me what he called "emotional compensation."
"You need someone to coddle you," he said. "I need peace and quiet. Take the money. Go keep yourself a nice young boy toy if you want."
The last time, he wired me a very large sum.
"Claire, Ivy's depression is flaring up again. She says if she doesn't get a real commitment, some kind of security, she'll kill herself. We file for divorce first, and once she's stable, we remarry."
"In the meantime, spend whatever you want. I won't check the statements."
One of his friends laughed from across the room. "Ethan, Claire's the woman you gave up your family trust to marry. And you're just going to divorce her, just like that?"
"Seriously. Claire's way too proud for this. What if she actually takes your money and spends it on another man?"
Ethan didn't even look up from his financial reports.
"She won't."
"You all know she grew up on scholarships and charity. She hates owing anyone anything. She'd rather starve than touch a single cent of mine."
Someone let out a low whistle.
"Damn, Ethan. Cold-blooded. You send the money, she refuses to use it, and that's her pride talking — nothing on you."
Everyone assumed I'd do what I always did. Wire the money straight back.
But this time, I hit accept.
The living room went quiet for one full second.
Ethan turned his head toward me. That lazy half-smile on his lips froze in place.
"Claire!"
I didn't look back. I walked straight for the door.
His buddy stepped into my path, looking awkward. "Claire, you're joking, right?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
Ethan slowly sat up on the sofa and ground out his cigarette with the sole of his shoe. The whole room had gone silent. Eyes bounced between him and me like a tennis match.
He looked at me and smiled. A mocking, cutting smile.
"Seeing someone else?"
I glanced back at him.
"Why — curious?"
His gaze dropped to my bodycon dress and four-inch heels. His expression darkened by degrees.
Then he let out a sharp, derisive laugh and spoke into the phone on the table.
"Ivy, you called it. A bet's a bet."
Ivy's soft, honeyed voice floated through the speaker.
"Claire, I'm sorry."
"Ethan insisted on making this bet. He swore you'd never take the money. But I said — who turns down ten million?"
Ethan flicked a glance at me.
"I lost. What do you want?"
"I want you to come to me. Right now."
"On my way."
The call ended. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
I swallowed the pain and followed him out.
In the hallway, their stares clung to my skin like cobwebs I couldn't shake off.
"I give it three days before she's crying and wiring the money back. Like she could ever actually leave Ethan."
"Well, she clawed her way up from nothing. Stubbornness is in her blood. She'll never be like Ivy — Ivy actually knows how to take care of a man."
"You think Ethan might actually go through with the divorce?"
That last line pinned me where I stood.
A chill crawled up my spine.
Every time Ethan froze me out, every time he wired me money, I sent back every last cent.
I thought I was protecting my dignity.
I thought that one day he'd understand me. That he'd learn to cherish me.
But what was the reality?
Time after time I waited. Time after time I gave ground. And all I got in return was his back, getting smaller and smaller in the distance.
I didn't want to live like this anymore.
I'd barely taken a step when Ethan doubled back.
His fists were clenched, knuckles white. He let out a cold laugh.
"You want to pick a man? Let me help."
I pushed the ache in my chest down deep and forced a careless smile.
"Much appreciated."
The flat indifference in my voice hit the room like a bucket of ice water.
Dead silence.
He shoved me into the car. The back seat was wide enough to keep a no-man's-land of distance between us.
The AC was cranked all the way up.
Just like Ethan himself. Cold without a trace of warmth.
The black luxury car tore through the streets and finally pulled up outside a neon-drenched nightclub.
A line of young men filed out and stood in a row before me.
Ethan's mouth twisted into a sardonic smile.
"Have fun. Call for more if you need them."
Then he cut through the crowd and stopped at a booth in the back.
Ivy sat there, cheeks flushed, a half-empty glass of amber liquor in her hand.
Ethan crouched down and murmured to her.
"Why'd you drink so much?"
She tilted her face up to him, eyes glistening.
"Got bored waiting for you."
He brushed his thumb across the corner of her eye, then gripped the back of her neck and kissed her.
The catcalls around them surged louder and louder.
But Ethan's eyes stayed locked on me over her shoulder.
Like he was waiting for my reaction.
The bass pounded through my ribcage.
I lowered my head and took a sip of my drink. Ice-cold tears slid down my cheeks.
The tears I'd held back for so long finally broke through.
Ivy leaned in and whispered something in his ear.
Ethan froze for a heartbeat. Then something ignited in his eyes — pure, unrestrained joy.
He scooped Ivy up in his arms and spun her around in front of everyone.
"I'm going to be a father!"
第2章
My chest felt like it was caving in, like someone had a fist around my heart and was dragging it down.
I looked past all those eager, fawning faces. My gaze landed on a quiet young man sitting alone in the corner.
"I only want him."
He walked over. His young face still carried a trace of rawness, of inexperience.
"What's your name?" I asked. "Why are you here?"
"Noah Carter. Saving up for my sister's tuition."
"How old?"
"Twenty."
I drifted for a moment.
When I was twenty, I was a scholarship kid who counted every dollar at the cafeteria over a three-dollar plate of vegetables.
Until Ethan showed up and offered to sponsor my education.
Then he moved me into his house. Said it was closer, more convenient for tutoring.
Then, over time, we fell in love.
On our wedding day, I returned every cent he'd ever given me. Principal and interest. All of it.
I wanted him to know that I loved him — not his money.
And from that day forward, all of Harbor City knew.
Knew exactly how much Claire Bennett loved Ethan Hale.
A few drinks in, my throat was burning.
I pulled out my phone and wired Noah a hundred thousand.
"Don't come back here."
The words had barely left my mouth when several pairs of eyes cut my way.
"That kid actually looks a bit like Ethan did in college."
"You can tell — Claire's still hopelessly in love with Ethan."
Ethan tugged at the corner of his mouth with lazy indifference.
One of his friends sauntered over with a glass, waggling his eyebrows at me.
"Claire, Ethan already booked you a room. Penthouse suite. Amazing views."
He deliberately raised his voice, like he was afraid someone might miss it.
"I bet she won't go."
"She's not that kind of woman. It's all an act. Give it a minute — she'll wire the money back and come crying to Ethan for forgiveness."
After a few rounds of loud ribbing, every eye in the place was nailed to me.
Ethan tapped the keycard against the table, over and over, pinched between his fingers.
He looked up at me, mouth curved in an assured smile.
I walked over and plucked the card from between his fingers.
"Thanks."
The metal edge dragged across his fingertip. His smile stiffened for just a fraction of a second.
The VIP suite on the top floor. Dim lighting.
Ethan sat in the suite next door, shirt unbuttoned two buttons down, exposing the old scar beneath his collarbone.
Junior year. A lab instrument had malfunctioned. He'd thrown himself over me, taken the blast. Seven stitches.
I'd cried the entire night.
He'd laughed it off and told me it didn't hurt.
I looked up at the face that had once captivated me completely.
Tears welled in my eyes, but I clenched my jaw and refused to let them fall.
Ethan reached up instinctively, as if to wipe them away.
In that instant, something flickered in his eyes. It might have been guilt.
"Ivy's pregnant," he said. "I have to give her some kind of answer."
"Just be good about this. Once the baby's born, everything goes back to the way it was."
Everything goes back to the way it was. What an easy thing to say.
But I wasn't willing anymore.
I stepped back, out of his reach.
Ethan stared at me for two full seconds.
The next moment, the door slammed shut in front of me.
I closed my door too.
From next door came the faint sounds almost immediately — the muffled creak of bedsprings.
Ivy's breathy "that hurts" was ground down into half a trembling note.
Ethan's voice, threaded with heavy breathing.
"Relax."
One thrust. Then another.
Like it was deliberate. Like he wanted me to hear.
In the group chat, his friends were placing bets on how long I'd last.
"I bet Claire's staring at her phone crying right now. She'll storm out and make a scene any minute."
"She's way too jealous. Even if she's trying to save face, she won't last more than half an hour."
They weren't wrong that I used to make scenes.
The first time I found another woman's perfume on him, I burned his clothes.
He said it was accidental contact.
The second time, I had his car towed into a lake.
After that, he stopped explaining.
He started paying me off instead.
Ethan sent a voice message to the group.
"I bet she lasts the whole night. If I lose, the house is yours."
The chat exploded.
Everyone praised Ethan's generosity — an eight-figure property, offered up just like that.
I stared at the screen, my fingertips ice cold.
That house. I'd overseen every inch of the renovation myself.
From knocking down walls to painting them. From choosing tiles to picking light fixtures. I'd touched every plank of wood with my own hands.
And now he'd tossed it away like it was nothing.
As if our marriage — these past few years — weighed less than air.
I grabbed my coat and headed for the door.
Another message from Ethan popped up, his voice carrying the lazy satisfaction of a man who'd just finished.
"You don't want to hand the house over to strangers, do you?"
"Do this for me. Just get through tonight."
"After tonight, I'll transfer the deed to your name. Double the alimony."
Clean logic. Clear price tag.
He kept his dignity. I got the house.
Sounded like a win-win.
But the most pathetic part?
This was all we had left to talk about.
The bathroom door opened.
Noah stepped out, toweling his hair. Water droplets traced down his abs and disappeared beneath the edge of the towel.
第3章
The next morning, I opened the door to find a crowd gathered outside.
"Claire, I knew it — you still love Ethan the most. Couldn't give up that house, could you?"
"Told you. Tough on the outside, soft on the inside. We all saw right through her."
The door next to mine opened too.
Ethan walked out, straightening his tie.
"Keep it down. Ivy's still sleeping."
The laughter died instantly.
He pulled out a stack of cash and held it toward Noah.
Noah didn't take it.
"Ms. Bennett already paid."
Ethan's hand hung in the air.
The casual composure on his face shattered in an instant.
"Claire Bennett!"
My name came out bitten off, syllable by syllable.
"You didn't actually—"
He couldn't finish the sentence.
But his bloodshot eyes locked onto mine, searching for confirmation.
Ivy shuffled out, rubbing her eyes. The collar of her nightgown had slipped to one side, revealing a trail of red marks.
She spotted me and blinked, then curved her eyes into a smile.
"Oh, Claire, you're still here?"
"Ethan was so worried about me last night. I said I was thirsty, and he ran out to get me water — kept fussing until really late."
"I told him he didn't have to, but he insisted. You don't mind, do you?"
She leaned into Ethan as she spoke.
He wrapped an arm around her waist without thinking.
But his eyes were on my face.
He was waiting.
Waiting for me to lose it. Waiting for me to go hysterical over him.
But I didn't.
I just pulled the corner of my lips up slightly.
"Not at all. Carry on."
I slipped past the two of them, didn't look back, and said to Noah:
"Give them the bag."
Everyone looked confused, staring at the takeout bag in Noah's hand.
It was stuffed to the brim with condoms. Every brand imaginable.
The air froze for one perfect beat.
Ethan's frigid voice slammed into my back.
"Claire! Don't you dare walk away from me!"
I didn't turn around.
So that was how it worked. When it came to the silent treatment, even Ethan Hale could lose his cool.
Then what exactly had I been enduring for three years?
I pressed the elevator's down button.
For the first time in our marriage, Ethan chased after me.
"Claire, when did you get so bold? Tell me exactly what happened last night."
I looked up at him and smiled.
"What if I told you nothing happened? Would you believe me?"
The relief on Ethan's face was obvious.
"The divorce papers are ready to sign today. Everything I promised — you'll get all of it."
"What Ivy said just now — don't take it to heart. She's young. She speaks without thinking."
I nodded, took the divorce agreement from his hand, and signed my name.
Ethan watched how quickly I signed. Something complicated moved across his face.
"You don't have to take this so seriously, you know. The agreement is just for Ivy's sake. To put her mind at ease."
"In a year, we'll remarry anyway."
I smiled and said nothing.
I didn't tell him I had no intention of ever remarrying him.
Done was done.
We spoke almost at the same time.
"Thirty days. See you in court."