Husbands sister 8

“Ashamed? I’m helping my husband take a concubine, it’s a joyous occasion!” 

The crowd instantly erupted, pointing and gossiping loudly enough to drown him out: 

“Pah! You’re naked and shameless, yet you have the nerve to talk about others!” 

“Talk about shameless to the extreme!” 

At this moment, Tiffany had hurriedly put on her clothes while hiding under the blanket. She kicked off the blanket and threw herself into Jack’s arms, crying. 

“What did I do wrong? Why are they treating me like this!” 

I burst out laughing. 

Since she had no shame, I’d grind her face into the dirt. 

I raised my phone and turned to the crowd. 

I showed everyone their chat records and the explicit videos from the cruise ship, giving a 360–degree view. 

“Everyone, judge for yourselves. She really didn’t do anything wrong. She just 

badmouthed me behind my back, coaxed my husband into buying her a cruise ship, and 

threw herself at him in a bikini.” 

“That’s nothing! Not worth mentioning!” 

I deliberately cupped my hand to my ear and leaned closer to her. 

“Come on! How did you confess to Jack earlier? Say it again, entertain everyone!” 

Tiffany’s face turned red, and she screamed as if she had nothing left to lose: 

06:36 Fri, 22 Aug 

“I said I love him, I do love him! What are you going to do about it?!” 

“Love?” I slapped her hard across the face: 

“If love means not confessing when you’re both single, but coming to entangle him after 

he’s married.” 

“Then your so–called love is nothing but dirty and cheap!” 

She thought taking advantage of the situation was her talent, but she was just trampling 

on someone else’s sincere feelings. 

To prop up her own pitiful sense of existence. 

Pitiful, pathetic. 

Laughable to the extreme. 

Tiffany fell to the ground in tears from my slap. She twisted her waist and cried in Jack’s arms, her voice sticky. 

“Jack, if loving you is wrong, I’d rather be wrong forever.” 

“But today, it’s either her or me!” 

To be honest, she was very good at acting coy. 

That pitiful little expression made even me feel sorry for her. 

So of course Jack naturally yelled at me: “Emma, haven’t you made enough of a scene?” 

The veins on his forehead were bulging. I knew that was a sign he was at his limit of 

patience. 

“Go home first, give me some time. I’ll give you an explanation.” 

See, his choice was always clear: her, not me. 

That familiar feeling of desolation welled up again, but I felt as if a huge boulder had 

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finally been lifted. 

Right, wasn’t it always like this? 

As long as Tiffany cried, he would bark at me like a rabid dog. 

“You’re completely unreasonable. My patience has limits!” 

“Likewise.” I looked him straight in the eye, my heart finally dead. 

I turned to look at Tiffany, who was secretly gloating, and applauded her. 

“Congratulations, the little mermaid has finally come ashore and can live happily ever after with her prince.” 

“But guess what the ending of this fairytale will be?” 

Once upon a time, wasn’t I also a little mermaid? 

For love, I cut off my own tail and walked into the grave called marriage. 

I traded my voice, losing the right to explain love. 

Every step felt like walking on knife edges, watching helplessly as the one I loved entangled with someone else. 

But I don’t want to anymore. I really don’t want to anymore. 

I took out the divorce papers I had prepared and threw them in Jack’s face. 

“Jack, let’s get divorced.”