I Slapped My Husband Then I Married His Boss

"Ah... Rico! Faster!"

Ivy froze.

The moment she stepped into the house, something had felt off. There was a pair of red heels by the door—heels that weren't hers. Sitting right next to her husband's polished dress shoes.

Had Rico brought a guest? On the night of their wedding anniversary? But where was this guest? The dining room was empty when she looked.

"Mmm... Baby! A little faster."

That voice again. Clear. Unmistakable.

"You wanted it faster, didn't you? Enjoy it, sweetheart."

Ivy's heart seemed to stop. That was Rico's voice. Her husband. But... why did it sound like they were...?

Without thinking, Ivy rushed toward the master bedroom. Her hands were trembling. Her chest tight with panic and disbelief. Who was that woman? What was she doing in their house? Did Rico... bring her here?

But why?

"Rico?" Ivy called out as she pushed open the bedroom door, which—of course—wasn't even locked.

And what she saw shattered her.

There he was. Rico. Naked. Twined around another woman's body in their bed.

"What are you doing?" she gasped.

Both of them turned at once—but neither made a move to pull away from each other.

"Oh, it's you. My useless wife," Rico sneered with a chuckle. "So you've seen us. Guess there's no point hiding it anymore."

Useless wife? What was he saying?

Ivy stood frozen, stunned, unable to process the betrayal unfolding in front of her. This was the man she had loved with all her heart. Her first love. Her husband. Her home. And now... this? This cruelty?

"What are you doing?" she asked again, her voice trembling with rage and heartbreak. Her stomach churned. Her chest felt like it might cave in.

"Do I need to explain it to you in detail?" Rico replied mockingly. He finally shifted away from the woman beneath him, pulling the covers over her with a sickening tenderness and planting a soft kiss on her forehead. "I'll talk to Ivy first. You should rest, sweetheart."

Then, just like that, Richardo Dallas—her husband—slipped into his pants and walked toward Ivy, completely unfazed. No guilt. No shame.

"What the hell do you thi—"

SMACK.

Ivy slapped him. Hard. Her eyes burned with fury, her entire body trembling with the force of betrayal.

"Tell me what the hell is going on!" she demanded.

Rico winced, rubbing the side of his face where her hand had landed. A faint sting crept across his lip. Damn it, he muttered under his breath.

"What do you want me to say? I'm cheating on you. I'm with someone else. You saw it yourself, didn't you?"

"But you're my husband, Rico! How could you do this?"

"You should've seen it coming," Rico said with a cold laugh. "Didn't you feel it? Our marriage stopped working a long time ago."

Ivy stared at him, stunned.

"You're useless as a wife, Ivy. You've never supported my career. You're always too busy with your pathetic little job. And after all this time—you're still not even pregnant."

Her breath caught.

"You... actually said that?" she whispered.

Rico shrugged like it was nothing. "It's the truth, isn't it?" He walked over to the nightstand and pulled out a document. "Here. Sign this."

Ivy looked down at the papers he handed her. "What is this?"

"Divorce papers. I was going to bring it up over dinner. But then you came home early. I assume you wanted to surprise me for our anniversary?" He snorted. "What a waste of effort, Ivy."

"Divorce?" she echoed, barely able to comprehend the word. Her thoughts still stuck on what she had just seen—her husband, naked in bed with another woman. And now... this?

Rico nodded without hesitation. "Oh—and by the way, meet my fiancée." He shifted slightly, revealing the woman still curled under the sheets.

"Sweetheart, care to introduce yourself?"

The woman flashed a wide, confident smile. Her face was calm, completely unbothered by the chaos unraveling around her. "Hi, I'm Clara. Rico's fiancée."

Ivy clenched the divorce papers in her hand so tightly they crinkled. "What the hell is this, Rico?!"

"Exactly what Clara just said. She's going to be my wife. I'm divorcing you, Ivy." Rico turned to face her, his expression cold and resolute. "Thanks to Clara, I've finally been able to get where I want in my career. And let's be honest, I can't be with someone like you forever—you never even finished college. You'd ruin my reputation, Ivy."

Ivy's head throbbed as his words hit her like a slap to the face. After everything she had done for him, this was what she got in return?

"Just sign the papers, pack your things, and get out. I don't want to drag this out any longer."

Rico gave her a tight-lipped smile. There was no guilt in his eyes, not even a flicker of remorse. As if talking about their divorce—and the betrayal she had just witnessed—was as casual as discussing the weather.

"You can't do this to me, Rico!" Ivy cried. Her mind couldn't keep up. Everything was spinning.

"You still want to stay here?" Rico asked mockingly, his tone laced with disdain. "What, you want to be the audience for what Clara and I are about to do next?"

Ivy's face hardened, her eyes burning with disbelief and fury.

"Leave," Rico ordered, giving her a slight shove toward the door. Then he shut it in her face.

And just like that, Ivy stood frozen in the hallway. Staring at the closed door. Heart pounding. Mind numb. Was this really happening?

This was supposed to be a special day. Their wedding anniversary. But instead, it had turned into a nightmare she couldn't wake up from.

"Unbelievable..." she muttered bitterly. "Did I seriously just get kicked out of my own house? My husband cheats on me, hands me divorce papers like it's nothing, and now he's asking me to leave?"

"What?! He divorced you after you caught him cheating? That bastard!"

Ivy pulled her phone slightly away from her ear—the voice on the other end was practically screaming. She sat in the backseat of a taxi, not even sure where she was headed. All she'd told the driver was to take her to the city center. Maybe it was the puffiness of her tear-streaked face that made him nod silently and start driving.

"Can you not yell? My ears are ringing," Ivy mumbled, wiping at the corners of her eyes.

Crying hadn't made the pain go away—it still sat heavy and raw in her chest.

"That man is out of his mind! Does he not remember how much you've sacrificed for him?"

Luna, Ivy's best friend, kept ranting non-stop. Ivy barely had the energy to respond. She hadn't even planned to call anyone, but the ache in her heart was too much to bear alone. Maybe talking to Luna would ease it a little—though she had forgotten just how loud her friend could be.

"Come to my place. You need to clear your head before you do anything drastic," Luna said firmly.

"You're right... I need to calm down first," Ivy murmured, leaning back in the seat and covering her face with the back of her hand.

"Give the driver my address, okay? I'll be waiting. We'll talk everything out once you're here. I'll make dinner—you probably haven't eaten, have you?"

A small smile tugged at Ivy's lips. Luna always knew what to say. "Thanks, Luna. You really are the best."

The call ended, but Ivy didn't give the driver Luna's address just yet. She let the taxi keep driving, passing the bright lights of the city's office buildings and shopping districts. She didn't want to go anywhere familiar. Not just yet.

Then, a bar caught her eye. Its glowing lights beamed out like a beacon—Pamalove Bar.

"Maybe a little vodka will help me calm down," she whispered.

And just like that, her night ended at the bar's entrance.

"I just hope this nightmare disappears by morning."